I have never been much of a collector. Growing up in a transient military household we were not encouraged to have 'things'. Just the word 'clutter' sends chills up my spine. However, I do admire a well placed Marthaesque collection displayed just so on the cover of a magazine. So much so that I even began to desire my own collection. Unfortunately for me, my Spartan upbringing and nature will not allow me to collect inanimate objects that require regular dusting. However, my constantly functioning, yet occasionally misfiring brain, recently decided to bypass my sense and reasoning and has started a collection for me.
This collection doesn't require regular dusting, nor does it take up space in my home. At least not permanently. It is a collection of friends. Ahhh, doesn't that sound sweet. Not so much. You see I am an introvert. Well, an extroverted introvert. Yes, there really is such a thing. We are a rare group of people that like being around others and always seem to have fun, but find true rejuvenation and rest in being alone. Most people mistake us for outgoing extroverts and at times we even manage to confuse ourselves, but we truly enjoy being alone. Visiting and socializing is always entertaining but unfortunately it is also draining.
The solution for living a balanced life of an extroverted introvert appears simple enough and it is also my favorite word, balance. Go out with or have a few selected friends over to visit and enjoy my sparkling personality followed by plenty of alone time with that same sparkling personality. This so called balance has seemed to work well over the years, perhaps leaning a little more towards time alone, but still not so bad. Unfortunately, my desire for a collection along with my misfiring brain has caused some problems recently. Every where I go, I can't stop myself from befriending people. Just the other day I nearly invited the post office worker I was buying stamps from over for tea. Things have gotten out of control. It's as if I have become one of those women whose creepy dolls have taken over the house. To the point that when you walk in the living room they are sitting and laying all over the room. There isn't even a spot for a real person to sit on the couch. Not to say that the friends I have collected are creepy, well not all of them, but I have let things get out of control.
The Spartan in me just wants to go back to the necessities of life. One or two dear friends whose relationships provide a chance to give and receive along with plenty of time to sit in my office and stare out the window at my strange neighbor shoveling snow off the pond in the middle of a snow storm. I don't have an answer and I'm not saying collecting friends is wrong, but it is hard to be alone when one is always inviting the world over or out. Perhaps, if I just start picking up shot glasses from truck stops and have my husband build me a curio cabinet to place them in, I will convince my brain that we are indeed collecting something and I will once again find the balance I crave.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Selective Noise
I consider myself outdated at least in the technical sense. I have always balked at technology. I might possibly be the only person under 40 whose cell phone doesn't have a texting keyboard. This is by choice. I obviously have a computer and clearly a blog, but this is only because one does have to function in the world or at least show signs of attempting. For years, I fought email and praised the values of snail mail, but then one day it occurred to me that email could in fact be used to my advantage. Being the extroverted introvert that I am, I found great pleasure and ease in being able to avoid the draining small talk that ensued whenever I had to call someone to ask a question or give information.
So you can imagine my excitement this morning when I, out of mere curiosity, unhooked my son's charging ipod from my laptop, placed the headphones in my ears and heard the sounds of Annie Lennox and Five for Fighting instead of the cries and demands of my family. I know ipods are 'outdated', what with iphones, Droids, and Siths. But, this is something new for me. Honestly, I never saw the point. I crave silence not more noise. However, this morning I learned that if you can't have silence then at least you should be able to choose you noise, and today I choose Jack Johnson.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Following the Rules
Minutes before I was about to make a new post, I came across another blog on why people unsubscribe. It was painfully amusing. For the most part, I follow the "How to Keep Subscribers" rules, but I was definitely struck by my lack of following one in particular. It, being written by a man and all, was brief and stated that you should not have your topics all over the place. He claimed this was just a window into an undisciplined life. I must say that I felt a strong need to stop and ponder this. You see, my blog is about my ramblings. Just whatever 'crap' (please read this word with a British accent, it just sounds better that way) or, on rare occasions, wisdom I feel like sharing with the outside world. To say I am undisciplined is almost comical. I mean, I can't go and neatly place my 'boots' in the boot tray without straightening the corner of the entry rug that was off by a few millimeters. So, now here I find myself in quite a quandary. Do I become more focused and stick to a common topic like "The Health Benefits of Knitting" or do I just stay with my original game plan, which was to write about my life in the hopes of helping myself and a very select few become comfortable in who they are? In order to be secure or know your own identity, you must be comfortable with your thoughts. You don't necessarily need to understand them, but you do need to befriend them and maybe share them on occasion. So, maybe I will just continue on and risk a possible pandemic of unsubscriptions on the grounds of principle. There, all that brilliance stated in less than 500 words. Just following the rules, well at least some of them.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Medicating My Way Through Motherhood
I wonder how much ibuprofen a mother takes in her lifetime as a result of being a parent? Today, while I was shopping at my friendly local Target, I was able to partake in one of my favorite pastimes, people watching. Being that I was at Target, the comment worthy Walmart people were absent, but I did notice two mothers of toddlers talking. They were clearly catching up after a prolonged absence in each others lives. They were both quite animated shaking their heads and gesturing. Both were fighting to share how hard and challenging things had become now that they were mothers. It brought me back to that season of my life. The dreaded infant and toddler years. These seem like dark years when you are in them, years full of sleeplessness, repetitive mundane tasks, the absence of reason & little to no makeup. However, they are only the beginning.
The early years definitely have their trials and for some they are even noteworthy. I personally have an entire journal full of brutal details that even now make me shudder just thinking of them. But, the problem with the early years, is that they are just that. You see there are many, many more years to come. I now find myself in what is referred to, at least by me, as the middle years. These years bring a different reason for pain medication. They are the beginning of the heartbreak and worry stage. Nothing can prepare a mom for the first time she sees or finds out her child has been rejected by their peers or when the healthy baby she once held so tightly in her arms is now a boy in the hospital unable to breathe on his own. The body can't help but react in such a manner that a pain reliever washed down with a glass of wine is the only cure. Now having once been a part of the early years that changed and moved on, I am very much aware that the late years are coming and will no doubt arrive with great force.
I can't write about the late years with any real insight, I haven't quite arrived yet. I have witnessed and heard the cries of mothers as they express the hurt and pain they feel over the helplessness that has moved into their lives if not permanently, then at least with a long term lease. I don't know, but am pretty sure if you were to do a study it would show that mothers of teens make up a huge chunk of recipients for prescription mood altering drugs. Or, at the very least make up most of the numbers at drunken bunko nights.
Being a parent never ends. Once the late years have been brushed under the rug with a little therapy, the later years start. These are the sideline years, where the problems get bigger and more profound, but you are no longer an active player in the game. You just get to sit back and pray that they have been equipped with what they need to survive this thing called life. This takes me back to those two moms at the Target, and what I want to say to them and myself is, "Don't make a big deal out of the small things, because soon enough there will be big things and you don't need your stomach messed up from previous ibuprofen overdosing."
The early years definitely have their trials and for some they are even noteworthy. I personally have an entire journal full of brutal details that even now make me shudder just thinking of them. But, the problem with the early years, is that they are just that. You see there are many, many more years to come. I now find myself in what is referred to, at least by me, as the middle years. These years bring a different reason for pain medication. They are the beginning of the heartbreak and worry stage. Nothing can prepare a mom for the first time she sees or finds out her child has been rejected by their peers or when the healthy baby she once held so tightly in her arms is now a boy in the hospital unable to breathe on his own. The body can't help but react in such a manner that a pain reliever washed down with a glass of wine is the only cure. Now having once been a part of the early years that changed and moved on, I am very much aware that the late years are coming and will no doubt arrive with great force.
I can't write about the late years with any real insight, I haven't quite arrived yet. I have witnessed and heard the cries of mothers as they express the hurt and pain they feel over the helplessness that has moved into their lives if not permanently, then at least with a long term lease. I don't know, but am pretty sure if you were to do a study it would show that mothers of teens make up a huge chunk of recipients for prescription mood altering drugs. Or, at the very least make up most of the numbers at drunken bunko nights.
Being a parent never ends. Once the late years have been brushed under the rug with a little therapy, the later years start. These are the sideline years, where the problems get bigger and more profound, but you are no longer an active player in the game. You just get to sit back and pray that they have been equipped with what they need to survive this thing called life. This takes me back to those two moms at the Target, and what I want to say to them and myself is, "Don't make a big deal out of the small things, because soon enough there will be big things and you don't need your stomach messed up from previous ibuprofen overdosing."
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Winter Solstice
I find the Winter Solstice perhaps one of the most exciting days of the year. I have always loved the fact that it is shorter than any other day of the year. Less hours for making mistakes or for demanding people to demand things of me. Just a brilliant gift handed down from Mother Nature. There is a touch of sadness that comes with this day and that is the gradual lengthening of days that begins tomorrow. Before I know it, the days are so long that I have made twice as many mistakes and those demanding people have an infinite list of requests that I apparently have all the time in the world to grant. I guess if things seemed always as perfect as today, then I wouldn't view them as perfect. The perfection of today has included an unexpected errand to a friend's house, an extra long and expensive trip to the grocery store, the weekly OCD cleaning of my kitchen and furniture & the preparation of two hot meals for those demanding people previously mentioned. Thank goodness I can call it quits early. Happy Winter Solstice!
Sunday, December 19, 2010
The Complications of Living Simply
I long to have a simple life. One with few possessions and even fewer complications. "Is this possible?", I ask myself. And, self usually responds, "Yes, but at a price."
I imagine writing myself into my favorite novel, it's one where there is a large sparsely furnished Victorian set in the middle of a small quaint town in the north of Scotland. There is no television, no family drama and just enough money for the necessities of life and a good bottle of wine. To me, the plot is irrelevant, I love this book for the setting. It pulls at my inner desire to live in a world where quiet companionship with loved ones and nature are valued. I speak of a novel, not a non-fiction piece because, although what is written is not completely unattainable, it is something that comes with a price many of us don't want to pay.
To live simply, is to live opposite of the mainstream. The best analogy I can think of is the Salmon that swim up the Columbia river each year against the current, in order to lay their eggs. They do this with a blind determination that, in the end, brings success along with a battered worn out body and then finally death. It is a death brought on by exhaustion. Fighting the current continuously takes everything they have. If the Salmon relents even for a moment, it is pushed back in the direction of the river's flow. The same can be said of the world we live in.
I can make the decision to buy only what I need, what is practical, but unfortunately all around me is marketing at its best. It comes in the form of the television, computer, phone, consumer tracking, and even friends and acquaintances. I can resist this marketing, but at a cost. It takes continuous strength of mind and character. If I slip up even for a moment, I am pushed back into the 'must have' frenzy that is all around me.
I can choose to find my happiness in quiet companionship. But, as I am still learning most relationships come with a nice dose of human nature. Everyone, including myself strives for their own way. We can be amicable only for so long, before self rises up and demands its due. Companionship is attainable, but the quiet can only come when both parties are continuously denying themselves. Or, put another way choosing to push against their true natures . We are human and will fail from time to time. Failure often brings its friend, drama, and quiet makes a soundless exit.
Often, I seek to find pleasure in nature. There is nothing more healing than a basic walk through the woods or thrilling than a view that only mother nature could provide. However, even nature has its follies. More times than not, the spectacular views have been purchased and sold to an elite few. Woods have been reduced to clumps of trees surrounding freshly built suburbia, hardly suitable for peaceful strolls. Thankfully, nature can manifest itself in many ways. I can still choose to enjoy things like a warm sunny day or a cozy rainy afternoon. Unfortunately, my moods are rarely in tune with the weather. I usually want rainy when its sunny and vice versa.
"So, it is possible to live simply.", I tell myself, but it is also exhausting. Is that a price I am willing or more importantly able to pay? I don't have an answer, honestly I am afraid of coming up with one. I don't want to stop hoping or believing that I will one day be the Salmon that not only lays her eggs, but lives to tell her story.
I imagine writing myself into my favorite novel, it's one where there is a large sparsely furnished Victorian set in the middle of a small quaint town in the north of Scotland. There is no television, no family drama and just enough money for the necessities of life and a good bottle of wine. To me, the plot is irrelevant, I love this book for the setting. It pulls at my inner desire to live in a world where quiet companionship with loved ones and nature are valued. I speak of a novel, not a non-fiction piece because, although what is written is not completely unattainable, it is something that comes with a price many of us don't want to pay.
To live simply, is to live opposite of the mainstream. The best analogy I can think of is the Salmon that swim up the Columbia river each year against the current, in order to lay their eggs. They do this with a blind determination that, in the end, brings success along with a battered worn out body and then finally death. It is a death brought on by exhaustion. Fighting the current continuously takes everything they have. If the Salmon relents even for a moment, it is pushed back in the direction of the river's flow. The same can be said of the world we live in.
I can make the decision to buy only what I need, what is practical, but unfortunately all around me is marketing at its best. It comes in the form of the television, computer, phone, consumer tracking, and even friends and acquaintances. I can resist this marketing, but at a cost. It takes continuous strength of mind and character. If I slip up even for a moment, I am pushed back into the 'must have' frenzy that is all around me.
I can choose to find my happiness in quiet companionship. But, as I am still learning most relationships come with a nice dose of human nature. Everyone, including myself strives for their own way. We can be amicable only for so long, before self rises up and demands its due. Companionship is attainable, but the quiet can only come when both parties are continuously denying themselves. Or, put another way choosing to push against their true natures . We are human and will fail from time to time. Failure often brings its friend, drama, and quiet makes a soundless exit.
Often, I seek to find pleasure in nature. There is nothing more healing than a basic walk through the woods or thrilling than a view that only mother nature could provide. However, even nature has its follies. More times than not, the spectacular views have been purchased and sold to an elite few. Woods have been reduced to clumps of trees surrounding freshly built suburbia, hardly suitable for peaceful strolls. Thankfully, nature can manifest itself in many ways. I can still choose to enjoy things like a warm sunny day or a cozy rainy afternoon. Unfortunately, my moods are rarely in tune with the weather. I usually want rainy when its sunny and vice versa.
"So, it is possible to live simply.", I tell myself, but it is also exhausting. Is that a price I am willing or more importantly able to pay? I don't have an answer, honestly I am afraid of coming up with one. I don't want to stop hoping or believing that I will one day be the Salmon that not only lays her eggs, but lives to tell her story.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Brilliant Observation
My 6 year old son: "Mom! I don't get it? Why do moms do all the work and dads just walk around?"
Me: "Ask your dad and get back to me."
Just a small glimpse into my world. It's moments like this that I live for. I am not sure if this is a compliment, but I have decided to take it as one. My days are filled with one unmomentous task after another, and often I don't think they are noticed. Well, except when I am vacuuming right in front of the television, during an important telecast of 'Jimmy Neutron'. So, when my cantankerous and opinionated little friend throws a statement like this at me, all I can do is smile and think, "I must be doing something right."
Me: "Ask your dad and get back to me."
Just a small glimpse into my world. It's moments like this that I live for. I am not sure if this is a compliment, but I have decided to take it as one. My days are filled with one unmomentous task after another, and often I don't think they are noticed. Well, except when I am vacuuming right in front of the television, during an important telecast of 'Jimmy Neutron'. So, when my cantankerous and opinionated little friend throws a statement like this at me, all I can do is smile and think, "I must be doing something right."
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