life’s lessons – Page 2 – Creative Meanderings

S.A.D.

Jan 262023

When I lived in Oregon as a young person I would often have a sense of melancholy during the winter or grey sky days. For a long time, I chalked it up to me just being a bit depressive by nature and a characteristic of my more introspective ways. Then, I heard about this thing called seasonal affective disorder (S.A.D.) or seasonal depression.

Although having a label is not necessarily my aim, it is often helpful to have terms to use in describing a certain way of thinking or behaving. With a label definition as a guideline, one can try to address it and create a new understanding of one’s identity either within the guidelines or push on beyond it. So, it was when I went to Japan and experienced colder, but sunnier winters that I realized I would not feel as “blue” as I normally would that time of year in the Pacific Northwest.

My nine years in the desert really highlighted just how much I love/need the sun and warmth as not once did I miss rain or cold weather. On the rare occasion when rain did fall or a sandstorm rose up, I accepted a temporary lapse in the ideal weather pattern, but if it lasted more than a day or two I was not pleased.

Now that we are in our second year in the Italian countryside, I am more settled and aware of myself outside of the external contributing factors that may cause stress or a lower mood level. Without those things to explain why suddenly I feel less chipper than I used to, I can now put my finger on the fact that where we live continues to be similar to where I grew up in another part of the world with weather conditions not much different. In fact, as my father often mentions, our temps and weather doesn’t differ much than at home.

So, I finally acknowledged this week that I think I might be a little depressed.

It’s not stress as we really have nothing to stress about. Although my husband can cause me external grief , it is not enough to definitively say that it is him as the source of my darker moods. The fact that it is cold, we have many days of grey, and the dark is where I spend a great portion of my day to avoid letting the heat out are undeniable causes of my gloom.

They say the first step is to be aware. Check . The next step is to accept. Check . Now, to do something about it!

We have discussed plans to go away in March, but the fact is that the weather here will be better by then. So, for this year, we are looking at traveling a bit more since seeing new places always lifts my mood. Then, for this time next year, we are going to plan in advance to be away in warmer climates to avoid a repeat of these darker days in the future.

In the meantime, I am focusing on the positives and layering up even more as I open my windows more often to let the sunlight in during the day.

Affirming My No Kids Decision

Going Mental 1 Response »

Jan 182023

When I was young I thought I wanted to have a huge family. Since I had moved around so much and never felt as if I “belonged” in the sense that people wouldn’t question my roots or right to claim a family as my own, I thought that if I had my own kids I would then obviously have established my place in the world. So, for many years, I imagined myself with at least four or six kids. I mean, why not?!

Then, I realized I was actually a little bit nuts thinking that way. Plus, I think I really had gone a bit nuts in my late 20s and early 30s. Everything I thought was the right path to take went into question when the man I had committed to turned out to be a liar of who he presented himself to be not only to me, but to the world. My faith in commitment over love was shattered. I thought that I was supposed to have chosen the practical and realistic path, not the one that was about soulmates and a love so deep that it hurt.

Feeling as if I had truly chosen a path that was just a dead end, I reconsidered the option of having children. Would a child save my marriage since my former mother-in-law was so persistent in asking us when we would give her a grandchild? Thankfully, it seemed that the Great Beings above were looking out for me and no kids were granted before I woke up to the fact that I could choose a path of life that did not follow the conventional.

Over the years in my mid to late 30s I would consider children again. Could I adopt? Should I marry someone who was really desperate to have his own kids? Wait, did I really even want them knowing what I knew then?

After a bit of soul searching, asking my parents, asking other people, I came to the conclusion that there was no satisfactory reason for me to have children. I didn’t have an aching desire for it. I didn’t care about having heirs or security that someone would take care of me in my senior years. I definitely didn’t need to feel as if an alien was growing inside of me, like invasion of the body snatchers that consume every natural function of my physical well-being. I didn’t want to embrace sleepless nights or feeling glued to a location for stability, schooling, so-called sanity. There was literally nothing that gave me a warm sensation about having kids. Not even my deep-rooted issue about not looking like anyone in family photos could persuade me that having dependent lifeforms carrying on my genes was a good idea.

So, I determined, no children – ever!

When M and I met, it was kismet because he had had his children and ensured that we could not have them together. This is a basic agreement any serious relationship should start with; otherwise, there is potential disappointment for one party or the other later. No children – ever – guaranteed.

“But, you like kids and they like you!” was always a response I would get when the topic of having offspring would arise. I do not disagree with this statement, still it does not change my mind.

This past week confirmed my stance.

Since we moved to France, we became wonderful friends with a family that has two young girls. They are now 11 and 13. We get along great as couples and with their girls. We somehow very early on agreed to kid-sit for first a night or two, then a week, then a couple of weeks, and now here and there. It’s always easy and never an issue. We have the lifestyle that makes it possible and neither of us begrudge the chance to help out our friends.

Most of the times we have watched the girls it has been during school holidays or for such a short time that regular school days were never really experienced. So, this past week was quite different for me. What is even more shocking – to me – is that it was only for two and a half days that the “school day” duties were in play; it felt like the entire week!

It was having four drives back and forth to do drop off and pick up since they have different timetables. Then, although I didn’t end up having to do any after school activity drives, there was scheduled activities in various locations where one did not have enough time to go home and settle or do much other than kill time somehow, somewhere. Again, the Great Beings above must have been looking out for me as I ended up not having to do any of the after-school chauffeuring. Still, I thought, HOW does anyone do this? Furthermore, how does anyone do this as a single parent?!

By the time, meals were considered – again not really that much of an issue for me as most was leftovers from a well-stocked fridge, or pizza, or the girls took care of themselves -, schedules sorted, homework done, chores completed, a bit of rest and then bedtime activities, I was exhausted. No wonder parents are often sleep-deprived or feel unfulfilled in their own selves! Kids require a lot of energy and time so that it is hard to carve out space for the self. I applaud all parents who survive the experience with well-behaved kids, and I sit in awe of those who manage to successfully get through more challenging children.

So, while it was worth it to see friends and spend some time with lovely tween/teens, I confirm I made the right choice in not having kids. It is not that I think I wouldn’t have enjoyed it. Nor, is it that I think I wouldn’t have been a great mother. I mean, I do love kids and they seem to think I’m alright for an adult. It’s that I am proud of the fact that I have traveled and been exposed to different cultures, people, environments. I love that I discovered who I am, who I want to be, and my own limits/boundaries early in life rather than having a midlife or identity crisis later. I am glad I can take the time to do the things I want to, to develop myself, to only have to share space and time with M rather than an ongoing draining of energy to try to dole out evenly to nurture healthy humans.

It is satisfying in a way to feel affirmed in my decision to take the path less traveled. These days, any “motherly” tendencies I might have get poured out to my little pups that I adore – probably way more than I would have my own children…. Ha!

What DO I do?

Going Mental No Responses »

Oct 182022

A common and fair question when we first meet people is to ask what one does – for work, for life, for whatever. For years, that was a safe and easy question to answer with no unintended nuances like ‘where are you from’ can hold. I knew how to answer it directly and, though, I rarely got more than an ‘I see’ when stating that I taught English as a second/foreign language, at least it was clear-cut and obvious.

These days, it is harder to give a plain response to this same question. Part of it is that we live in Italy on basically a retirement visa that means we cannot legally work nor earn income outside of a passive source like investments or pensions. Part of it is that I do a number of things.

Recently, I found myself saying first “Not much of anything”, but then upon a quick reflection I realized that was a lie. I actually do a lot of things. I just don’t know how to sum it up into an uncomplicated answer that most want to hear.

Up until recently, I was running an online platform – The Universal Asian -, which wasn’t breaking visa rules since it really made no income. It still wasn’t easy to explain what it was I did, but at least it had a tangible output that one could get their head around, i.e. I ran a website. I also do some paid freelance work that is perhaps technically breaking visa rules, but it cannot be directly tracked, so there’s that. However, what I mostly do is write.

So, I corrected my response to “I write.”

To that, I get a head nod; and then like when I used to claim teaching as my profession, the inquisitor moves on.

With others, when I have tested out such a response but with more detail like “I am writing a couple of books”, I get more interested expected return inquiries like “Oh, what are they about?”

Still, I suppose the real point is that I am not always certain as to what I DO.

It is a strange place in life these days as I feel far too young to be considered ‘retired’ and far too old to be in the peak of my profession – though I suppose I could have been had I stayed in education. Although many, including myself, would say it is not too late to reinvent oneself, I am still working on what that invention is meant to be.

I do appreciate that it is a kind of luxury to have such a challenge. However, I also acknowledge that it probably is not so uncommon for one, especially women, to ponder how to sum up what one does in life into a few comprehensible words.

It used to boggle my mind what a person does when they no longer commute to and from work, spend their days in the professional space, come home to family and dinner in the evenings, and spend weekends catching up on errands, house maintenance, and occasionally socializing with friends. I mean, that is what we consider a conventional, normal life, right? What else would we expect one to do, really?

Yet, I find that not only unsatisfactory, but also boring AF! I know – I apologize if that offends.

Now that my life is on more slow motion, I can reflect back. The truth is THAT was exactly the kind of life I did have – just in a different country. These days, my commute consists of bed to kitchen to desk via my slippered feet. My time spent in a ‘professional space’ is only determined by my mood, the length of my self-imposed todo list and motivation. My evenings are generally quiet with an early dinner usually made by my husband. Socializing, errands, and all the rest are done depending on my day, my mood, my motivation, and the like but never limited to weekends or holidays. In short, only a semi-tweaked version of the conventional and normal.

Yet, that little tweak makes me pause and question.

Perhaps, it is the off-handed statement directed at me by a certain someone – “I probably don’t respect or take seriously what you do.” Now, I know that sounds harsh. In his defense, he was somewhat joking and he wasn’t trying to be offensive towards me. It was just a thinking aloud comment that held truth. I personally was not upset by the words. Instead, I realized I probably felt the same.

As a holder of a master’s degree in teaching from a well-respected higher education institution, I felt purposeful in my explanation of how I pass my days. However, now as one who works on occasion, writes all the time but makes no income from it, I question my value. Society, and therefore most people, value our activities in life dependent upon the amount of money we make from time spent on something. Thus, there is less respect and seriousness surrounding the idea that one can spend time doing meaningful things that does not earn much income let alone no income at all.

Furthermore, it is not exactly as if we have no money woes (as you will know if you’ve been reading here for a while) nor that we have suddenly become filthy rich and thus the idea of making money is moot. However, it is exactly that we really don’t have much money woes and once our house is paid off, or at least a solution for paying it is sorted (nearly there), “we” make enough money to enjoy life fully. Therefore, my own income stream is for me alone.

So, if I choose to do those things that do not generate monetary value, does it mean that I actually do nothing?

Obviously, we want to say, “Of course not!” Angel voices might even raise fists of support to happily encourage a beating of the system shouting, “You go girl! Live your best life. Do what you’re passionate about.” Meanwhile devil voices might whisper the words of Emile Calvet, Megan Draper’s father in Mad Men, “…I see you skipped the struggle and went right to the end…it is not because someone else deserves it, but because it is bad for your soul…I hate that you gave up….”

So, I wonder, did I give up? Did I skip the struggle?

Or, was it that the struggle and process was just slightly tweaked from the conventional and normal?

Maybe, what I DO now is what I have always wanted to be doing and I’m just struggling to accept it as my new reality…?

Compromises

Going Mental 1 Response »

Oct 062022

Life is a constant up and down like a seesaw.

When I first saw the Korean version of this weird balancing device, I was confused as to why they would consider it play to ask kids/players to stand on the balancing board rather than sit as is the US way of play. I mean, talk about accidents waiting to happen! Over time, I came to appreciate the fact that play is really the teaching of real-life in a more protected, light-hearted, and experiential way. How much more directly can you find a way to learn that you need to find balance to stay up and you have to trust your partner not to knock you off the small little board. If either of you wavers, both are prone to a potential accident.

Also, I found that once one learned the art of the balance between two players, there was a lot more freedom in how one “flies” when the skill is mastered – just do a Google search for images and videos of how these players fly, somersault, and jump in the air.

Unfortunately, I never was brave enough to let anyone jump so much on the board that my feet left it, and am a little sad to admit that I really don’t like the idea of free-flying through the air without all kinds of safety equipment attached to me and below me. My risk-taking approval has a lot of qualifying requirements.

Still, the art of balance is often found in the ability to compromise. This compromise often requires a step forward and out rather than digging heels in with stubborn selfishness.

This week I was meant to go to Florence for another Writing Mini-Retreat on my own. I had booked everything, researched where to go, and was preparing myself mentally when I noticed M had a greyness floating over him for a couple of days. He has a constant state of stress around him anyway related to house financing, so I initially attributed his aura to that. However, when nothing was lifting it I asked directly to which he poured out his frustration on spending money always going out.

A regular point of contention between us is that life requires this outflow of funds. We cannot leave the house without spending money as that is the nature of experiencing life – no matter where we go or what we do. Things cost money. We cannot stay isolated in our home any more than we already do and my own ability to make an income is limited. Since this is the reality, I do not want to feel as if I am a captive in the house or a kept woman when it comes to living life – even if it is somewhat true.

So, when he openly confessed that he felt frustrated that it was going to cost money for me to go to Florence or for him to travel or for us to buy things that we need aside from food, I initially felt irritated. However, with some time and space, I admitted to myself that I didn’t necessarily need to go to Florence as I could try to do my writing locally to save our funds so that he could use the money to take his own break. Since I knew that asking him if he preferred me to do this would result in circular conversation, I made an executive decision to cancel everything for the trip. Luckily, I have long-learned that everything I book should have easy cancellation even if it costs a bit more.

In doing so, M initially tried to deflect and push back his sense of guilt for my action. However, I simply told him to just accept it, but not rub my face in it. I made the decision. I was OK with that decision. I also did not want to be reminded that I could have made a different one.

Through this decision, something magical happened. He reflected. Although he may not say so or realize it consciously, I know that me “sacrificing” the trip caused him to re-evaluate his view on our spending money. Taking our house payment issues out of the equation, we have more than enough money to save and spend reasonably. There is no need for us to feel like captives in our own (almost) house. There is no need for us to begrudge each other the desire to spend or go away for a few days to do the things that we want to do. We can afford it and we need – to some degree – to do it for both of our sanities.

So, like with a seesaw, we have to learn to trust each other and take turns as we allow the other to fly, jump, somersault, and soar in the air with the belief that the board will always be strong below to let us land safely.

Existential Contemplations

Going Mental No Responses »

Oct 042022

Of late, I have been questioning my purpose in this life. When I was heavily into the world of Christian teachings , I was convinced my place in the “body of Christ” was the butt or bottoms of the feet ; wherever it was that people squashed and used taking the place for granted in its purpose. They are still very important parts of the body, but greatly unappreciated. So, for the most part I have found contentment as that being my general role in the whole of society.

When I read about Buddhism, I accepted the belief that suffering is just a part of life. Through meditation and yoga, I found that I could cope with the varying degrees of “suffering” that ebb and flow.

However, I am still human and imperfect. My ego wants there to be more than suffering or being the brunt-end of the greater whole. It is in this desire that I struggle.

For the most part, I do not put much stock into human beings. Everyone is fallible – myself included. Everyone will disappoint – myself included. Everyone will be a weakness at some point or another – myself included.

In partnering with another human, we have a tendency to let ourselves believe that person is infallible, will never let us down, and will always be our strength. Basically, we put all our eggs in their basket and expect them to cherish, protect, and keep them from breaking at all costs as we would if we had kept them in our own basket. Some couples just get a bigger basket and put all their eggs together, but if anything happens to either one’s eggs they blame the other for not caring sufficiently to keep them safe. Modern day couplings seem to prefer that each one keep their own basket and avoid the sharing of responsibility for the other’s. What all of these scenarios presume is that the baskets are already full.

Imagine if, instead, we acknowledge we only have a few eggs in our own baskets and together we add to the filling of each other’s with more eggs while still keeping responsibility and control over our own baskets. Wouldn’t that be more satisfying and less controlled by another, or at least, avoid a sense of co/dependency?

I know – it’s an ideal more than a reality.

Also, I digress. I mean, how does holding on to our own baskets and helping each other fill them up have anything to do with our purpose of existence?

Well, I recently did a search on how to avoid depression or what to do when one has suicidal thoughts and is looking for purpose. It was more for research on my novel, but also somewhat related to my own thought patterns of late – not to worry, though I’m OK, I promise.

Still, I found the online advice to be rather useless. Advice like: find something to be grateful for and focus on that; do something good for others rather than focusing on yourself; reach out to others; etc. are good points, but honestly I call BS on their efficacy.

For one thing, someone who is on an emotional and mental decline will struggle with the first two suggestions as it takes quite a bit of motivation to take action on something. The latter is probably ideal, but to be honest, I can count on two fingers , or maybe even just one , the number of people whom I could reach out to and trust that they would actually listen to me: without judgment, offer of advice, or compare my woes with their own, as feedback to me. Although I never participate in FB posts that say something like “I’d like to see if at least five people will respond to this post as a reaction to suicide awareness or acknowledgment of depression…“, I do not disagree with the sentiment behind them – I just don’t like FB posting that much.

The fact is that people have their own lives, are figuring out how to survive their own woes, and also mistakenly think they are the only ones experiencing their thoughts and challenges in a world that celebrates the image of “having it all together” or living the perfect life. Therefore, we have somewhat lost the art of getting together for a cup of tea/coffee and sharing with each other the frustrations, challenges, and angst that is called life.

Although I do think I am the most important person in my world, I also know that I am NOT the most important person in others’ worlds. As much as I think that is strange, I respect it. So, I am trying to revert my mind back to a sense of calm and acceptance as to the importance of being the backside or bottom part – I mean you try imagining sitting down without a soft cushy bum or walk without the bottoms of your feet. I am also reaching out to my one (maybe two) trusted peoples who will let me rant and vent with open-ended ears and love. [Thank you – you know who you are!]

Through all of this, I accept “suffering” is a part of life. We are all in it together and together we shall survive if we just give each other a chance to discover our roles/purpose in this life, and give love through compassion where and whenever needed.

At What Point?

Going Mental 2 Responses »

Jun 302022

A result of having so many visitors is having a lot of varied conversations observing not only styles of communication, but also hearing and seeing responses that reflect one’s personality and view on life.

One of my recent ponderings, that is somewhat related to conversations I’ve witnessed, is the question – At what point does an individual feel that something is enough to change their habits for the purpose of having a better life?

When I asked a recent guest this, his response was that it is when one is faced with a sense of mortality. Basically, a near-death or exposed to death kind of situation.

I feel that this is still an inadequate answer because I have not had this kind of experience, yet I have a strong desire to reflect upon myself to adjust my habits so that I am not prohibiting myself from living the best that I can whether it be with my health, my safety/livelihood, or my relationships. While I have long accepted that I do not think like the majority of people, I also have never accepted that I am alone in how I think nor that I might be wrong….

Obviously, people who do not want to die before they are ready – if they are ever so – will make adjustments to their way of life, if faced with their mortality, until they begin to take life for granted again and return to their “normal” way of life.

As an example, I think back to my grandpa H, who had a heart attack due to a lifetime of unhealthy living. When he came out of the hospital, he temporarily vowed to change his habits. In the end, it was too late as he was taken from us by an aneurysm after being lazy again with his walking and eating. While, on the one hand, we could say that he enjoyed his life and that it doesn’t really matter when one goes; on the other hand, we could argue that he could have continued to enjoy life for many more years than he did. Who is correct? Does it matter?

Personally, I am OK with death. It is a part of the life cycle and when one’s time comes, it is what it is. For me, I am ready anytime as I am very content with the life I have led and the one that I lead. Still, I do not live recklessly nor do I want to have a suffering kind of death – like with cancer. So, I take care of myself and I generally ensure that I do not cause others to worry about my behaviors leading to untimely death (for the living). To be honest, I don’t really know the reason why I think this way, which is why I am curious about those who don’t.

Still, if it is true that most people are not ready to die right now, then why do people continue to smoke when they obviously have bad health; text while driving; drive too fast at the risk of hurting not only themselves but others; drink to excess regularly; etc.?

Now, I’m not questioning one’s desire to have a good time, drown out sorrows, avoid facing personal or external issues, and various other reasons that one might choose to do any or more of the above. I am questioning at what point would it take for someone to want to change their life or to see that such behaviors might not contribute to a longer-lasting and fulfilling way of life? Or, maybe the question back to me is what is a fulfilling way of life and why can’t it be doing the above?

Anyway, I am honestly not judging nor condemning. Mostly, I’m curious and pondering. These are the kinds of conversations I like to have….

Permalink Going Mental No Responses »

Jun 212022

It seems that my period of angst and frustrations is not yet over. Although I had made an attempt to adjust my brain so that I was not thinking like a spoilt child, it only took a few rude words to send me back into the pit of despair.

Basically, I feel untethered. Not lost. Not confused. Not distracted. But, without purpose, meaning, and perhaps even mis- and displaced.

For the second time since being married to M, I find myself in a position of complete dependence with no actionable solution. Although there are projects I can do around the house – there are plenty -, or words to be written, or various other tasks that could be created, none of them make me feel “useful”. So, when I asked the man to take the garbage up to the top of the drive and he retorted with ‘you know, you’re capable of taking out the garbage and you can’t complain about not having purpose if you want to play the gender card…’ (I paraphrase a bit), I silently stewed in molten lava with my frustration at his utter lack of comprehension as to what I thought I had made clear to him the night before. Obviously, I had not either from my own lack of explanation or his lack of desire to understand – I choose to think it is the latter reason.

Even my dad, in his wont as a man to try to “fix” the situation, gave me advice to go outside and find projects that will make me feel good with physical exertion or, at least satisfaction that I have something to show for my efforts if there is nothing else I can do.

While neither men were incorrect in their statements and suggestions, both men are missing the point. I am a highly educated, intelligent woman who does not find satisfaction or meaning in doing things around the house or outside. Aside from the fact that I am basically allergic to the outdoors between the bugs, plants, and practically the air, it is my brain and mind that needs to feel valued and worked. Like our Beagle puppies, I need to be challenged and intellectually stimulated with a reward at the end – like money, or treats in the case of the pups.

My anger arises from being told that I can make myself useful by cleaning up after him, doing his/our laundry, taking out the trash, or doing whatever other chores around the house that he doesn’t want to do because he has purpose as the one making an income and controlling every other aspect of my life. I am not allowed to complain or ask him to do things because I have expressed a dissatisfaction with my current situation.

Admittedly, I realize I may not be helping myself either as I say it is a lack of money, but that I don’t want to work full-time (plus I actually cannot due to our visa) or that I don’t have a sense of purpose each day – which does not equate to doing tasks around the house. Still, I rebuke the idea that I should shut up and take care of things myself no matter if it is domestic or otherwise just because the “man” can’t appreciate the fact that I’m discontent at a lack of control over my own decisions that involve having to spend money, which is basically everything.

So, I am trapped and stuck.

I know it is not easy for him either and realize that my discontent is probably not helping him…. He tried to say that I should see that my purpose for the moment is to support him since he is the only one who can get us through this period of challenges. He’s probably right, but it doesn’t mean that I like it. It also doesn’t change how I feel – for now.

My current solution is to control myself and what I can within my means. I’ve returned to making a daily hourly schedule for myself along with my todo lists. This gives me direction each day at least. I’ve temporarily accepted that my almost 46-year-old self has to ask for permission and funds to spend money on little luxuries like getting my nails or hair done or going out to a cafe to work/write. Plus, I am doing freelance work to try to earn some spending money when I can since my visa is less threatened by that. And so, that is the current reality.

While it keeps me in a bit of a funk, it also is manageable for the moment. Maybe now I can focus on writing and doing other productive things that I do enjoy as a distraction until this phase ends – and, it will eventually.

Doing and Being – Me

Going Mental No Responses »

May 102022

Last week’s poem was a few days/weeks in the making.

I have been feeling a desire to return to writing poetry as sometimes prose is too wordy and lacks an elegance that poetry has in expressing thoughts or emotions. It has been a while since I have used it as a way of expressing myself, but it finally turned into something. This poem came out of recent conversations and ponderings.

My father has always had a zest for life. My husband carries that same attitude toward it. Pea (our female Beagle puppy) seems to have it, while Monty (her brother) is less cheerful – albeit still very cheerful. I do not have it. I never have. In fact, I barely even understand the concept of it.

Still, aside from one or two moments in my life, I have not considered escaping it by my own means. It is not the case that I even hate it. My life is good. The Universe and God have given me more than others might even imagine possible. Yet, I do not love the act of living.

For as long as I can remember, I have said and felt that if I were to die tomorrow, it would be with relief and satisfaction that at last my time in this world is ended. This is not to say that I actively put my life in danger nor that I have a completely blasé attitude about how I go about living. It is to say that I do not hold on to any particular passion or mission that I feel I must fulfill in order to live fully. In fact, passion and mission are not something I think I have ever had nor desired.

Some people are driven by a passion for a craft, a political stance, a fight, an activity, a sense of changing the world. Some people think it is their mission to achieve some goal of success whether it is money, life changes, global improvements, human advancements and the like. I am not. I do not.

So, why do I get up every morning? Why don’t I just kill myself as my husband once asked me in a frustrated conversation about my laissez-faire attitude toward life?

The truth is that I don’t have an answer. I no longer actively consider what gets me out of bed. I no longer actively desire to know my purpose. When I was younger, I spent a lot of brain power on these questions and contemplated, read, discussed how I should live a purpose-filled life. What I found was that, it doesn’t matter.

All our aims at finding happiness, wanting what others have, trying to change the world, being concerned about the state of society, etc. contribute to a continued cycle of discontent and frustration. I have learned that by finding contentment in myself, my life, my ways – all the areas of my control – I do not need nor desire to be involved in the other thoughts. Call me selfish, if you like, but honestly I don’t care.

I have always felt that we, humans, are too controlled and dependent on others. My belief in the power of humanity is based on the power of individuals realizing their strengths and then working with others respecting each other as individuals to create something better. Unfortunately, this rarely ever happens – but it does, and when it does – WOW. Perhaps, it is those moments that I live for….

In any case, I do not feel that life is meant to be about being happy or having zest for the living. While I hope that I have and give value to others, I am also content to just do and be – me.

A poem: Life Just Is

Writing 1 Response »

May 052022

Life just is – a wandering of this world
trying to discover what will unfurl.

Life just is – a string of experiences
some good, some bad, some open doors, others fences.

Life just is – a chance to learn
about ourselves, about others, about on what we should concern.

Life just is – but a brief moment
and of what is beyond us, we only have a hint.

Life just is – the here, the now
and each day, I simply try to survive it somehow.

Looking for the Silence in the Noise

Going Mental No Responses »

Aug 182021

Well, we are in Italy again. I am not yet ready to update on the settling process; it will be coming soon as there has been some progress, but the art of learning to be patient continues to be the school of life. Either way, I will soon be graduating or dropping out . So, stay tuned for that.

Recently, I have been waking up to the sound of videos and going to bed to the sound of videos . Even as I tried to write early, I was forced to listen to the sound of a video only occasionally interrupted by a one-sided phone conversation.

My other half likes noise. A common phrase expressed by me throughout moments of the day is, “It’s a bit loud…”.

Last night, we had a disagreement that miraculously was not an argument despite the nature of the topic and our state of minds. The heat wave , lack of A/C , lack of consistent wifi , and ongoing unsettled way of life are contributing factors to my less than cheery temperament since we arrived again in the land of pizza and pasta .

Rest assured that M and I are indeed on the same page overall. I have enough awareness that while we go about life differently, we are still partner’s enjoying an adventure together. We love each other without a doubt. We have managed to grow closer even through these past couple of crazy years so far; and so, in that area, there is nothing to worry about nor to complain about (generally).

This does not deny the fact that he frustrates me to no end and vice versa – though obviously me less so to him…!

There is a darkness that fills the space we live in here – not just literally from limited windows and stone walls, but also figuratively in its energy. There is a darkness that surrounds the people we are heavily relying on for our peace of mind, stability, and future. There is a darkness that does not belong in an otherwise beautiful and bright place/expereince.

It’s no secret that Italy was never our first choice of destinations. Once we arrived, though, we both agreed to follow the path that we are on. While I have had hesitations from the start, I have continued on whilst keeping the prize in full view. However, it has not been the smooth and straight path that I was led to believe it would be when I jumped on board.

Like the windy roads that we drive on everyday, it is unknown what is around the bend. When a car drives slowly in front of us, it is not clear if it is better to follow it slowly, or speed on by.

Similarly, I feel that we sometimes speed up only to slow right down, and then not know if we should pass or just enjoy the slower scenery passing by.

While M enjoys the speed and blurring sights, it seems to have become white noise to him along with the sounds of the mindless videos he watches as a distraction from our current reality. For me, I just want to stop , breathe , and enjoy a bit of quiet/calm. Unfortunately, this tends to come out in expressions of impatience and annoyance at all that is not these things (totally my bad!). Unfortunately, the craving to walk in the light gets overshadowed by the darkness that swirls around this Italian path. Unfortunately, my determination to keep following this path is quickly waning with each dismissive comment, eye roll , and command to trust a gut that I know from experience and anecdotes cannot always be trusted….

At what point does it become my gut that gets trusted? At what point does my vote get taken as importantly as his? At what point do we agree to call it a day with this path we are on?

He says that we will know.

How? When?

We don’t know.

So, my curious logical brain understands the desire to see where the road ends – whether positively or negatively. If we change course now, we will never know if it was worth it or not.

The good thing is that either way, we will be okay. We will just choose another path if it doesn’t end up as we hoped. Or, we will reflect back looking at the hill we climbed and feel satisfaction that we stayed the course despite the winding road.

In the meantime, I just want a bit of silence. So, I write in the late hours when the house is dark, the man slumbers, and it’s just me with the fans as white noise over the pounding of the keys as my fingers try to keep up with my thoughts to find the silence within the noise.

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