"Anyone remotely interesting is mad in some way or another" - Doctor Who
Found this on a blog that I probably wouldn't follow. But it seemed to make sense to me. So here is something for everyone to think about.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Flashbacks
I haven't seen my friend Sheri since 11th grade. And when I saw her I was too wrapped up in the year's projects, German II and after school work to do more than make a mental note to get back with her the minute I had free time. She's been out of State for 6 years and things just kept truckin' along so we lost touch. When I did have time to seek her she had moved again. Until Facebook I hadn't heard from her in nearly 2 years. So we got together for coffee.
Coffee has to be the cheapest date in this town. for a meager 4.00 you can sit with a friend for 2,4,6 even up to 10 hours and gab about nothing and everything. It was a good visit. Not only did we get to hit the highlights about life, love and living situations we were able to touch off old memories and get some explanation for things that we remembered. And we got confirmation that we were not crazy. That we did really remember some very bizarre things about school in Traverse City. One thing in particular struck me with such a force that it has taken me a couple of days to let it sink in.
"I remember the day you told me you were psychic."
We were talking about elementary school, first kisses, the boys with the cool toys and art supplies and the teachers that scared the confessions right out of us. Sheri stunned me. How in the world would I have known when I was 10 that I was psychic and why would I know? Clearly befuddled she offered this story.
After talking to Sheri, I remember that day and Gramma's words so much more clearly. But I can not for the life of me figure out why I would have told her that. The only explanation I have is that I was bursting to tell someone and she felt like a safe place to divest myself of such a burdensome secret.
Coffee has to be the cheapest date in this town. for a meager 4.00 you can sit with a friend for 2,4,6 even up to 10 hours and gab about nothing and everything. It was a good visit. Not only did we get to hit the highlights about life, love and living situations we were able to touch off old memories and get some explanation for things that we remembered. And we got confirmation that we were not crazy. That we did really remember some very bizarre things about school in Traverse City. One thing in particular struck me with such a force that it has taken me a couple of days to let it sink in.
"I remember the day you told me you were psychic."
We were talking about elementary school, first kisses, the boys with the cool toys and art supplies and the teachers that scared the confessions right out of us. Sheri stunned me. How in the world would I have known when I was 10 that I was psychic and why would I know? Clearly befuddled she offered this story.
It was the day that girl got hit by a car on the corner where you used to live. I don't remember her name. She was a red-headed twin. We were standing by the gym, looking at the accident; for some reason you just said "I'm psychic." Whenever I think back on those days and remember you that is what I remember first. Most. I don't know why.I don't know why I would have said that to her. I'm sure that my Irish Gramma had a lot to do with it though. She used to say that I was an old soul. And that mom was kinda afraid of me because she couldn't fool me like she could fool everyone else. Oh sure, I fell for every practical joke out there. But when it came to teaching me about the world and how to treat people I was able to call her out on the carpet. Unfortunately I couldn't always tell what was going on when she was trying to teach me who I was. Gramma said that psychic connection is why I liked people so much for, as mom would say "So little reason." And why it hurt so much when they left. But also why animals liked me so much and I them. Gramma also said that it would be a difficult gift because I would not need constant letters and phone calls to keep me connected to people I love but they would need those things from me... sometimes in abundance.
After talking to Sheri, I remember that day and Gramma's words so much more clearly. But I can not for the life of me figure out why I would have told her that. The only explanation I have is that I was bursting to tell someone and she felt like a safe place to divest myself of such a burdensome secret.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
but its worth it
I know the posts are getting long winded again. But I promise that they are worth it.
Scwach und Stark
But first a disclaimer:
It seems that while I am focusing on getting my financial house (11th for those of you keeping score on an astrology chart) in order, there are some personal issues that need to be addressed. And as everything is interrelated, the fun stuff is going to be sparse for a while. i have not lost any of my interest in geeky things. But do want to make sure that we, geeks of all stripes, have as many tools to help us negotiate in the world. So as I learn I pass it on to you.... the prime directive of geekdom.
Schwach und Stark. In German the words weak and strong. Weakness and strength seem to me to be present in each of us in varying measures. Weakness in anything, but especially in a person seems to be the most aggregious of sins in the American mindset. And good luck knowing what another will consider weak. In the American West, for instance, Sun Tzu would have been considered a pansy. Mistakenly so. But it often takes a grand, life ending/altering mistake to realize you have under estimated someone. But that is another story. Passivism seems like weakness to others. We seem to value those who can foist their opinions and wills on another for position, gain and influence above those who can work within the social order and bring others along with them. I will say that, in my opinion, the greatest thing tht Oprah has done was show that others can grow with you as your rise in influence and earnings rather than languish beneath you. She has not suffered at all in bringing others to some measure of success simply by being a cheerleader. If you look at how America was built and who its most powerful were in the industrial age you see the trend to which I refer.
The American industrialist was little better than the train robbers who plagued the American Western frontier. Lumber barons, steel barons, Rag kings, plantaitioners, bankers, brokers and lawyers, all men of strong will were also men who believed that any means to the end required to achieve their goals must be used. Slave labor, forced labor, indentured servitude and forced relocation to serve the industry and the grand magnates of those industries are what built America. Most of the names we associate with philanthropy today were names of avarice and oppression then. Forgive me for not remembering where I read this, but it would seem that those philanthropic gifts are the direct result of a need to protect wealth and not an obligation to fellow man. The names we do not currently know, the architects who tried to impart a sense of social justice to urban communities cramming 15 men to a room for .5 a night, the authors who exposed injustice in papers, pamphlets and magazines were motivated by genuine humanity to do something about the great oppressors.
Every so often we wake up to the oppression we experience. In American there is nothing so pressing as to generate a Tienamin, Chechnyn or any number of recent coupes. But the personal revolutions are happening more often. We are starting to see that those we have always though of as strong really are not. The fist first approach is characteristic of the weak minded. The false friend approach to dealing with peers is also weak minded but far more predatory in nature than straight forward violence. Wheeling and dealing someone into a submissive or subserviant position is a characteristic of greed. But it also demonstrates a degree of control that is born of the dealer's need to mask his or her own weakness.
In all of this, what escapes me is the answer to this question? Why is the fear of being or showing weakness so powerful a drive as to cause one human being to undermine or destroy another? It is often said that adversity breeds character because we meet a struggle and develop the necessary skills to get over, around or under the hurdle. What is said of weakness? What should be said of weakness?
Only this: weakness is an opportunity for growth. I know, I hate hearing that too. But it is true. Physical weaknesses tell us where we need to focus our energy and activities to gain physical strength. Where we are intellectually weak that is where we must find a tutor. Where we are spiritually weak we must focus our intentions on that that makes us stronger... not weaker. Weakness is not permanent. And that is where I think we falter. Somewhere in our synapses we have gotten the idea that where we are weak in a moment we will always be weak. In the instant that a predator sees that in us we are doomed. Because that predator will keep repeating that in word and in deed so that we will be at his/her mercy. Even a face of kindness or sympathy can be predatory. It is the action that reveals intent. Anyone who will not help you help yourself is a predator. Friends are supposed to help you stay strong because a strong individual is a strong friend. It is true, strength accomplishes great deeds. But only the Titans are born strong. Strengths are gained throughout a lifetime.
There is no shame in asking for help. There is no shame in any weakness. Where perhaps, if shame need even be applied, we should be ashamed of weakness it is in letting it persist. Firends, do not let shame keep you a prisoner of weakness. Shame is a goad as is weakness. And in and of itself is nothing to signify a dark mood or deem yourself valueless. Weakness is a clue that something constructive, action or thought, needs to be done to move into a new phase of your personal journey. If you have shame it is only because the first goad was not strong enough. Where we are weak God can make us strong, true. But God is not a genie in a bottle. He will move hearts from calloused to caring. But we, being creatures in a physical world who must meet physical needs, have to do the actual work.
The above quote came froom a motivational speaker who would not be were it not for the Michigan Rehabilitation Service arm of MI Works. I've said before sometimes you have to look outside of family and friends for help. And he did. I am. I have a weakness which must be overcome. I do not have family who will help me do that. Our long-standing behavioral patterns have established me as the punching bag. As long as I am the only one willing to change there will be no difference in our interaction. So if I want the approval from them that I seek I will have a long and unproductive wait. I do not have friends who know how to support me in my own pursuits because most of them seek nothing higher for themselves than the positions that they have already achieved or have their own family on which to focus. And in truth... I am reluctant to ask for the help that I need from those who might have some insight. I do not like to say I am weak.
You see for all my words, for all I have grown I am still gripped by my pride. It is old thinking that will take time to overcome. But as I grow, I share. If I wait until the end of the journey to process all I have learned to share it with you, then you may miss something important to you know. So many resources in this world are hoaded already. Wisdom should not be one of them.
Take what you can from this. Grow. Be better than your fears will let you be.
It seems that while I am focusing on getting my financial house (11th for those of you keeping score on an astrology chart) in order, there are some personal issues that need to be addressed. And as everything is interrelated, the fun stuff is going to be sparse for a while. i have not lost any of my interest in geeky things. But do want to make sure that we, geeks of all stripes, have as many tools to help us negotiate in the world. So as I learn I pass it on to you.... the prime directive of geekdom.
Schwach und Stark. In German the words weak and strong. Weakness and strength seem to me to be present in each of us in varying measures. Weakness in anything, but especially in a person seems to be the most aggregious of sins in the American mindset. And good luck knowing what another will consider weak. In the American West, for instance, Sun Tzu would have been considered a pansy. Mistakenly so. But it often takes a grand, life ending/altering mistake to realize you have under estimated someone. But that is another story. Passivism seems like weakness to others. We seem to value those who can foist their opinions and wills on another for position, gain and influence above those who can work within the social order and bring others along with them. I will say that, in my opinion, the greatest thing tht Oprah has done was show that others can grow with you as your rise in influence and earnings rather than languish beneath you. She has not suffered at all in bringing others to some measure of success simply by being a cheerleader. If you look at how America was built and who its most powerful were in the industrial age you see the trend to which I refer.
The American industrialist was little better than the train robbers who plagued the American Western frontier. Lumber barons, steel barons, Rag kings, plantaitioners, bankers, brokers and lawyers, all men of strong will were also men who believed that any means to the end required to achieve their goals must be used. Slave labor, forced labor, indentured servitude and forced relocation to serve the industry and the grand magnates of those industries are what built America. Most of the names we associate with philanthropy today were names of avarice and oppression then. Forgive me for not remembering where I read this, but it would seem that those philanthropic gifts are the direct result of a need to protect wealth and not an obligation to fellow man. The names we do not currently know, the architects who tried to impart a sense of social justice to urban communities cramming 15 men to a room for .5 a night, the authors who exposed injustice in papers, pamphlets and magazines were motivated by genuine humanity to do something about the great oppressors.
Every so often we wake up to the oppression we experience. In American there is nothing so pressing as to generate a Tienamin, Chechnyn or any number of recent coupes. But the personal revolutions are happening more often. We are starting to see that those we have always though of as strong really are not. The fist first approach is characteristic of the weak minded. The false friend approach to dealing with peers is also weak minded but far more predatory in nature than straight forward violence. Wheeling and dealing someone into a submissive or subserviant position is a characteristic of greed. But it also demonstrates a degree of control that is born of the dealer's need to mask his or her own weakness.
In all of this, what escapes me is the answer to this question? Why is the fear of being or showing weakness so powerful a drive as to cause one human being to undermine or destroy another? It is often said that adversity breeds character because we meet a struggle and develop the necessary skills to get over, around or under the hurdle. What is said of weakness? What should be said of weakness?
"Those who ask for help are do not do so because they are weak, but because they wish to remain strong"What is said of weakness in ourselves is that we must be ashamed of it; that we deserve to succumb to the stronger wills and fists we encounter. We learn to live defensively: we teach children to hide from bullies, find alternative routes home, find an adult to hide behind. We learn to hoarde against the potential financial or socio economic disaster looming ahead of us. Or in the face of such a frightening spectre, to throw everything away so that there is nothing for someone to take. In the terms of Despereaux's community... we learn to be mice not men. We learn timidity. All the while we extoll the virtues of a nose-to-the-grindstone and cog-in-the-machine menatllity that we often times never realize our own personal goals.Which in its own little ways breeds more oppressors. But again... that is another post. What should be said of weakness?
Only this: weakness is an opportunity for growth. I know, I hate hearing that too. But it is true. Physical weaknesses tell us where we need to focus our energy and activities to gain physical strength. Where we are intellectually weak that is where we must find a tutor. Where we are spiritually weak we must focus our intentions on that that makes us stronger... not weaker. Weakness is not permanent. And that is where I think we falter. Somewhere in our synapses we have gotten the idea that where we are weak in a moment we will always be weak. In the instant that a predator sees that in us we are doomed. Because that predator will keep repeating that in word and in deed so that we will be at his/her mercy. Even a face of kindness or sympathy can be predatory. It is the action that reveals intent. Anyone who will not help you help yourself is a predator. Friends are supposed to help you stay strong because a strong individual is a strong friend. It is true, strength accomplishes great deeds. But only the Titans are born strong. Strengths are gained throughout a lifetime.
There is no shame in asking for help. There is no shame in any weakness. Where perhaps, if shame need even be applied, we should be ashamed of weakness it is in letting it persist. Firends, do not let shame keep you a prisoner of weakness. Shame is a goad as is weakness. And in and of itself is nothing to signify a dark mood or deem yourself valueless. Weakness is a clue that something constructive, action or thought, needs to be done to move into a new phase of your personal journey. If you have shame it is only because the first goad was not strong enough. Where we are weak God can make us strong, true. But God is not a genie in a bottle. He will move hearts from calloused to caring. But we, being creatures in a physical world who must meet physical needs, have to do the actual work.
The above quote came froom a motivational speaker who would not be were it not for the Michigan Rehabilitation Service arm of MI Works. I've said before sometimes you have to look outside of family and friends for help. And he did. I am. I have a weakness which must be overcome. I do not have family who will help me do that. Our long-standing behavioral patterns have established me as the punching bag. As long as I am the only one willing to change there will be no difference in our interaction. So if I want the approval from them that I seek I will have a long and unproductive wait. I do not have friends who know how to support me in my own pursuits because most of them seek nothing higher for themselves than the positions that they have already achieved or have their own family on which to focus. And in truth... I am reluctant to ask for the help that I need from those who might have some insight. I do not like to say I am weak.
You see for all my words, for all I have grown I am still gripped by my pride. It is old thinking that will take time to overcome. But as I grow, I share. If I wait until the end of the journey to process all I have learned to share it with you, then you may miss something important to you know. So many resources in this world are hoaded already. Wisdom should not be one of them.
Take what you can from this. Grow. Be better than your fears will let you be.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Random Acts
Sitting in a coffee shop a young man who is having trouble getting across busy Hammond Road on foot was just offered a ride to school in this subzero and windy weather by a total stranger. He had the barista put his order on hold to run the young man over to the charter school.
There really are people who are willing to step in and lend a hand. I am reminded of the neighbor of my brother who dropped me off at this very coffee shop when he saw me walking down the road. I had no problems accepting the help. This young man did. We teach our children to avoid strangers. And while the young man was at least 15 and should have been able to care for himself, this is weather that could fell the hardiest. It is not a time to blindly follow rote learning.
Avoiding strangers when you are a child under 10 who does not know that there are good and bad in all people is a smart idea. But when you are a teen, and granted do not know EVERYTHING, you can use you can use your brain to learn from each experience. Life is risk. The trick is to know the foolish from the calculated risk. Foolish would have been to continue exposure to these elements.
Kudos to the young man for controlling foolish pride. And kudos to the older man for his kindness in a cold world.
Yes. I know there are preditors... but too many people saw him leave with the young man. And today I prefer to keep my heart warm.
There really are people who are willing to step in and lend a hand. I am reminded of the neighbor of my brother who dropped me off at this very coffee shop when he saw me walking down the road. I had no problems accepting the help. This young man did. We teach our children to avoid strangers. And while the young man was at least 15 and should have been able to care for himself, this is weather that could fell the hardiest. It is not a time to blindly follow rote learning.
Avoiding strangers when you are a child under 10 who does not know that there are good and bad in all people is a smart idea. But when you are a teen, and granted do not know EVERYTHING, you can use you can use your brain to learn from each experience. Life is risk. The trick is to know the foolish from the calculated risk. Foolish would have been to continue exposure to these elements.
Kudos to the young man for controlling foolish pride. And kudos to the older man for his kindness in a cold world.
Yes. I know there are preditors... but too many people saw him leave with the young man. And today I prefer to keep my heart warm.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Exercising the Concept of Release
When I was a younger person I took the losses of friendships very hard. Each loss no matter how minor was a devastating blow because it took so much to develop friendships back then. I was skittish as a young doe and had about as much people smarts. I treasured every friendship as though they were either the first or the last. I did not know the concept of toxicity as related to people. I did not know that some of those friends were not friends and that I was better off without their weights on me.
Having said that, I look at my list of facebook friends and find the numbers dwindle as others find reasons to be without my wit and wiseacre observations. And I struggle for it to be okay. In some instances I can not figure out who left. Which most likely means that the friendship did not need to continue anyway. And in others when I do know who bailed I feel that old familiear twinge of loss and unworthiness.
I know my sense of humor does not match with others. That is ok. Not everyone likes Leno and not everyone likes Letterman. Or whoever. So that is okay. I know my spiritual divergence from the accepted norm from my Catholic/Christian upbringing is offensive to some. And that is ok. Some of the people who left me left because we just did not communicate any better than we did in our youth. And that is ok. It was nice to catch up, apologize for past wrongs and wish each other well. And still others are toxic with a tendency to spread their poison unchecked. It is good to be free of them as well.
There is yet another category of the departed though that has me feeling a bit down. I'd love to tell you that I am putting on my brave face and dealing very well with it. But I am not. On cold nights like this when I am facing a night in a shelter of strangers and a hierarchy that I can not comprehend, the absense of those facebook friends looms like mountain whose crags and crevasses resemble a judgemental and unforgiving old man. Those people who left after attempts to mend fences left even though I keep a select number of toxic people off of my facebook page. But that did not stop them from finding this blog.
Had anyone who left realized that the person who turned them onto these pages could only have done so because they recognized themselves and their part in my story within these unimportant lines then they would, I hope, realize that I have not exaggerrated or falsified my accounts. And they would still be here. And on a cold night I think to myself how awful a person do you have to be for no one to want you in their life? But the truth is it is... not me.
Some people are very good at wielding their toxic swords. I simply have been felled by one. And those who left because they do not see the truth... and are protected by writing device from the general public and can only be known by the principle players, they are not ready for the truth. Nor did they understand that in writing about the past I was trying to illustrate points of forgivness and healing. And, most importantly, I was trying to show that how we would wish a resolution is not always the best resolution. In the long run they are stories of letting go and letting God fix things. It can take only a few months. And sometimes it takes decades. Sometimes healing old hurts takes a life time. And sometimes that healing never happens at all.
It is not easy to look at that smaller list and know that I am better left with the core friends that I do have. I can at least in my adult mind look at those who left me yet again and know that I did the best with what I had to fix the things that went wrong; that I have given Time a chance to resolve issues without the constant bemoaning of my angst ridden teen years.
And now I am at the point in which I can let go. That does not mean that I won't feel bad for a while. But I can let things go better than when I was a kid. And I at least do not carry the burden of being constantly bombarded with schemes and gossip. Now it is only a matter of being able to go forward with confidence, more wisdom and a feeling of security that the friendships I form from this point forward will be measured by their health and not by tally.
Having said that, I look at my list of facebook friends and find the numbers dwindle as others find reasons to be without my wit and wiseacre observations. And I struggle for it to be okay. In some instances I can not figure out who left. Which most likely means that the friendship did not need to continue anyway. And in others when I do know who bailed I feel that old familiear twinge of loss and unworthiness.
I know my sense of humor does not match with others. That is ok. Not everyone likes Leno and not everyone likes Letterman. Or whoever. So that is okay. I know my spiritual divergence from the accepted norm from my Catholic/Christian upbringing is offensive to some. And that is ok. Some of the people who left me left because we just did not communicate any better than we did in our youth. And that is ok. It was nice to catch up, apologize for past wrongs and wish each other well. And still others are toxic with a tendency to spread their poison unchecked. It is good to be free of them as well.
There is yet another category of the departed though that has me feeling a bit down. I'd love to tell you that I am putting on my brave face and dealing very well with it. But I am not. On cold nights like this when I am facing a night in a shelter of strangers and a hierarchy that I can not comprehend, the absense of those facebook friends looms like mountain whose crags and crevasses resemble a judgemental and unforgiving old man. Those people who left after attempts to mend fences left even though I keep a select number of toxic people off of my facebook page. But that did not stop them from finding this blog.
Had anyone who left realized that the person who turned them onto these pages could only have done so because they recognized themselves and their part in my story within these unimportant lines then they would, I hope, realize that I have not exaggerrated or falsified my accounts. And they would still be here. And on a cold night I think to myself how awful a person do you have to be for no one to want you in their life? But the truth is it is... not me.
Some people are very good at wielding their toxic swords. I simply have been felled by one. And those who left because they do not see the truth... and are protected by writing device from the general public and can only be known by the principle players, they are not ready for the truth. Nor did they understand that in writing about the past I was trying to illustrate points of forgivness and healing. And, most importantly, I was trying to show that how we would wish a resolution is not always the best resolution. In the long run they are stories of letting go and letting God fix things. It can take only a few months. And sometimes it takes decades. Sometimes healing old hurts takes a life time. And sometimes that healing never happens at all.
It is not easy to look at that smaller list and know that I am better left with the core friends that I do have. I can at least in my adult mind look at those who left me yet again and know that I did the best with what I had to fix the things that went wrong; that I have given Time a chance to resolve issues without the constant bemoaning of my angst ridden teen years.
And now I am at the point in which I can let go. That does not mean that I won't feel bad for a while. But I can let things go better than when I was a kid. And I at least do not carry the burden of being constantly bombarded with schemes and gossip. Now it is only a matter of being able to go forward with confidence, more wisdom and a feeling of security that the friendships I form from this point forward will be measured by their health and not by tally.
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