When I'm feeling a little self absorbed, which can lead to melancholy, I usually happen upon an article or three that make me grateful for my life and for who I am. This is the first headline I read tonight, and it didn't take me but a second to say, "Wow.... the things we inflict on each other as humans. I'm so grateful to be where I am tonight, safe and warm, with two amazing children and many loved ones in my life."
Cleveland to demolish serial killer's home
By the CNN Wire Staff
updated 8:59 PM EST, Mon December 5, 2011
Eleven bodies were found in and around Anthony Sowell's house in Cleveland, Ohio.
(CNN) -- The city of Cleveland, Ohio, on Tuesday morning will demolish the house where serial killer Anthony Sowell hid the bodies of his victims, officials said.
A jury convicted him in July for kidnapping, abuse of corpses and the aggravated murder of 11 women around Cleveland from 2007 to 2009. In August, he was sentenced to death.
The convictions ended a saga that began in October 2009 with the discovery of the first two victims' remains in Sowell's home in Cleveland. He eventually was accused of killing at least 11 women ranging in age from 25 to 52.
Sowell's inconspicuous two-story home sat in a dilapidated Cleveland neighborhood known as Mount Pleasant. A stench hovered around the area, but no one initially realized it was the smell of decaying human flesh, instead assuming that it was a byproduct of a nearby sausage factory.
In a letter to the families of Sowell's victims, Blaine Griffin, executive director of the Cleveland Community Relations Board, said the demolition "is an important step in helping our community heal and move forward."
"In order to prevent actions that would be disrespectful to the memory of your loved one, your family and our community, the demolition will be performed in such a way that no piece of the property will remain," Griffin wrote in the letter.
CNN's Maggie Schneider contributed to this report.
Reprinted courtesy of CNN.com
I have to take a moment to think about the horrific tragedy the victims and their loved ones experienced. I think it's a great gesture to destroy the house in its entirety. After all, even if it was in liveable shape, who would want to live there?
The lessons in how little control we have over the actions of others and how destructive some of those actions are always make me uncomfortable. I don't like thinking about the lack of empathy, humanity, or love that so many people demonstrate - from small things to big, terrible things like murder.
And yet, for all of the "evil" and bad, there is so much good.
There is a benefit at work for my former coworker who was diagnosed with cancer. We have all volunteered to assemble inspirational tea-light candles. We are all working a shift in the skyway to "sell" them, and we have all bared our creative souls by making posters or writing a story for the online work newsletter. And, even more touching, will be the outpour of donations we receive. People have already responded so positively to the newsletter.
And for these victims of a mind boggling serial killer, their city is demolishing the scene of the crimes... as if to say, "The place of these horrific events doesn't deserve acknowledgement."
For the families of the victims, I hope this provides some amount of peace and closure.
Good Night.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Long time no write
Well, it has been months since my last post, I admit. I'm not going to apologize or make excuses. I'm only going to say that I'm going to do a better job at writing more often. It's good for my soul.
Part of the reason for my absence is yet another lesson in being a self contained, internal locus of control type human, rather than one who allows others to influence me too much - yes, as always there is a balance between being open to feedback and being like a feather in the breeze.
I was writing rather regularly and frequently and then, a reader of my blog told me she wished I would write about more positive things, not wallowing or talking about my divorce, break ups, and other things that make me, well me, and make up the fabric of my story. So, while I appreciate the feedback and do welcome it, I realize that I took it too literally and it made me lose my writing voice a little bit. My voice is my voice - sometimes angry, sometimes bitter, and sometimes in love with life and all who are part of it. Maybe I'm manic, but take me as I am. Dear Reader, I'm not angry with your feedback and I don't hold a grudge. I believe in being honest. I'm just standing up and saying, corny as it is, thanks for the advice but..Please don't take it the wrong way - it's my lesson more than anything... my ongoing lesson in being comfortable and maybe even a little happy with who I am, head to toe.
The beauty of self expression and freedom is that there are times when I want to wallow, or times when I'm feeling reflective, more than others. Sometimes I am full of ideas or plans, restuarant critiques, and other times I want to talk about the woes of dating or the trauma of divorce. The beauty of being who you are, in its purest form, is that it is uniquely you, and it will appeal to some people some of the time. Take it or leave it.
So, I'm back.
I need to do this because I have so much to say. As life goes on and on, so many things happen in a given week, so add months to that and there is a lot to tell. I won't get too bogged down. I'll just take it one memory at a time. These past couple of months, I was sexually assaulted, I tried online dating for a month, am now officially divorced, had my ex-husband leave for the army and come back all in one go, due to unacceptable details in our divorce decree, and have almost walked away from my job. It has been really interesting to say the least, but this is how life goes.
I went on a walk around Lake Harriet early this morning with a friend and we talked about wanting to collaborate on a book. We really should. She has an amazing story - stories within her story, actually. And the same is true of me.
Since I have not written for months, there is a lot of ground to cover. But I'm going to start out small.
The small is the hilarity of coincidence - call it what you will - some say there is no such thing as coincidence and I haven't committed to either side of the argument.
Anyway, I may have written about this in a previous post. In May I gave my phone number to a bartender. Weird. I had never done that before and I'll admit to having had a few drinks - daytime drinking always gets me. So, after much prompting and pressuring by my friend, I left my phone number on the receipt. I was shocked when he actually sent me a text the next day. I never expected to hear from him. Now, I have to go back and check my old posts because I'm curious about how much detail I went into in this post. Damn. Imagine my disappointment in discovering that I skipped from January to July in blogging. That'll teach me to be better about regular writing.
Okay, I have to lay some ground work. He did text me. We went on, I think, 3 or 4 dates, which included sleeping over at his place. We were intimate. On the last "date", he brought "The King's Speech" over and we watched it, snuggling on the couch. Then we made out. After sort of having sex, (it was really really quick), he freaked out and left. Before leaving, he ran around my apartment looking for his shoes. The freak out prompt may have been that I told him he smelled good. He said, "Stop saying that. You're freaking me out." He also said, "I can't stay here. I'm sorry. It's just one of my many hang-ups and you know I have quite a few." (I had gotten a couple of inklings of OCD-esque behavior, but none of it was alarming or seemingly abnormal) - until this night... I helped him find his shoes, while I was wrapped up in a shirt, still naked. He did pause to say, "Are you naked? Cool!"
I was understanding- after all, I don't really like to sleep at someone else's house and have almost had a near freak out myself, just waiting for morning to burn it out of there before breakfast, coffee or awkward conversation. It didn't seem like that big of a deal. So, as he ran down my stairs to get his bike and leave, I thought I was being funny and said, "Good thing I don't have low self esteem." And that my friends, was the end. I never heard from him again. I waited a couple of days and sent him a text that said "Whatever made you freak out, don't worry about it." No reply. No explanation. I may never know. Haven't really cared to know as, quite honestly, there is something really wrong with a guy who has to flee like that and can never offer an apology or explanation.
So, as fate would have it, tonight at the deli counter of the grocery store, I turned around because there was someone behind me. I looked. And then I did a double take because it was him. I said a simple, "Oh, hey" and he looked momentarily displaced. I turned back to the deli counter helper and then the old escaping bartender disappeared. Imagine his memory engaging itself and the horror of recalling his adolescent behavior.
I think it's pretty amazing to have run into him after so many months. I don't have his phone number anymore. I was sure to erase that. But it was hilarious. I wish I knew what had happened in his brain so I could wrap the story up all nice and tidy like a Christmas present, but maybe speculation is the best gift of all.
Happy reading! I am excited to be writing again.
Part of the reason for my absence is yet another lesson in being a self contained, internal locus of control type human, rather than one who allows others to influence me too much - yes, as always there is a balance between being open to feedback and being like a feather in the breeze.
I was writing rather regularly and frequently and then, a reader of my blog told me she wished I would write about more positive things, not wallowing or talking about my divorce, break ups, and other things that make me, well me, and make up the fabric of my story. So, while I appreciate the feedback and do welcome it, I realize that I took it too literally and it made me lose my writing voice a little bit. My voice is my voice - sometimes angry, sometimes bitter, and sometimes in love with life and all who are part of it. Maybe I'm manic, but take me as I am. Dear Reader, I'm not angry with your feedback and I don't hold a grudge. I believe in being honest. I'm just standing up and saying, corny as it is, thanks for the advice but..Please don't take it the wrong way - it's my lesson more than anything... my ongoing lesson in being comfortable and maybe even a little happy with who I am, head to toe.
The beauty of self expression and freedom is that there are times when I want to wallow, or times when I'm feeling reflective, more than others. Sometimes I am full of ideas or plans, restuarant critiques, and other times I want to talk about the woes of dating or the trauma of divorce. The beauty of being who you are, in its purest form, is that it is uniquely you, and it will appeal to some people some of the time. Take it or leave it.
So, I'm back.
I need to do this because I have so much to say. As life goes on and on, so many things happen in a given week, so add months to that and there is a lot to tell. I won't get too bogged down. I'll just take it one memory at a time. These past couple of months, I was sexually assaulted, I tried online dating for a month, am now officially divorced, had my ex-husband leave for the army and come back all in one go, due to unacceptable details in our divorce decree, and have almost walked away from my job. It has been really interesting to say the least, but this is how life goes.
I went on a walk around Lake Harriet early this morning with a friend and we talked about wanting to collaborate on a book. We really should. She has an amazing story - stories within her story, actually. And the same is true of me.
Since I have not written for months, there is a lot of ground to cover. But I'm going to start out small.
The small is the hilarity of coincidence - call it what you will - some say there is no such thing as coincidence and I haven't committed to either side of the argument.
Anyway, I may have written about this in a previous post. In May I gave my phone number to a bartender. Weird. I had never done that before and I'll admit to having had a few drinks - daytime drinking always gets me. So, after much prompting and pressuring by my friend, I left my phone number on the receipt. I was shocked when he actually sent me a text the next day. I never expected to hear from him. Now, I have to go back and check my old posts because I'm curious about how much detail I went into in this post. Damn. Imagine my disappointment in discovering that I skipped from January to July in blogging. That'll teach me to be better about regular writing.
Okay, I have to lay some ground work. He did text me. We went on, I think, 3 or 4 dates, which included sleeping over at his place. We were intimate. On the last "date", he brought "The King's Speech" over and we watched it, snuggling on the couch. Then we made out. After sort of having sex, (it was really really quick), he freaked out and left. Before leaving, he ran around my apartment looking for his shoes. The freak out prompt may have been that I told him he smelled good. He said, "Stop saying that. You're freaking me out." He also said, "I can't stay here. I'm sorry. It's just one of my many hang-ups and you know I have quite a few." (I had gotten a couple of inklings of OCD-esque behavior, but none of it was alarming or seemingly abnormal) - until this night... I helped him find his shoes, while I was wrapped up in a shirt, still naked. He did pause to say, "Are you naked? Cool!"
I was understanding- after all, I don't really like to sleep at someone else's house and have almost had a near freak out myself, just waiting for morning to burn it out of there before breakfast, coffee or awkward conversation. It didn't seem like that big of a deal. So, as he ran down my stairs to get his bike and leave, I thought I was being funny and said, "Good thing I don't have low self esteem." And that my friends, was the end. I never heard from him again. I waited a couple of days and sent him a text that said "Whatever made you freak out, don't worry about it." No reply. No explanation. I may never know. Haven't really cared to know as, quite honestly, there is something really wrong with a guy who has to flee like that and can never offer an apology or explanation.
So, as fate would have it, tonight at the deli counter of the grocery store, I turned around because there was someone behind me. I looked. And then I did a double take because it was him. I said a simple, "Oh, hey" and he looked momentarily displaced. I turned back to the deli counter helper and then the old escaping bartender disappeared. Imagine his memory engaging itself and the horror of recalling his adolescent behavior.
I think it's pretty amazing to have run into him after so many months. I don't have his phone number anymore. I was sure to erase that. But it was hilarious. I wish I knew what had happened in his brain so I could wrap the story up all nice and tidy like a Christmas present, but maybe speculation is the best gift of all.
Happy reading! I am excited to be writing again.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Two for One
Two posts in one day, but honestly, I have bragged her up before --
Please check out Sugar's most recent advice.
Beautiful.
http://therumpus.net/2011/08/dear-sugar-the-rumpus-advice-column-81-a-bit-of-sully-in-your-sweet/#more-85431
Thanks!
Please check out Sugar's most recent advice.
Beautiful.
http://therumpus.net/2011/08/dear-sugar-the-rumpus-advice-column-81-a-bit-of-sully-in-your-sweet/#more-85431
Thanks!
Quiet Time and Musings
Happy August, mid-way through.
I have been doing a lot of thinking and reflecting, a bit of soul searching I suppose.
It has been really helpful.
There have been a lot of changes in my life in the past couple of years. I know this is not new news. (isn't that redundant?)
One that has been on my mind a lot is my current relationship with my parents. I am once again not having contact with them. There is obviously a long, rocky history there and it is a lot to try to summarize in a blogpost, but last night I spent some time writing my dad a letter and even if I don't mail it, it gave me some peace. I want my parents to know that I love them very much. The ongoing conflict I have is to balance this love with protecting myself from their behavior.
My dad is a very angry man - he has been my entire life, his entire life. The hard part is when he's angry, he doesn't know how to stop. You can ask him to stop, but he won't. And he doesn't have a grasp on behavior, as in how you treat the people you claim to love.
Case in point- he recently drove 3 1/2 hours without calling me or talking to me to ask if he could visit me and hid around outside my house for parts of 2 days, hoping to catch me in the act of something. What? I'm not sure. It sounds like something I'm making up, but I'm not. I actually think I understand where it's coming from, although that doesn't make it not crazy.
It stems from the fact that I was raised as a Jehovah's Witness and left that religion. There is a mentality among Jehovah's Witnesses that if you leave the group / organization / it must be for no other reason than to pursue a life of heroin addiction or prostitution. So, I think for whatever reason, my dad may have been trying to prove to himself that this is what I am doing. It really is illogical, so don't spend a lot of time trying to figure it out. And the reason he wants to prove to himself that it's what I'm doing is because it would make me unfit association, and therefore would justify the act of shunning that my entire childhood community and my own brother participate in. My parents have not totally shunned me because they like the opportunity to try to preach to me and re-convert me. This has been another reason for me cutting off contact.
This recent act was a breaking point for me again. It is scary to think about someone having these delusions. It's happened before, but it has been awhile. How do you bridge a gap, or really a chasm between how two people view this world, him and me?
So it was cathartic for me to try to explain my love for my parents along with my fear of them in this letter. I was able to make some sense of my own feelings, which is all I can do.
In the meantime, my dad has leukemia, so it adds a burden of guilt to me. Part of my brain and heart tell me there is nothing I can do and it's not my job to try to fix anything people do - my dad has chosen his life of anger and discontent thru and thru - but the other part screams "Fix them! Help them to find happiness!"
Right now I'm reading a book about Karma and Reincarnation. I am open to all types of beliefs - I have studied Christianity extensively, I've read the book of Buddhism more than once, I have taken world religions classes in college, and I guess I would sum myself up as a possibillian.
http://www.possibilian.com/ -- more to follow on that in a future post.
Anyway, take reincarnation however you will, but whether or not you believe in it, much like Christianity, there are things we can learn and apply right now in this life, whether or not this is the only life we will live and simply return to the ground like animals do.
In this book, the point is made that we work out our karma through our relationships with other people, especially our parents and siblings. In other words, we are each other's greatest teachers.
Here is a quote from the book I'm referencing, "Karma and Reincarnation" by Elizabeth Claire Prophet and Patricia R. Spadaro : "One lesson that comes across loud and clear in reincarnation studies is that no matter what family you are born into, you alone are responsible for who and what you are today. We think we inherit our genius and our limitations from our parents' genes, but in fact we attract to us parents whose genes will fulfill the formula of our karma for this life."
It's an interesting perspective. It made me think about what my relationship with my parents can teach me. How can it make me a better person? It already has, I think. And also, enough with the blame game. Sure, there is damage we all incur from the way we were raised, but to continue to dwell on it and let us define us only hurts us. Thinking of this logically - there are people who spend more time grieving and being angry about their childhood than the time they actually spent in it. That feels unfortunate to me, and a giant waste of time. Acknowledge it and let go.
Dealing with a group of people, my parents included, as part of Jehovah's Witnesses, taught me so much empathy. There is a lot to be said about the power fear can have over people. This particular group offers promises of never getting old, living forever on a paradise earth where there is no more sickness, death or suffering. There is perfection. The concept is taken from the Bible, but other Christian religions interpret that as applying to heaven. In contrast, those who don't believe or don't worship God in the way they feel is the right way, will die without hope of living again.
When I was studying Psychology, I learned about Lawrence Kohlberg's theory of moral reasoning. He proposes 3 levels, with 2 stages within each level.
It is a lot to dissect, but in short:
Level 1: Preconventional morality: People act under external controls. They obey rules to avoid punishment or reap rewards... typical of children ages 4 to 10.
Level 2: Conventional morality: People have internalized the standards of authority figures. They are concerned about being "good", pleasing others, maintaining the social order. This level is typically reached after age 10; many people never move beyond it, even in adulthood.
Level 3: Postconventional morality: People now recognize conflicts between moral standards and make their own judgments on the basis of principles of right, fairness and justice. People generally do not reach this level of moral reasoning at least until early adolescence or more commonly in young adulthood, if ever.
I'm truly not doing his research justice by this quick recap, and yet the point that has always stuck with me is the description of Level 1. When we allow someone else to set up our morality for us, to judge the world in black and white, right or wrong, without considering so many of the nuances for us, we are really stunted.
Handing over your power of reason and your emotions to another person or a group is really detrimental.
I'll end with this favorite quote by Buddha:
"Believe nothing, no matter where you read it or who has said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense."
Enjoy the sunshine!
We have had such amazing weather lately. I've been doing a lot of walking around the lake. I've also been doing a lot of writing offline, just filled up another journal.
I have been doing a lot of thinking and reflecting, a bit of soul searching I suppose.
It has been really helpful.
There have been a lot of changes in my life in the past couple of years. I know this is not new news. (isn't that redundant?)
One that has been on my mind a lot is my current relationship with my parents. I am once again not having contact with them. There is obviously a long, rocky history there and it is a lot to try to summarize in a blogpost, but last night I spent some time writing my dad a letter and even if I don't mail it, it gave me some peace. I want my parents to know that I love them very much. The ongoing conflict I have is to balance this love with protecting myself from their behavior.
My dad is a very angry man - he has been my entire life, his entire life. The hard part is when he's angry, he doesn't know how to stop. You can ask him to stop, but he won't. And he doesn't have a grasp on behavior, as in how you treat the people you claim to love.
Case in point- he recently drove 3 1/2 hours without calling me or talking to me to ask if he could visit me and hid around outside my house for parts of 2 days, hoping to catch me in the act of something. What? I'm not sure. It sounds like something I'm making up, but I'm not. I actually think I understand where it's coming from, although that doesn't make it not crazy.
It stems from the fact that I was raised as a Jehovah's Witness and left that religion. There is a mentality among Jehovah's Witnesses that if you leave the group / organization / it must be for no other reason than to pursue a life of heroin addiction or prostitution. So, I think for whatever reason, my dad may have been trying to prove to himself that this is what I am doing. It really is illogical, so don't spend a lot of time trying to figure it out. And the reason he wants to prove to himself that it's what I'm doing is because it would make me unfit association, and therefore would justify the act of shunning that my entire childhood community and my own brother participate in. My parents have not totally shunned me because they like the opportunity to try to preach to me and re-convert me. This has been another reason for me cutting off contact.
This recent act was a breaking point for me again. It is scary to think about someone having these delusions. It's happened before, but it has been awhile. How do you bridge a gap, or really a chasm between how two people view this world, him and me?
So it was cathartic for me to try to explain my love for my parents along with my fear of them in this letter. I was able to make some sense of my own feelings, which is all I can do.
In the meantime, my dad has leukemia, so it adds a burden of guilt to me. Part of my brain and heart tell me there is nothing I can do and it's not my job to try to fix anything people do - my dad has chosen his life of anger and discontent thru and thru - but the other part screams "Fix them! Help them to find happiness!"
Right now I'm reading a book about Karma and Reincarnation. I am open to all types of beliefs - I have studied Christianity extensively, I've read the book of Buddhism more than once, I have taken world religions classes in college, and I guess I would sum myself up as a possibillian.
http://www.possibilian.com/ -- more to follow on that in a future post.
Anyway, take reincarnation however you will, but whether or not you believe in it, much like Christianity, there are things we can learn and apply right now in this life, whether or not this is the only life we will live and simply return to the ground like animals do.
In this book, the point is made that we work out our karma through our relationships with other people, especially our parents and siblings. In other words, we are each other's greatest teachers.
Here is a quote from the book I'm referencing, "Karma and Reincarnation" by Elizabeth Claire Prophet and Patricia R. Spadaro : "One lesson that comes across loud and clear in reincarnation studies is that no matter what family you are born into, you alone are responsible for who and what you are today. We think we inherit our genius and our limitations from our parents' genes, but in fact we attract to us parents whose genes will fulfill the formula of our karma for this life."
It's an interesting perspective. It made me think about what my relationship with my parents can teach me. How can it make me a better person? It already has, I think. And also, enough with the blame game. Sure, there is damage we all incur from the way we were raised, but to continue to dwell on it and let us define us only hurts us. Thinking of this logically - there are people who spend more time grieving and being angry about their childhood than the time they actually spent in it. That feels unfortunate to me, and a giant waste of time. Acknowledge it and let go.
Dealing with a group of people, my parents included, as part of Jehovah's Witnesses, taught me so much empathy. There is a lot to be said about the power fear can have over people. This particular group offers promises of never getting old, living forever on a paradise earth where there is no more sickness, death or suffering. There is perfection. The concept is taken from the Bible, but other Christian religions interpret that as applying to heaven. In contrast, those who don't believe or don't worship God in the way they feel is the right way, will die without hope of living again.
When I was studying Psychology, I learned about Lawrence Kohlberg's theory of moral reasoning. He proposes 3 levels, with 2 stages within each level.
It is a lot to dissect, but in short:
Level 1: Preconventional morality: People act under external controls. They obey rules to avoid punishment or reap rewards... typical of children ages 4 to 10.
Level 2: Conventional morality: People have internalized the standards of authority figures. They are concerned about being "good", pleasing others, maintaining the social order. This level is typically reached after age 10; many people never move beyond it, even in adulthood.
Level 3: Postconventional morality: People now recognize conflicts between moral standards and make their own judgments on the basis of principles of right, fairness and justice. People generally do not reach this level of moral reasoning at least until early adolescence or more commonly in young adulthood, if ever.
I'm truly not doing his research justice by this quick recap, and yet the point that has always stuck with me is the description of Level 1. When we allow someone else to set up our morality for us, to judge the world in black and white, right or wrong, without considering so many of the nuances for us, we are really stunted.
Handing over your power of reason and your emotions to another person or a group is really detrimental.
I'll end with this favorite quote by Buddha:
"Believe nothing, no matter where you read it or who has said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense."
Enjoy the sunshine!
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Thor
Fantasy comic book stories can teach us a lot. oh, laugh if you will but I'm being serious. I like a story that captures universal, timeless themes like integrity, honesty, valor. I just do.
So, the other night I brought my 12 year old to Thor at the Riverview, a special treat for him to go to the late show. We didn't get home until midnight. He had to sleep until 11 the next day to recover, while I got up at 6:30 for work. I guess that's because I'm so used to doing cool things like going to late movies. (I'm teasing him)
Anyway, it was great for just the two of us to spend time together, while his little brother is at camp (even though I miss him terribly!) We both really enjoyed the movie and we talked about the importance of standing up for what's right - Thor had to learn a really hard lesson that knocked his ego down a few notches. Then he regained his power. (spoiler)
As a parent, Odin had to show Thor some tough love and banish him until he could learn his lesson, the hard way. It's a good reminder for parenting - we don't do these kiddo-s any favors by pampering. I guess what it made me think about is to continue holding my boys to high standards- good grades, working hard.. even small things like finishing their homework before they get to play video games, or not getting to go to the late movie until all the dishes are done. It would definitely be easier to take the path of least resistance and let things slide, but then they'd be lazy, arrogant men walking around on this planet, inflicting themselves on others.
Speaking of camp, now the little one is back and the big one left today. It is emotional once again. As I think about the difference between my two kids, my youngest is more likely to show his emotion, so I might offer him more affection naturally. The oldest is just as emotional, but it's not as visible. So I remind myself to give him hugs and the kisses that he wipes off his cheek because I know he needs it too. He's definitely in the "ah, mom" stage where I am starting to embarrass him. It's pretty funny. The younger guy is starting to do this too, at a much younger age.
I hope he has a wonderful week - I miss him terribly. He is very responsible and helpful, and also he chats a lot. He often makes me laugh during the day with his witty observations. Ugh. I just hope he has fun. 12 is starting to be the awkward age.
I apologize for my sort of non-flowing post. I guess it's not the easiest feat to talk about the depth of love for my kids, and the ongoing lessons and challenges that come with being a mom.
Happy almost August! Where has this summer gone? We better live it up during this last month!
So, the other night I brought my 12 year old to Thor at the Riverview, a special treat for him to go to the late show. We didn't get home until midnight. He had to sleep until 11 the next day to recover, while I got up at 6:30 for work. I guess that's because I'm so used to doing cool things like going to late movies. (I'm teasing him)
Anyway, it was great for just the two of us to spend time together, while his little brother is at camp (even though I miss him terribly!) We both really enjoyed the movie and we talked about the importance of standing up for what's right - Thor had to learn a really hard lesson that knocked his ego down a few notches. Then he regained his power. (spoiler)
As a parent, Odin had to show Thor some tough love and banish him until he could learn his lesson, the hard way. It's a good reminder for parenting - we don't do these kiddo-s any favors by pampering. I guess what it made me think about is to continue holding my boys to high standards- good grades, working hard.. even small things like finishing their homework before they get to play video games, or not getting to go to the late movie until all the dishes are done. It would definitely be easier to take the path of least resistance and let things slide, but then they'd be lazy, arrogant men walking around on this planet, inflicting themselves on others.
Speaking of camp, now the little one is back and the big one left today. It is emotional once again. As I think about the difference between my two kids, my youngest is more likely to show his emotion, so I might offer him more affection naturally. The oldest is just as emotional, but it's not as visible. So I remind myself to give him hugs and the kisses that he wipes off his cheek because I know he needs it too. He's definitely in the "ah, mom" stage where I am starting to embarrass him. It's pretty funny. The younger guy is starting to do this too, at a much younger age.
I hope he has a wonderful week - I miss him terribly. He is very responsible and helpful, and also he chats a lot. He often makes me laugh during the day with his witty observations. Ugh. I just hope he has fun. 12 is starting to be the awkward age.
I apologize for my sort of non-flowing post. I guess it's not the easiest feat to talk about the depth of love for my kids, and the ongoing lessons and challenges that come with being a mom.
Happy almost August! Where has this summer gone? We better live it up during this last month!
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Thoughts on letting go
The depth of emotion that goes with motherhood is difficult to capture in words.
I just said good-bye to my nine year old. He is going to a YMCA camp from now until Friday. He is on the bus right now, making his way to his big adventure. I am still crying, which is totally irrational. Why am I crying? Am I afraid something will happen to him? Not really. Why this sadness over him being gone for a few days? Maybe because it reminds me that he will someday be gone forever, not in my life everyday, because the mark of successful parenting is when your kids leave you and follow their own path. How ironic is that.
A friend said recently that once you become a parent, you forever wear your heart on the outside of your skin - dangerous. It is the most vulnerable feeling you can imagine. And it doesn't quite make sense. It must have to do with the fact that they are literally part of us walking around, exposed and open to the world, that we would die without a thought of ourselves if we could save them...that we have watched them grow from birth, that we have protected them, kept them alive, nurtured them, taught them, all with the goal that they will grow up strong and leave us. It's torture really.
I will take comfort in the fact that having these feelings means I am human, alive, and mentally sound. Even though I want to fight it and push it away, I know it's what it means to be a mother and feel this vulnerable and full of emotion. It's what I chose.
There's been so much written about motherhood and fatherhood, with good reason. It's the strongest bond imaginable and I'm grateful that I get to experience it, even if it's painful at times.
I just said good-bye to my nine year old. He is going to a YMCA camp from now until Friday. He is on the bus right now, making his way to his big adventure. I am still crying, which is totally irrational. Why am I crying? Am I afraid something will happen to him? Not really. Why this sadness over him being gone for a few days? Maybe because it reminds me that he will someday be gone forever, not in my life everyday, because the mark of successful parenting is when your kids leave you and follow their own path. How ironic is that.
A friend said recently that once you become a parent, you forever wear your heart on the outside of your skin - dangerous. It is the most vulnerable feeling you can imagine. And it doesn't quite make sense. It must have to do with the fact that they are literally part of us walking around, exposed and open to the world, that we would die without a thought of ourselves if we could save them...that we have watched them grow from birth, that we have protected them, kept them alive, nurtured them, taught them, all with the goal that they will grow up strong and leave us. It's torture really.
I will take comfort in the fact that having these feelings means I am human, alive, and mentally sound. Even though I want to fight it and push it away, I know it's what it means to be a mother and feel this vulnerable and full of emotion. It's what I chose.
There's been so much written about motherhood and fatherhood, with good reason. It's the strongest bond imaginable and I'm grateful that I get to experience it, even if it's painful at times.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Quick and Random
Aw, that's not what I meant. Why'd you have to go and be dirty like that?
It's the wee hours of the night and I have been up way too late way too often... (could it be I'm trying to savor every last second of this short summer we have?--- fleeting.)
Anyway, I've never traveled to Japan and was surprised to learn about these capsule hotels. They're not new news, but we don't have them here in the U.S. Check it out - Google is weird about inserting a link to images, so just do your own search (sorry) - capsule hotels Japan.
I am intrigued. The photos remind me of Hollywood Squares, stacked on top of each other, except for sleeping purposes, not for exchanging witty banter - or singing the Brady Bunch song. Freaky. I don't know if I could handle it or if I would have a panic attack. It also reminds me of that horrible scene in the X-Files movie... and then wasn't there one like that in the Matrix? Creepy. And I think it instills a primal fear that we may be reduced to such living quarters in the future if the government ever took control in some weird futuristic control -- AAAHH!! Also an ADD moment- need to watch both of those above mentioned movies again. 10 years is far too long. Details are forgotten.
And a related ADD side note, why did I ever read the book "Coma" by Robin Cook as a 14 year old. There are certain word images that will never leave my brain... an interesting future post.
Here is the other random (thought, not encounter, geez)-
Mary Olson, fabulous local artist. I forgot how much I love her work and forgot about the days when considering real live art was in my purchase budget. Hopefully those days will be back. They will.
In the meantime, the background is when I worked for a marketing company in DT Mpls, we hosted an art event that featured local artists. Mary Olson was one. Her work was displayed on our walls for awhile.. and there was one specific painting I always hoped to buy. It sold. But check out this one.. called "Trees" - fantastic.
http://www.mnartists.org/work.do?rid=252348
A salute to local artists and a tilt of the head in confusion about capsule hotels and Robin Cook.
Night night.
It's the wee hours of the night and I have been up way too late way too often... (could it be I'm trying to savor every last second of this short summer we have?--- fleeting.)
Anyway, I've never traveled to Japan and was surprised to learn about these capsule hotels. They're not new news, but we don't have them here in the U.S. Check it out - Google is weird about inserting a link to images, so just do your own search (sorry) - capsule hotels Japan.
I am intrigued. The photos remind me of Hollywood Squares, stacked on top of each other, except for sleeping purposes, not for exchanging witty banter - or singing the Brady Bunch song. Freaky. I don't know if I could handle it or if I would have a panic attack. It also reminds me of that horrible scene in the X-Files movie... and then wasn't there one like that in the Matrix? Creepy. And I think it instills a primal fear that we may be reduced to such living quarters in the future if the government ever took control in some weird futuristic control -- AAAHH!! Also an ADD moment- need to watch both of those above mentioned movies again. 10 years is far too long. Details are forgotten.
And a related ADD side note, why did I ever read the book "Coma" by Robin Cook as a 14 year old. There are certain word images that will never leave my brain... an interesting future post.
Here is the other random (thought, not encounter, geez)-
Mary Olson, fabulous local artist. I forgot how much I love her work and forgot about the days when considering real live art was in my purchase budget. Hopefully those days will be back. They will.
In the meantime, the background is when I worked for a marketing company in DT Mpls, we hosted an art event that featured local artists. Mary Olson was one. Her work was displayed on our walls for awhile.. and there was one specific painting I always hoped to buy. It sold. But check out this one.. called "Trees" - fantastic.
http://www.mnartists.org/work.do?rid=252348
A salute to local artists and a tilt of the head in confusion about capsule hotels and Robin Cook.
Night night.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Busy Body
Work is so busy right now. It's the height of the busiest month for loan closings and I am feeling pretty exhausted so this will be a brief post.
I also had to rush from work early to bring my 12 year old to the doctor for his 12 year old wellness visit. He had to have 3 immunizations - tetanus, chicken pox and meningitis.. so his arms are really sore. I'm so happy and grateful to report that he is the picture of health. He is now over 5 feet tall and weighs over 90 pounds. To believe that I am the mother of this boy-man is actually surreal. I have to say it and don't hate me for it but WHERE DID THE TIME GO? Needless to say, I am overwhelmed with pride for both of my boys.
Next week, my 12 year old starts his week long fencing "camp". I think it's great that he wants to try something unique.
So, my title is referencing my crazy summer schedule and also the character of Ally McBeal. Sometimes I wonder if the fact that she is in everybody's business is supposed to be heroic? When I watch tv shows, I often wonder about the thought that goes behind character development and how deliberate certain traits are and how we are supposed to respond to them, as opposed to how the other characters respond and react to them.
I don't want to lay a ton of ground work here because I am oozing laziness, but Ally works at a law firm with her serious ex boyfriend a la love of her life and his wife. Ex is Billy, his wife is Georgia. So, you can imagine there has been a lot of drama - beginning with their first "re-meeting" to realizing they are hired to work at the same firm to then realizing he is now married. Then his wife loses her job so she is hired as well.
In the episode I watched tonight, Georgia ran into one of her old flames. She wanted Ally to meet him. Then Georgia sort of dominated the situation (dinner for 4) by talking to him and dancing with him. So, Ally felt put out and confronted Georgia about it, telling her that she was using Ally as an excuse to spend time with him. Georgia later admitted it was true.
The point of my irritation came when Georgia and this guy were talking outside the courtroom in a private conversation and pose and he was about to brush something off her shoulder or something and Ally came running from the other side of the room, making this loud noise, to try to stop whatever was about to happen.
I guess my thought is - what is behind this character being the moral police for EVERYONE around here - I kid you not. She dispenses advice non-stop to anyone and everyone. So, is the intent for us to feel annoyed? I sort of think the intent is for us to adore her and to admire her morals. I'm not sure. I guess I have never known anyone quite like her and she would drive me crazy. I am completely and utterly opposed to cheating. I don't think Georgia should have been flirting with this old flame, but remember the rule of supply and demand? If you are constantly announcing your opinion when it's not asked for, it cheapens it. And yet, maybe this genius strategy is for us to love her and her flawed ways, kind of like the characters in Sex In the City. I'm not sure. I'm speculating and I'm judging, no question.
I don't know if I made my point because I love the whole show Ally McBeal. I love watching the quirky cases they argue. And I love the premise of so many aspects of the show. But now I'm wondering if this aspect of her character is going to bug me in future episodes.
Good Night and let the mind rest. As my dad said every night as he tucked me in - "Tomorrow's another big day." and that it is.
I also had to rush from work early to bring my 12 year old to the doctor for his 12 year old wellness visit. He had to have 3 immunizations - tetanus, chicken pox and meningitis.. so his arms are really sore. I'm so happy and grateful to report that he is the picture of health. He is now over 5 feet tall and weighs over 90 pounds. To believe that I am the mother of this boy-man is actually surreal. I have to say it and don't hate me for it but WHERE DID THE TIME GO? Needless to say, I am overwhelmed with pride for both of my boys.
Next week, my 12 year old starts his week long fencing "camp". I think it's great that he wants to try something unique.
So, my title is referencing my crazy summer schedule and also the character of Ally McBeal. Sometimes I wonder if the fact that she is in everybody's business is supposed to be heroic? When I watch tv shows, I often wonder about the thought that goes behind character development and how deliberate certain traits are and how we are supposed to respond to them, as opposed to how the other characters respond and react to them.
I don't want to lay a ton of ground work here because I am oozing laziness, but Ally works at a law firm with her serious ex boyfriend a la love of her life and his wife. Ex is Billy, his wife is Georgia. So, you can imagine there has been a lot of drama - beginning with their first "re-meeting" to realizing they are hired to work at the same firm to then realizing he is now married. Then his wife loses her job so she is hired as well.
In the episode I watched tonight, Georgia ran into one of her old flames. She wanted Ally to meet him. Then Georgia sort of dominated the situation (dinner for 4) by talking to him and dancing with him. So, Ally felt put out and confronted Georgia about it, telling her that she was using Ally as an excuse to spend time with him. Georgia later admitted it was true.
The point of my irritation came when Georgia and this guy were talking outside the courtroom in a private conversation and pose and he was about to brush something off her shoulder or something and Ally came running from the other side of the room, making this loud noise, to try to stop whatever was about to happen.
I guess my thought is - what is behind this character being the moral police for EVERYONE around here - I kid you not. She dispenses advice non-stop to anyone and everyone. So, is the intent for us to feel annoyed? I sort of think the intent is for us to adore her and to admire her morals. I'm not sure. I guess I have never known anyone quite like her and she would drive me crazy. I am completely and utterly opposed to cheating. I don't think Georgia should have been flirting with this old flame, but remember the rule of supply and demand? If you are constantly announcing your opinion when it's not asked for, it cheapens it. And yet, maybe this genius strategy is for us to love her and her flawed ways, kind of like the characters in Sex In the City. I'm not sure. I'm speculating and I'm judging, no question.
I don't know if I made my point because I love the whole show Ally McBeal. I love watching the quirky cases they argue. And I love the premise of so many aspects of the show. But now I'm wondering if this aspect of her character is going to bug me in future episodes.
Good Night and let the mind rest. As my dad said every night as he tucked me in - "Tomorrow's another big day." and that it is.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Thoughts on love
Random post, perhaps.
I may or may not have disclosed in any recent posts that the father of my children, almost ex-husband, is leaving in November for basic training. He joined the army, at age 35. There is a lot of history there and you can draw your own conclusions. You can also trust that there will be many sequential posts as we all adjust to this massive upheaval in our lives.
As you can imagine, the break up of our marriage was the first in the series of upheaval. My children have had to adjust to a lot of changes, thrown at them at break neck speed. He is living with a girlfriend. He is joining the army. The latter being the biggest deal of all.
Because of our history and because I care about him as the father of our two amazing boys, I don't want this post to come across as judgemental or critical. There is just a lot of change that comes along with his decision, and my job is to help my kids transition as painlessly as possible.
As a result, I have done some research on the military and am actually kind of fascinated. It is a realm of existence I am pretty much clueless about. And there is a lot to learn. It is its own culture, no question.
So in the way the universe lays things out for us, my soon to be ex told me on a Thursday in January what his plans were. There was a long application process and a lot of steps he had to take. I know of the ones he chose to share with me and I have no doubt there are countless others. He didn't get accepted until April if that sheds any light on the hoops he had to jump through. There was talk of waivers, physicals, explaining derogatory credit, psychology tests, and so forth.
Anyway, two days later, that following Saturday, I was approached by a guy at my favorite local Mexican restaurant/bar. He lingered behind his group that was leaving and asked my friend and I if he could buy us drinks. I'm pretty sure I posted about this previously but am far too lazy to read back blog posts.
The shortened version of the situation is it turned out this guy is in the Navy and has since shipped out. We communicated off and on until he left. He kept apologizing about the timing of things, but I didn't understand what was going on.
So, because of my interest in my first husband's (should I just reveal his name and get over using all these lengthy descriptions of my relationship to him??) new career choice, and this high quality guy I was privileged to meet and know briefly over a span of a couple of months, I was doing Internet research. My research found a lot of helpful information, like how to talk to children about coping with deployment. I also found countless blogs. The one I was drawn to and have been following is: http://www.thejourneyofanavywife.com/ .
It's interesting to read about drama amongst military wives and a lot of the things they experience. There's a whole language related to the military as well. So, for this Navy wife, her latest post mentioned her husband will be coming home after six months at sea. I can't even imagine how a homecoming like that must go - nervous feelings, wondering if things have changed, both of you experiencing things that you can't really explain or describe to your significant other.
And, I have to say, at the risk of glorifying something very difficult for people to experience, there is an element of sexiness and romance to the whole thing. There is something old fashioned and really, what is the word I'm looking for - maybe classic? about a man going off on a long journey to wage war, hunt for food, or whatever the purpose has been throughout history.
It's not about whether or not you agree with United States politics and global strategy. It's about a man or woman making a commitment to serve. And I think it's really admirable. I've always been one to tear up when I sing the national anthem, and I guess this all just adds to that sentiment. I can pick apart our country all day long, and believe me I have... but tonight, as a woman who can vote and enjoy a lot of freedom, my heart is filled with gratitude. We will always have and need a military, and we can be grateful that we do.
To that point, I also found this posted on more than one blog profile of Navy wives and girlfriends:
"I am in love with a United States sailor. I will support them in their defense of the Constitution of the United States of America. And I will understand that they must obey the orders of those appointed over them. I represent the true fighting spirit of the Navy. And those who have gone before me with strength and loyalty around the world. I proudly stand by the one I love with honor, courage and commitment. I am committed to my sailor and the United States Navy."
If that's not romantic and doesn't incite any type of fantasy or image of those long kisses on the docks by the sea, then we simply have to agree to disagree.
It's a story as old as time - the story of the Sirens, the mermaids, the men at sea- tattoos, pirates, anchors. I find it very intriguing.
It brings me back to the title of my post because all this reading about love made me think of my view of love. In so many ways I'm grateful for what I have experienced these past couple of years. My view of love has changed. I think the view I have now is more liberating and it helps me in my practice of balance and non attachment, relinquishing control, etc.
When I read the blog post about her husband coming home, my heart filled up with love because of their love. I think it's wonderful and heart touching to read of a young woman's deep love for her husband at sea, and her pride at who he is. She's unafraid to write about it. And I think that's beautiful. I guess I also felt grateful that I'm not bitter - when I read all her love filled words, I smiled. After reading her blog for the past couple of months, today I made a comment and told her I wish her and her husband the best homecoming and the best future. I wouldn't want anyone to experience the heartbreak that comes with losing love.
I believe love is a flame, yes I know I'm not the first to say this, but this is a first for me to view it this way. And the flame can burn for a really really long time. And it can burn for only a little while. But while it is burning, it's there and it's real. We can't predict or control how long it lasts. Few people make it to "forever", but there are some who keep it going for a lifetime... so at the very least, this is what we have:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_D17p0D-rks
It's "In My Life" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, beautifully sang - a reminder that it may not last forever, but the greatest part is being able to feel loved and be loved... until the next phase of life and love come along. Those we are with at any given moment are the right person for us at that time. It might be months, it might be years. And then we grow. We help each other along in our journey. The hardest part is letting go, but if we don't, we can't experience what's next for us - greater lessons and most likely greater love, provided we learned something from the one before.
So, congratulations to those are living it right now and have it in their grasp. Be willing to let it go if that day comes, and know that the universe is right there to take care of you until you find the next flame.
Also, a heartfelt thank you to all the people who sacrifice their time, lives, and convenience for our country.
I may or may not have disclosed in any recent posts that the father of my children, almost ex-husband, is leaving in November for basic training. He joined the army, at age 35. There is a lot of history there and you can draw your own conclusions. You can also trust that there will be many sequential posts as we all adjust to this massive upheaval in our lives.
As you can imagine, the break up of our marriage was the first in the series of upheaval. My children have had to adjust to a lot of changes, thrown at them at break neck speed. He is living with a girlfriend. He is joining the army. The latter being the biggest deal of all.
Because of our history and because I care about him as the father of our two amazing boys, I don't want this post to come across as judgemental or critical. There is just a lot of change that comes along with his decision, and my job is to help my kids transition as painlessly as possible.
As a result, I have done some research on the military and am actually kind of fascinated. It is a realm of existence I am pretty much clueless about. And there is a lot to learn. It is its own culture, no question.
So in the way the universe lays things out for us, my soon to be ex told me on a Thursday in January what his plans were. There was a long application process and a lot of steps he had to take. I know of the ones he chose to share with me and I have no doubt there are countless others. He didn't get accepted until April if that sheds any light on the hoops he had to jump through. There was talk of waivers, physicals, explaining derogatory credit, psychology tests, and so forth.
Anyway, two days later, that following Saturday, I was approached by a guy at my favorite local Mexican restaurant/bar. He lingered behind his group that was leaving and asked my friend and I if he could buy us drinks. I'm pretty sure I posted about this previously but am far too lazy to read back blog posts.
The shortened version of the situation is it turned out this guy is in the Navy and has since shipped out. We communicated off and on until he left. He kept apologizing about the timing of things, but I didn't understand what was going on.
So, because of my interest in my first husband's (should I just reveal his name and get over using all these lengthy descriptions of my relationship to him??) new career choice, and this high quality guy I was privileged to meet and know briefly over a span of a couple of months, I was doing Internet research. My research found a lot of helpful information, like how to talk to children about coping with deployment. I also found countless blogs. The one I was drawn to and have been following is: http://www.thejourneyofanavywife.com/ .
It's interesting to read about drama amongst military wives and a lot of the things they experience. There's a whole language related to the military as well. So, for this Navy wife, her latest post mentioned her husband will be coming home after six months at sea. I can't even imagine how a homecoming like that must go - nervous feelings, wondering if things have changed, both of you experiencing things that you can't really explain or describe to your significant other.
And, I have to say, at the risk of glorifying something very difficult for people to experience, there is an element of sexiness and romance to the whole thing. There is something old fashioned and really, what is the word I'm looking for - maybe classic? about a man going off on a long journey to wage war, hunt for food, or whatever the purpose has been throughout history.
It's not about whether or not you agree with United States politics and global strategy. It's about a man or woman making a commitment to serve. And I think it's really admirable. I've always been one to tear up when I sing the national anthem, and I guess this all just adds to that sentiment. I can pick apart our country all day long, and believe me I have... but tonight, as a woman who can vote and enjoy a lot of freedom, my heart is filled with gratitude. We will always have and need a military, and we can be grateful that we do.
To that point, I also found this posted on more than one blog profile of Navy wives and girlfriends:
"I am in love with a United States sailor. I will support them in their defense of the Constitution of the United States of America. And I will understand that they must obey the orders of those appointed over them. I represent the true fighting spirit of the Navy. And those who have gone before me with strength and loyalty around the world. I proudly stand by the one I love with honor, courage and commitment. I am committed to my sailor and the United States Navy."
If that's not romantic and doesn't incite any type of fantasy or image of those long kisses on the docks by the sea, then we simply have to agree to disagree.
It's a story as old as time - the story of the Sirens, the mermaids, the men at sea- tattoos, pirates, anchors. I find it very intriguing.
It brings me back to the title of my post because all this reading about love made me think of my view of love. In so many ways I'm grateful for what I have experienced these past couple of years. My view of love has changed. I think the view I have now is more liberating and it helps me in my practice of balance and non attachment, relinquishing control, etc.
When I read the blog post about her husband coming home, my heart filled up with love because of their love. I think it's wonderful and heart touching to read of a young woman's deep love for her husband at sea, and her pride at who he is. She's unafraid to write about it. And I think that's beautiful. I guess I also felt grateful that I'm not bitter - when I read all her love filled words, I smiled. After reading her blog for the past couple of months, today I made a comment and told her I wish her and her husband the best homecoming and the best future. I wouldn't want anyone to experience the heartbreak that comes with losing love.
I believe love is a flame, yes I know I'm not the first to say this, but this is a first for me to view it this way. And the flame can burn for a really really long time. And it can burn for only a little while. But while it is burning, it's there and it's real. We can't predict or control how long it lasts. Few people make it to "forever", but there are some who keep it going for a lifetime... so at the very least, this is what we have:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_D17p0D-rks
It's "In My Life" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, beautifully sang - a reminder that it may not last forever, but the greatest part is being able to feel loved and be loved... until the next phase of life and love come along. Those we are with at any given moment are the right person for us at that time. It might be months, it might be years. And then we grow. We help each other along in our journey. The hardest part is letting go, but if we don't, we can't experience what's next for us - greater lessons and most likely greater love, provided we learned something from the one before.
So, congratulations to those are living it right now and have it in their grasp. Be willing to let it go if that day comes, and know that the universe is right there to take care of you until you find the next flame.
Also, a heartfelt thank you to all the people who sacrifice their time, lives, and convenience for our country.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Hope less
It took me a couple of days to recover from my latest blog mishap. arrggghhh, a pirate says arrggghhh..
Here's what happened : I spent countless minutes typing up a post about sodium. I'm a little fascinated right now with anatomy, digestion, probiotic theory and whatnot. The humid weather is making me retain water and I'm curious about it.
So, I dedicated my Thursday post to this topic and somehow deleted the entire thing before posting.
You may not believe me and that's okay. But I think it's safe to say it was the best post I have written, hands down. There's no proof, so it's safe to make that claim.
Anyway, by-gones.
I have had a fabulous weekend and enjoyed a lot of sunshine and pool time. This makes me happy and tingly down to my very toes. Friday night, we swam until about 1 a.m. and then followed it with a fire - what a perfect evening.
A highlight of the weekend also was going to a yoga class in my neighborhood Friday morning. I've taken a variety of yoga classes in my practice and this one wins. The teacher is fantastic. It was the best balance of spirituality, centering and an intense work out. My arms are still sore.
I plan to go back - they have classes M.W. and F mornings.
And I can walk, it is so close to where I live. I love that.
I think they have a website but they must not have very good google keywords because all I could get to come up was a map.
Anyway, I'll look at hunting down the website, or maybe I won't. Having only one other student in the class provided me with a lot of one on one attention. I worked up the perfect sweat and had the best day. Doing child pose makes me cry every time and that feeling of surrender and humility carries with me the whole day, which I truly need.
Have a great day!
Here's what happened : I spent countless minutes typing up a post about sodium. I'm a little fascinated right now with anatomy, digestion, probiotic theory and whatnot. The humid weather is making me retain water and I'm curious about it.
So, I dedicated my Thursday post to this topic and somehow deleted the entire thing before posting.
You may not believe me and that's okay. But I think it's safe to say it was the best post I have written, hands down. There's no proof, so it's safe to make that claim.
Anyway, by-gones.
I have had a fabulous weekend and enjoyed a lot of sunshine and pool time. This makes me happy and tingly down to my very toes. Friday night, we swam until about 1 a.m. and then followed it with a fire - what a perfect evening.
A highlight of the weekend also was going to a yoga class in my neighborhood Friday morning. I've taken a variety of yoga classes in my practice and this one wins. The teacher is fantastic. It was the best balance of spirituality, centering and an intense work out. My arms are still sore.
I plan to go back - they have classes M.W. and F mornings.
And I can walk, it is so close to where I live. I love that.
I think they have a website but they must not have very good google keywords because all I could get to come up was a map.
Anyway, I'll look at hunting down the website, or maybe I won't. Having only one other student in the class provided me with a lot of one on one attention. I worked up the perfect sweat and had the best day. Doing child pose makes me cry every time and that feeling of surrender and humility carries with me the whole day, which I truly need.
Have a great day!
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Hello July
Okay, apologies to myself for breaking my promise to myself. There's a Guvner song "Break a Promise" - that's running thru my head right now.
It is a bad sign when the URL for my blog doesn't even show up in my own history and my internet explorer no longer knows to auto-populate the rest of the URL for this alleged blog.... and, it has been over 5 months since my last post.
I apologize to my writing because it has to go back to being rusty, rusty like fingers that don't remember how to write a letter or a journal entry in a lined black book.
It's sort of like yoga. When I am doing it regularly, I'm fairly good at it and the poses flow together fairly effortlessly. Mind you, that is after about 2 weeks of everyday yoga.
Then I don't do it for months, and it is starting over. So creaky mind, start thinking and writing.
Stephen Covey has something to say about it taking 21 days to form a new habit, but what does he say about breaking one? What does he say about getting out of a nice healthy routine? I will add it to my list of things to research and someday I will do a blog post answering all these random questions I have posed to myself.
There is one habit I know I need to break - eating at night. Yikes. This was something I didn't do before this past winter. Curse you, Winter of 2010-2011. Your hold on me was strong. I developed some unhealthy drinking and eating habits - If I'm home, I watch something on Netflix, or read and of course eat along with it. and such healthy things like cheese and crackers. It doesn't take long to gain 15-20 pounds. While I don't have a scale, that's what I'm guessing. In reality, it's probably 10 but it feels heavy in this humid weather.
Anyway, enough about winter, enough apologies, enough rambling about weight because there are few things more boring than listening to a girl lament her weight, for real, I get it. I'm bored myself. It's just hard to undo six (or wasn't winter more like eight this year?) months of winter inactivity, even though that's no excuse.
I'm really here to put in a plug for the most beautiful advice column I have happened upon. Thanks to The Sun magazine for republishing one of her letters and introducing me to her. Thanks to Rachel for The Sun subscription these past two Christmases which has led to beautiful things for me.
Check her out:
Dear Sugar at www.therumpus.net.
Tomorrow I will post the column I keep reading and should really send to all my friends. It is heart wrenching and loving. It's something for young women to think about and remember. Life is fleeting and we get so wrapped up in so many things- we can't see it while we're in it. Sugar looks back and bares her soul for our benefit.
See, I'm laying the groundwork for a new good habit, a daily posting.
Will I remember? I'll give myself 21 days.
Now I have to go because I am completely hooked on these old Ally McBeal episodes. What did we do before Netflix watch instantly? Oh yeah, we paid $125 a month for cable. I still don't have TV. It is now 3 years.
Good Night and Happy Healthy Habit Forming!
It is a bad sign when the URL for my blog doesn't even show up in my own history and my internet explorer no longer knows to auto-populate the rest of the URL for this alleged blog.... and, it has been over 5 months since my last post.
I apologize to my writing because it has to go back to being rusty, rusty like fingers that don't remember how to write a letter or a journal entry in a lined black book.
It's sort of like yoga. When I am doing it regularly, I'm fairly good at it and the poses flow together fairly effortlessly. Mind you, that is after about 2 weeks of everyday yoga.
Then I don't do it for months, and it is starting over. So creaky mind, start thinking and writing.
Stephen Covey has something to say about it taking 21 days to form a new habit, but what does he say about breaking one? What does he say about getting out of a nice healthy routine? I will add it to my list of things to research and someday I will do a blog post answering all these random questions I have posed to myself.
There is one habit I know I need to break - eating at night. Yikes. This was something I didn't do before this past winter. Curse you, Winter of 2010-2011. Your hold on me was strong. I developed some unhealthy drinking and eating habits - If I'm home, I watch something on Netflix, or read and of course eat along with it. and such healthy things like cheese and crackers. It doesn't take long to gain 15-20 pounds. While I don't have a scale, that's what I'm guessing. In reality, it's probably 10 but it feels heavy in this humid weather.
Anyway, enough about winter, enough apologies, enough rambling about weight because there are few things more boring than listening to a girl lament her weight, for real, I get it. I'm bored myself. It's just hard to undo six (or wasn't winter more like eight this year?) months of winter inactivity, even though that's no excuse.
I'm really here to put in a plug for the most beautiful advice column I have happened upon. Thanks to The Sun magazine for republishing one of her letters and introducing me to her. Thanks to Rachel for The Sun subscription these past two Christmases which has led to beautiful things for me.
Check her out:
Dear Sugar at www.therumpus.net.
Tomorrow I will post the column I keep reading and should really send to all my friends. It is heart wrenching and loving. It's something for young women to think about and remember. Life is fleeting and we get so wrapped up in so many things- we can't see it while we're in it. Sugar looks back and bares her soul for our benefit.
See, I'm laying the groundwork for a new good habit, a daily posting.
Will I remember? I'll give myself 21 days.
Now I have to go because I am completely hooked on these old Ally McBeal episodes. What did we do before Netflix watch instantly? Oh yeah, we paid $125 a month for cable. I still don't have TV. It is now 3 years.
Good Night and Happy Healthy Habit Forming!
Thursday, January 27, 2011
I made a promise
My last post said I would write about the awkward meeting of someone. I'm bored though, so I don't know if this will go as well as I hoped. I mean, writing about it. I'm kind of over the whole drunken deal of it all. Maybe the alcohol has finally worked its way out of my pores. Can I just say one thing in my defense? I do not drink anything other than beer and wine usually. So, tequila and I are not friends. As tempting as those amazing margaritas are - yeah, they're in a barrel like a keg, not made individually --so they brine in their own brine all night and taste so delicious- I think they are hallucinogenic... at least the tequila is - I will be a strong person next time and just say no.
Anyway, I've reached the time of year where I am sick of winter, big time. I'm no longer showing a brave face, trying to stay positive, trying to make the most of the snow. I'm done. I'm ready for it to be spring. It's a simple fact -- winter here is just too long. There must be some type of scientific formula for how long a human can survive this weather before finally tiring out.
My answer is still to fight the good fight - to try to get outside as often as possible. I'm noticing it's staying light longer - it's dusk around 5:45 right now. That has prompted me to run around the lake 3 times this week, or at least try. Monday night worked out well. Last night was so cold I only lasted about a mile. The wind had teeth for biting and I just couldn't get past that. I went again tonight. I am carrying my winter weight right now, which loves to take up residence in my ass and upper leg region. I know it all comes with the winter territory - eating more to stay warm, all the residual weight from holiday overeating, and not being able to get outside as much. I try to keep that in mind. A couple of weeks of spring weather and I'll be in better shape, inside and out. At least that's what the sane part of my brain is screaming at the insane part.
So, here's to spring. Another cool thing is Groundhog Day is only a few days away. For some reason, it makes me nostalgic. It's a reliable tradition, a reliable scrap of hope. Either way the groundhog calls it, we are on the home stretch. I mean, worst case scenario - it's six weeks. Does six weeks compare to months? Do the math. I'm too confused. Anyway, the sun is getting closer, brighter, stronger, warmer and that all brings a huge smile to my face.
I'm sorry I'm not writing too much about the recent experience I had with a guy like I foreshadowed in my previous post. I'm still processing it in my mind and the conclusion today is that it was nothing. It was fun and flattering but I think I am choosing a different path this time. I'm choosing to call it what it is from the very beginning. I'm too liberal and he's too conservative. I'm not going to do it this time - I'm not going to try to create someone to be something different than what they are. It is a strange habit I have. I think it's called codependency. Is this my intuition talking?
The conclusion could be flipped tomorrow but I just think I am leaving the whole deal behind as a learning experience. If you really listen, people tell you a lot in every sentence, every inflection in their voice, about how they view the world and that's a direct link to who they are. And while it might sound oversimplified, each thing we do and say gives a glimpse into what the whole of us is. I don't want to work with insecure again. I don't want to direct, teach, carry, any of those verbs that give me more than my fair share of responsibility. I am dead set on being with an equal partner. Now that is oversimplifying. But I'm tired on this winter night and I know there is an amazing episode of Weeds waiting for me on netflix watch instantly.
By the way, my new high school-esque humor has inspired a new saying for me, "I'm totally addicted to weeds" but I pause between weed and s. Ah, clever sophomore. Good Night and Spring? Hurry.
Anyway, I've reached the time of year where I am sick of winter, big time. I'm no longer showing a brave face, trying to stay positive, trying to make the most of the snow. I'm done. I'm ready for it to be spring. It's a simple fact -- winter here is just too long. There must be some type of scientific formula for how long a human can survive this weather before finally tiring out.
My answer is still to fight the good fight - to try to get outside as often as possible. I'm noticing it's staying light longer - it's dusk around 5:45 right now. That has prompted me to run around the lake 3 times this week, or at least try. Monday night worked out well. Last night was so cold I only lasted about a mile. The wind had teeth for biting and I just couldn't get past that. I went again tonight. I am carrying my winter weight right now, which loves to take up residence in my ass and upper leg region. I know it all comes with the winter territory - eating more to stay warm, all the residual weight from holiday overeating, and not being able to get outside as much. I try to keep that in mind. A couple of weeks of spring weather and I'll be in better shape, inside and out. At least that's what the sane part of my brain is screaming at the insane part.
So, here's to spring. Another cool thing is Groundhog Day is only a few days away. For some reason, it makes me nostalgic. It's a reliable tradition, a reliable scrap of hope. Either way the groundhog calls it, we are on the home stretch. I mean, worst case scenario - it's six weeks. Does six weeks compare to months? Do the math. I'm too confused. Anyway, the sun is getting closer, brighter, stronger, warmer and that all brings a huge smile to my face.
I'm sorry I'm not writing too much about the recent experience I had with a guy like I foreshadowed in my previous post. I'm still processing it in my mind and the conclusion today is that it was nothing. It was fun and flattering but I think I am choosing a different path this time. I'm choosing to call it what it is from the very beginning. I'm too liberal and he's too conservative. I'm not going to do it this time - I'm not going to try to create someone to be something different than what they are. It is a strange habit I have. I think it's called codependency. Is this my intuition talking?
The conclusion could be flipped tomorrow but I just think I am leaving the whole deal behind as a learning experience. If you really listen, people tell you a lot in every sentence, every inflection in their voice, about how they view the world and that's a direct link to who they are. And while it might sound oversimplified, each thing we do and say gives a glimpse into what the whole of us is. I don't want to work with insecure again. I don't want to direct, teach, carry, any of those verbs that give me more than my fair share of responsibility. I am dead set on being with an equal partner. Now that is oversimplifying. But I'm tired on this winter night and I know there is an amazing episode of Weeds waiting for me on netflix watch instantly.
By the way, my new high school-esque humor has inspired a new saying for me, "I'm totally addicted to weeds" but I pause between weed and s. Ah, clever sophomore. Good Night and Spring? Hurry.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Bi Weekly, maybe
My goal was to write everyday. Now, I'm at every week, or maybe every two weeks. Life just has a way of being so busy.
I was doing a mental recap of my day earlier and this is the way I found it --
Go to work - work all day without a lunch break because it is still so f*ing busy - I am beyond burnt out but I won't bitchy blog about that because I'm way past that. I need to make the change and it is almost in my grasp - so, less complaining and more action.
On my way home, I was debating on how to spend my couple of hours before I pick up my kids - I need to buy pajamas for this pajama drive we are doing at work - well, let me rephrase- that I am coordinating and orchestrating. I needed to go shopping over the weekend, but I ended up using my time very irresponsibly, to the tune of staying out all night both nights and wasting the next day trying to catch up on sleep - it just never works as well as night time sleep. I think it's because it's so riddled with guilt- I should have slept last night, not try to sleep instead of going to a baby shower. Snap.
I'm also caught up in the angst (or created angst) of meeting someone new and trying to figure out what, if anything, is going on. I think me being so insistent on never giving out my number puts me in another confusing situation because when it comes down to it, I don't want to be the one to call. But I also don't want to be harrassed, which has happened before. It happened just enough to make me not really want to give out my info.
The most productive thing I did over the weekend was go cross country skiing on Saturday with a friend. At least I got outside for some fresh air and exercise. Score one.
So, the debate tonight was - go shopping (you should see the state of my shoes and boots - not to mention the tired sweaters and shirts I've been wearing - my wardrobe is burnt out too) for the pajamas (why do I get myself into these time consuming commitments- oh yeah, because it's for a good cause) -- there's also the Monday night Yoga class I've been missing and wanted to go to. And, I need groceries for my kids lunches for the week, not to mention mine. It's starting to sound like I have ADD.
I got home and I was starving because I'd missed lunch at work. So, I quickly wolfed down some food. Then I landed on my decision - run around the lake. That was really rewarding. But it put me at 7 p.m. What would I do with my last hour? I remembered I was out of gas. So, that was my start. Is my brain completely fried? When I got to the gas station, I popped the trunk rather than opening the gas door. Maybe it was low blood sugar.
Getting groceries was the next best use of my remaining minutes. I did my shopping, got to the check out and realized I had left my check card in the car from when I pumped gas. I then had to run out to the car to track it down.
That left me 8 minutes to run to the liquor store (I am also out of wine) and then go get the kids.
The point of this entire tirade is to remind myself that "partying" - oh I do hate that word- all weekend and not getting any of life's necessities taken care of is a very foolish decision. I'm judging myself on this one and hoping I'll remember next time to take care of first things first -- one of them being sleep and proper nutrition. I do feel the need at this point to clarify that my kids were with their father all weekend, thus the very childlike behavior on my part.
I promise the next post will be about the whole meeting someone and how it all went down in this particular case. By then I will probably know more anyway - both about how I feel and if it was just a mistake. I guess what I mean by that is once all the smoke clears and the beer / wine/ margaritas wear(s) off, what is there and what was there? I usually know right away but this time I don't. Sometimes you just don't know. Time makes it more clear, and that is a lesson.
I was doing a mental recap of my day earlier and this is the way I found it --
Go to work - work all day without a lunch break because it is still so f*ing busy - I am beyond burnt out but I won't bitchy blog about that because I'm way past that. I need to make the change and it is almost in my grasp - so, less complaining and more action.
On my way home, I was debating on how to spend my couple of hours before I pick up my kids - I need to buy pajamas for this pajama drive we are doing at work - well, let me rephrase- that I am coordinating and orchestrating. I needed to go shopping over the weekend, but I ended up using my time very irresponsibly, to the tune of staying out all night both nights and wasting the next day trying to catch up on sleep - it just never works as well as night time sleep. I think it's because it's so riddled with guilt- I should have slept last night, not try to sleep instead of going to a baby shower. Snap.
I'm also caught up in the angst (or created angst) of meeting someone new and trying to figure out what, if anything, is going on. I think me being so insistent on never giving out my number puts me in another confusing situation because when it comes down to it, I don't want to be the one to call. But I also don't want to be harrassed, which has happened before. It happened just enough to make me not really want to give out my info.
The most productive thing I did over the weekend was go cross country skiing on Saturday with a friend. At least I got outside for some fresh air and exercise. Score one.
So, the debate tonight was - go shopping (you should see the state of my shoes and boots - not to mention the tired sweaters and shirts I've been wearing - my wardrobe is burnt out too) for the pajamas (why do I get myself into these time consuming commitments- oh yeah, because it's for a good cause) -- there's also the Monday night Yoga class I've been missing and wanted to go to. And, I need groceries for my kids lunches for the week, not to mention mine. It's starting to sound like I have ADD.
I got home and I was starving because I'd missed lunch at work. So, I quickly wolfed down some food. Then I landed on my decision - run around the lake. That was really rewarding. But it put me at 7 p.m. What would I do with my last hour? I remembered I was out of gas. So, that was my start. Is my brain completely fried? When I got to the gas station, I popped the trunk rather than opening the gas door. Maybe it was low blood sugar.
Getting groceries was the next best use of my remaining minutes. I did my shopping, got to the check out and realized I had left my check card in the car from when I pumped gas. I then had to run out to the car to track it down.
That left me 8 minutes to run to the liquor store (I am also out of wine) and then go get the kids.
The point of this entire tirade is to remind myself that "partying" - oh I do hate that word- all weekend and not getting any of life's necessities taken care of is a very foolish decision. I'm judging myself on this one and hoping I'll remember next time to take care of first things first -- one of them being sleep and proper nutrition. I do feel the need at this point to clarify that my kids were with their father all weekend, thus the very childlike behavior on my part.
I promise the next post will be about the whole meeting someone and how it all went down in this particular case. By then I will probably know more anyway - both about how I feel and if it was just a mistake. I guess what I mean by that is once all the smoke clears and the beer / wine/ margaritas wear(s) off, what is there and what was there? I usually know right away but this time I don't. Sometimes you just don't know. Time makes it more clear, and that is a lesson.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Harvest chicken
I found the best recipe for a hearty, soulful meal.
The story behind it is also sweet - my grandma bought me a gift subscription for Family Circle, something I can pretty safely say I would not have purchased for myself. Turns out, there are some pretty great recipes in it!
I started receiving the subscription November or December. I decided to try this recipe tonight -- I did not prepare it in a slow cooker as directed. I didn't have time this morning to get it ready (that's a shock!) So, I'll vouch for the fact that if you follow the directions but make it on the stove in a regular old stew pot, it turns out just fine, in a matter of about 45 minutes (not counting chopping veggies) -- drum roll..... and thanks Nanny!
Harvest Chicken:
*1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts cut into 1 inch cubes
*3 tablespoons flour
*1/2 teaspoon salt
*1/4 teaspoon pepper
*12 ounces small new potatoes, scrubbed and halved
*2 cups baby carrots, cut into thirds
*2 celery stalks, cut into 1/2 inch pieces
*1 large onion, chopped
*1 can (4 ounces) sliced mushrooms, drained (I used about 1 cup of sliced fresh instead)
*2 cloves garlic, minced
*3/4 teaspoon dried thyme
*1/2 teaspoon dried sage
*1 cup low sodium chicken broth (I used regular salt content broth)
*1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened (I used salted)
In a medium-size bowl, stir together chicken, 2 tablespoons of the flour, 1/4 teaspoon of the salt and the pepper, add to slow cooker. Stir in potatoes, carrots, celery, onion, mushrooms, garlic, 1/2 teaspoon of the thyme, the sage and all the broth.
Cover and cook on HIGH for four hours or on LOW for 6 hours (this is where I used the regular old stove top and cooked until the vegetables were soft, which was about 40 - 45 minutes)
In a small bowl, stir together remaining 1 tablespoon flour and the butter until a paste forms. Push the chicken and vegetables to one side and whisk paste, remaining 1/4 teaspoon each salt and thyme into slow cooker bowl. Cook 1 hour or more until thickened. (So, for stove top, I made the paste and was able to whisk it in as well. I did not cook it for an additional hour. It was pretty much instantaneously ready once the paste was enveloped by the existing mixture - wow do I sound like a nerd) Just note -- don't think of this as a soup -- it is a really really thick stew. I'd venture to say that it's pretty thick even without that last step of making a flour / butter paste --- so you can use your discretion when it comes to thickness. I'll just say that the flavor is phenomenal! Both of my kids loved it, which is a rare feat for something so veggie-centric.
And, the comfort of it all --- perfect for a cold January night. What is it about potatoes?
So, with my belly full of warm food, and a couple of glasses of rich red wine, I'm going to end my post with the happiest of moods. Tonight, there is no past or future. There is just pure contentment.... and an episode of Weeds -- thanks G, I am totally hooked. You were right - it's fabulous.
Happy Eating!
The story behind it is also sweet - my grandma bought me a gift subscription for Family Circle, something I can pretty safely say I would not have purchased for myself. Turns out, there are some pretty great recipes in it!
I started receiving the subscription November or December. I decided to try this recipe tonight -- I did not prepare it in a slow cooker as directed. I didn't have time this morning to get it ready (that's a shock!) So, I'll vouch for the fact that if you follow the directions but make it on the stove in a regular old stew pot, it turns out just fine, in a matter of about 45 minutes (not counting chopping veggies) -- drum roll..... and thanks Nanny!
Harvest Chicken:
*1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts cut into 1 inch cubes
*3 tablespoons flour
*1/2 teaspoon salt
*1/4 teaspoon pepper
*12 ounces small new potatoes, scrubbed and halved
*2 cups baby carrots, cut into thirds
*2 celery stalks, cut into 1/2 inch pieces
*1 large onion, chopped
*1 can (4 ounces) sliced mushrooms, drained (I used about 1 cup of sliced fresh instead)
*2 cloves garlic, minced
*3/4 teaspoon dried thyme
*1/2 teaspoon dried sage
*1 cup low sodium chicken broth (I used regular salt content broth)
*1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened (I used salted)
In a medium-size bowl, stir together chicken, 2 tablespoons of the flour, 1/4 teaspoon of the salt and the pepper, add to slow cooker. Stir in potatoes, carrots, celery, onion, mushrooms, garlic, 1/2 teaspoon of the thyme, the sage and all the broth.
Cover and cook on HIGH for four hours or on LOW for 6 hours (this is where I used the regular old stove top and cooked until the vegetables were soft, which was about 40 - 45 minutes)
In a small bowl, stir together remaining 1 tablespoon flour and the butter until a paste forms. Push the chicken and vegetables to one side and whisk paste, remaining 1/4 teaspoon each salt and thyme into slow cooker bowl. Cook 1 hour or more until thickened. (So, for stove top, I made the paste and was able to whisk it in as well. I did not cook it for an additional hour. It was pretty much instantaneously ready once the paste was enveloped by the existing mixture - wow do I sound like a nerd) Just note -- don't think of this as a soup -- it is a really really thick stew. I'd venture to say that it's pretty thick even without that last step of making a flour / butter paste --- so you can use your discretion when it comes to thickness. I'll just say that the flavor is phenomenal! Both of my kids loved it, which is a rare feat for something so veggie-centric.
And, the comfort of it all --- perfect for a cold January night. What is it about potatoes?
So, with my belly full of warm food, and a couple of glasses of rich red wine, I'm going to end my post with the happiest of moods. Tonight, there is no past or future. There is just pure contentment.... and an episode of Weeds -- thanks G, I am totally hooked. You were right - it's fabulous.
Happy Eating!
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Before there was Eat Pray Love...
.... there was a book called "Without Reservations" by Alice Steinbach. She is a single mom who decides, after her two boys are finished with college, to travel for awhile. She is first in Paris, then in London... that's where I'm at so far. There are of course, huge differences between this book and "Eat, Pray, Love", but I like this theme of women who leave their lives for awhile and spend time freely traveling and taking in the sights. It gives me hope of writing my own story, in my voice... a nice reminder that it's never too late.
One major difference between "Without Reservations" and "Eat Pray Love" is that Alice Steinbach is significantly older and her divorce isn't as fresh and raw as Elizabeth Gilbert's. This book delves into finding or maybe rediscovering one's identity at an older age and as a mother whose children no longer need her constant care and attention. Of course, we never stop worrying about our kiddo-s but -- How do we define ourselves when we take away titles like "mother, wife, daughter, ex-wife, aunt" and so on? How do we keep our identity in a partnership or a marriage? How do we find ourselves again, especially if years or decades have passed since we were really in touch with who we were? Or, what if we never were and now is the time to figure out our glorious selves?
Alice also muses over her past a little bit. She addresses some of her regrets in regard to raising her children - things she would have done differently. I think every mother can relate to that, no matter what phase of life we are in. But a new friend she meets in Paris says, "But when you speak of your sons it is always with admiration. Is it true you would like to return and do things that might change how they are"? Good point, Alice realizes. I, as a mother myself, like that viewpoint as well and hope to keep it somewhere in my little guilt factory as a potential wet blanket on the feelings of doubt that might crop up regarding my own mothering "skills", both now and later.
In addition, reading this book definitely heightens my dreams of travel. Travel makes me feel alive. It reminds me of how big this planet is and as I get away from my everyday life, it's like taking a bird's eye view- it all seems so very minor and unimportant as the big wheel of life spins.
I'm thankful to authors like Alice who bare their souls so that the rest of us might learn something. The fact that she is just that much older than me teaches me another valuable lesson. Life is short- too short for regrets and too short to settle for mediocrity or the unanswered "what ifs?" She shares her fears, her dark times, her self doubt, and for that, we can be grateful. She gives me hope that I can realize my dream too.
She subtly touches on some feminist issues, possibly not intentionally. This reminded me of the women who pioneered rights and equality for us. She was in her fifties when she wrote the book, published in 2000. I believe her travels began around 1996. So, her world was very different from what I grew up in. It was a big deal to be an independent woman, less common than now. What a great way to celebrate her independence!
So, happy 2011 and may all your wishes come true, and a la "The Alchemist" what's your personal legend? And, what is mine? While reflection on my past is important, I intend to look forward more this year... as in "what's going to happen next?" instead of "what happened?" It's best to live in the moment of course, but a girl's got to have some plans! Wait, am I a woman now?
One major difference between "Without Reservations" and "Eat Pray Love" is that Alice Steinbach is significantly older and her divorce isn't as fresh and raw as Elizabeth Gilbert's. This book delves into finding or maybe rediscovering one's identity at an older age and as a mother whose children no longer need her constant care and attention. Of course, we never stop worrying about our kiddo-s but -- How do we define ourselves when we take away titles like "mother, wife, daughter, ex-wife, aunt" and so on? How do we keep our identity in a partnership or a marriage? How do we find ourselves again, especially if years or decades have passed since we were really in touch with who we were? Or, what if we never were and now is the time to figure out our glorious selves?
Alice also muses over her past a little bit. She addresses some of her regrets in regard to raising her children - things she would have done differently. I think every mother can relate to that, no matter what phase of life we are in. But a new friend she meets in Paris says, "But when you speak of your sons it is always with admiration. Is it true you would like to return and do things that might change how they are"? Good point, Alice realizes. I, as a mother myself, like that viewpoint as well and hope to keep it somewhere in my little guilt factory as a potential wet blanket on the feelings of doubt that might crop up regarding my own mothering "skills", both now and later.
In addition, reading this book definitely heightens my dreams of travel. Travel makes me feel alive. It reminds me of how big this planet is and as I get away from my everyday life, it's like taking a bird's eye view- it all seems so very minor and unimportant as the big wheel of life spins.
I'm thankful to authors like Alice who bare their souls so that the rest of us might learn something. The fact that she is just that much older than me teaches me another valuable lesson. Life is short- too short for regrets and too short to settle for mediocrity or the unanswered "what ifs?" She shares her fears, her dark times, her self doubt, and for that, we can be grateful. She gives me hope that I can realize my dream too.
She subtly touches on some feminist issues, possibly not intentionally. This reminded me of the women who pioneered rights and equality for us. She was in her fifties when she wrote the book, published in 2000. I believe her travels began around 1996. So, her world was very different from what I grew up in. It was a big deal to be an independent woman, less common than now. What a great way to celebrate her independence!
So, happy 2011 and may all your wishes come true, and a la "The Alchemist" what's your personal legend? And, what is mine? While reflection on my past is important, I intend to look forward more this year... as in "what's going to happen next?" instead of "what happened?" It's best to live in the moment of course, but a girl's got to have some plans! Wait, am I a woman now?
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