So here I am. Putting pen to paper. Good ol' follow through triumphant once again. A vow taken and acted upon, even if just for a few moments. Daily writing as practice, stretching the creative and observant muscle. Never knowing what to expect when I show up for one of these things. My mind usually has a game plan set. An outline, if you will, of the narrations it comes up with when observing my life. Aahhh, my own personal play by play of comments, unsolicited advise, and interpretations. The mind has been practicing how to share my recent experiences.
However, when it's time to spill the ink something else takes over. Flow perhaps. I try to keep my perspective real, not contrived by drama prone chatty Cathy in my head. So I sit, poised and ready, warming up my hand and opening my mind to whatever it is that wants to come out.
I showed up for my job, now I'm waiting for creativity. Or was it inspiration? I forget which one made the appointment with me last night in bed. They didn't leave a card, just a request for action.
Action. That's a good coping skill. I've been thinking a lot about coping for what feels like nonstop. Coping skills. It's a strength that I recognize is not widely taught between families, particularly in those that never learned positive ones. I notice it everywhere, in almost everyone. Avoidance. Blame. Transference. Life sucks sometimes, that will never change, but how you deal with it makes all the difference in one's happiness.
I had to pause there for a few minutes because I felt the beginning of a depressing rant slide, and I don't feel like going into the darkness right now.
What I feel is if we all could learn to have a more optimistic outlook, realize the impermanence of everything, and be more pro-active in the construction of our lives, then the human race will be more prepared to exist without hurting each other, or themselves. It's okay to ask for help. You are not an island. And if you are an island then find yourself a boat maker so they can bring plenty of others to make you the best island you can be. The need for teachers does not end when we leave the confines of classrooms. It is our duty as people to continue learning. It never stops. Learn how to live in love and you will live in peace.
"There is no way to happiness, happiness is the way." - Buddha
Friday, August 13, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Free and Equal Socks
I wear mismatched socks.
It began two years ago, this October, under very intentional conditions. I began wondering to myself one day why I, personally, wear matching socks all the time. Do I do it because that's the way it is, or because they come paired already and it's convenient? But what if you lose one, or one wears a little quicker than the other. Now you have an orphan on your hands and instead of dealing with the emotions of an orphaned sock we throw it out in the trash. We punish good socks for being more resilient than it's partner. Shame. And somewhat wasteful if you ask me.
So I decided that I will not let society dictate how I protect my feet from abrasive surfaces and temperature. I freed my socks that day in October. They were allowed to live as one community, existing as equal foot wear. Little did I know that this simple act of consciously matching ones socks would lead to a small pleasure that only I share.
Naturally, as time progressed I governed that box of socks and created criteria and personal preference in the expression of cotton protection. There is now a system in place that is efficient and fool proof. Mismatched, but similar because I want them to be, not because that's what everyone else is doing. I hate to admit that in the beginning of administration much time was spent deciding that day's pairing. I think I was late to work once because I was having difficulty deciding which two to put together.
I know I'm not alone in this. I know several other people that choose to don mismatched socks, for their individual reasons of course. But I am aware of it, and I still like to play a little.
It began two years ago, this October, under very intentional conditions. I began wondering to myself one day why I, personally, wear matching socks all the time. Do I do it because that's the way it is, or because they come paired already and it's convenient? But what if you lose one, or one wears a little quicker than the other. Now you have an orphan on your hands and instead of dealing with the emotions of an orphaned sock we throw it out in the trash. We punish good socks for being more resilient than it's partner. Shame. And somewhat wasteful if you ask me.
So I decided that I will not let society dictate how I protect my feet from abrasive surfaces and temperature. I freed my socks that day in October. They were allowed to live as one community, existing as equal foot wear. Little did I know that this simple act of consciously matching ones socks would lead to a small pleasure that only I share.
Naturally, as time progressed I governed that box of socks and created criteria and personal preference in the expression of cotton protection. There is now a system in place that is efficient and fool proof. Mismatched, but similar because I want them to be, not because that's what everyone else is doing. I hate to admit that in the beginning of administration much time was spent deciding that day's pairing. I think I was late to work once because I was having difficulty deciding which two to put together.
I know I'm not alone in this. I know several other people that choose to don mismatched socks, for their individual reasons of course. But I am aware of it, and I still like to play a little.
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