Eye See You

How often in life do you consider length of eye contact?

It comes up somewhat often for me.

When I was little, my dad usually would ask me, just after our leaving a conversation with someone who had just been introduced to me, what color the person’s eyes were.

We both knew that it was his way of getting me to look the person in the eyes when meeting him or her, and we both actually enjoyed the fun little game that had become of the goal.

It was partly a distraction from what the person was saying, because I was focusing on noting and remembering the person’s eye color, but it had me be conscious of my eye contact, and encouraged me well to increase the amount.

As an adult, I now occasionally have what feel like eye contests with people, usually men, where we seem to be aiming to stare into the depths of one another’s soul, because we neither of us have the tendency to look away upon making eye contact.

In all the movies, it is the love scene, where the two lovers first make eye contact, and it is undeniably clear that they are meant to be together.

In my life, it mostly just has a message of good manners on both sides… I know, totally lame in comparison… but real life can be at times, especially without the specifically designed soundtrack and close-ups to go with it.

Anyway, when these – now, I don’t want to call them staring matches, because it isn’t like staring, but it isn’t quite a soul-searching look either… let’s go with gaze sessions – gaze sessions happen, I inevitably get the impression that the other person has a vested interested in what I am saying, and, therefore, in me, too.

And it is odd at times to understand that this young and happy and beautifully in-love, engaged man is uninterested in me in a romantic sense, despite the fact that it is always totally easy to understand quite well, because his interest in and attention to what I have to share is so strongly pronounced by his continued eye contact.

I usually have no thought of looking away from eye contact, because the other person present looks away long before I might consider it.

But, with these guys, neither of us is used to looking away before the other person does, and so we end up in this love-scene-like gaze session with one another, unsure what to do, and even unsure as to what we want to do – we’ve never had to consider looking away, because the other person always does, so we don’t even know if we, ourselves, want to look away.

And so, I always end up considering afterward how I want that kind of interest and invested attention from someone to partner with me in life… while these gaze sessions are not filled with romantic love but human love, I want ones with my future partner to be the same kind of expression, but with the romantic love present, too.

And then I consider how I might be making other people feel.

Sure, the gaze sharers are probably in a similar boat with me, realizing that I, like they do, look into people’s eyes when they talk with me, and they therefore think little else of it.

However, the people who are always looking away first, what are they always thinking about my eye contact?

Do I intimidate them?… Falsely occur as interested in dating them?… Freak them out?…etc.

And then, after several minutes of dwelling in the whole conversation, inevitably going onto weird tangents, I shake it all off (quite literally), and move on with my day/night and life.

Perhaps I’ll talk with someone about it, and if I bother people with my eye contact…, but it is unlikely that I would be willing to change it simply because people are scared to make eye contact, so I’m not in any rush.

Anyway… a final note: I love having these gaze sessions… whether the person has the vested interest in me or not, the romantic interest or not, matters not to me… what matters is that it feels like they love me on some level of humanity, and that is a wonderful feeling.


Post-a-day 2019

Some days

Some days, you want to go back to sleep, but you get up and go anyway, and you end up meeting just the right people (and rather unexpectedly).

And then, you want to nap, but you don’t, and you meet just the right people and you serve your community wonderfully in a much-needed way that no one else had been able to manage.

And then, you want to go to bed super early, but you don’t, because you’ve met just the right people.

And you discover that this mantra and meditation class is exactly where you needed to be, and things had to go this way today, in order for you to end up here as you did, being where you needed to be.

And you are still totally exhausted as you stumble up to bed, but you feel great through and through, because, all-in-all, it was a great day.

Yeah… some days…

Or maybe that’s just the case for me…


Post-a-day 2019

Southern work

I have worked in private Catholic schools, and so prayer and Bible verses aren’t entirely uncommon here and there slash every morning.

However, any work that I have had outside of these private schools usually has little to do with religion or God.

Sometimes, a prayer or invocation will happen at some event or other, because, well, this is Texas – there is a certain wholesome Christian-ness toy the culture, and so prayer before their performances was entirely normal and acceptable for the theatre kids at my cousins’ public high school in small-town Texas.

Houston is a whole ‘nother story – big city here means a certain amount of he open Christianity is lost – we have people from all over the world living here, and I’m not so sure Christianity has the majority hold here, even.

Therefore, it is uncommon for me to have strongly open Christianity show up at work here – leave Houston and enter smaller towns, and it absolutely is the norm… but not here.

And so, it was extremely odd for me to have the Bible quotes to me as part of my internship training the other day.

Yes, it was totally relevant to what I was being taught, (the quote, I mean), but the assumed foundation of Christianity was never discussed and was somewhat irrelevant to the topic of discussion at the time.

However, it reminded me that, well, I am in Texas and I am in the South, and I’m working with someone who is not Houston…, so of course Christianity is the standard foundation for anyone around – being not-Christian is rather abnormal and extremely uncommon.

And something about it was beautiful to me – no one was aiming to convert or preach or anything like that at all… it was merely a matter of, ‘Well, it is our task, given even by God, to do this and that, so it brings everything full-circle,’ having it make even more sense that we would do something a specific way in this job I’m learning (which, recall, is not a job about religion, but about caring for animals).

In any city-like job, I think I would have been uneasy about the comment, concerned that it was a radical Christian trying to convert me from my sinful ways without even getting to know almost anything about me, let alone the fact that I am Catholic – yes, we have these radicals here from time to time, too – but in the somewhat countryside, working with horses, it was utterly normal and acceptable, and it even surprised me that I wasn’t expecting it.

I guess I was thinking more about how this is a ‘work situation’, which I relate to big city, as opposed to that it is a ‘country work situation’.

Because if I had put in the word ‘country’, I’d have been ready and waiting for all sorts of Bible and God tidbits to show up – countryside in the south equals God-fearing and God-loving brings who are grateful for the gifts that God has granted them in their lives… for men, it means Christian cowboys through and through.

Traditionally, anyway… I guess we’ll just have to see how things go for the future of our Southern countryside, but I do kind of like it – the kindness and love that is always there really is wonderful.

Anyway, that’s all I have to say about that right now.

Goodnight! ๐Ÿ™‚

Post-a-day 2019

โ€™Sโ€™wonderful (!)

Starlight, start bright

All you stars I don’t see tonight,

Take this wish I wish tonight –

I wish I may, I wish I might…

Have another day tomorrow that is as wonderful (or more) as today has been.

Thank you for the love, Universe, etc.

I might not be at par on the whole adulting thing, but I’m delighted with where I am on the whole pursuing passions and being self-expressed ones. (!!!)


P.S. A selfie with the tubby guy at my internship

Post-a-day 2019

Aaaaahhhh, those blasted housemates!

Well, they’ve done it alright… the raccoons have overstayed their welcome.

It is official now that my poor bathroom, the place I must go in my home and cannot avoid, has fleas(!!!).

The raccoons have been living in the wall there the past couple weeks or so, and they seem to have brought fleas with them… the vent in the ceiling seems to be the culprit for how they’re getting into the actual bathroom from the walls.

Naturally, I despise it – nearly a year ago, I had a dreadful encounter with fleas while housesitting in this very street… any attempt at a repeat is to be obliterated, thank you very much.

And so, I suffer ever so slightly more tonight, acutely aware of the surprisingly marge number of freckles I have on my lower legs, ankles, and feet – indeed, I had no idea how many freckles I actually have down there (on my legs, of course, I mean).

I have covered my ankles and shins/calves with some essential oils I read about quickly online just now, ones that seem to be flea repellant and flea life-enders, and I have placed two bowls in the bathroom with soapy water and lit tea light candles… we shall see what the morning brings, but I have already dropped two or three in the bowls since I set them down just a short bit ago…

And yes, I am aware that that is not quite how the bowls and candles work, but, when they attack my ankles just because I’ve entered the room, I’m not apt to let them hang around on me…, and so I pinch and drop them directly into the soapy water of their future.

Ugh… you darned raccoons – I allow you a place to stay while you raise your babies, and you bring in this rubbish… how unkind of a houseguest this is.

Now, here I am in my room, panicking at every hair twinge and bit of air that brushes any part of my legs, worried at what it might be… I struggled falling back asleep this morning after I got the (I think) flea bite (hopefully) in the bathroom… I now worry at my being able to fall asleep at all tonight, or at least to sleep well and awake rested in the morning.

It seems sadly unlikely… :/

Darn raccoons… and, of course, fleas(!).

Post-a-day 2019

… And so I did

Today, I accomplished money-earning work that helps others, I learned something, I trusted my instincts, I interacted with and chatted with smart, kind people, I did someone a big favor, I completed one of the assignments from school (the one I had most nearly despised), I ate quite decent food (and twice!) for myself, I talked with my cousin about useful things for the both of us, I patted and got licked by a dog, and I got licked and leaned against a bunch as I learned about and helped care for and rode horses (which included detangling a bunch of hair).

Then, while showering and running my fingers through my own hair to detangle it, I felt something strangely similar to the feeling of the horse’s hair – recall that my hair is dirty blonde and just about as opposite in texture from horse hair as is possible – and eventually discovered that the slightly knitted area felt similar due to the fact that it had hay in it. ๐Ÿ˜›

Totally chuckled at that, if only on the inside of me. ๐Ÿ˜‰

I did many things today, and they all contributed to my day being beautiful for my life, and even extremely helpful for my struggle-filled mood of the past couple weeks… I don’t want to do lame work, but I can always find something interesting within it, once I get started on it.

And so, as I suspected, getting going was what I needed most to get on track with things – resisting, evading, and avoiding, as I already knew, were definitely not the beneficial path for me. ๐Ÿ˜›

So now, preparing for bed, I’m not even attempting to turn on a film or anything, despite the fact that I needn’t actually be up until around 1pm tomorrow, because I am exhausted in a good way and I feel good, and so I want to go ahead and read and sleep.

Super signs of a good day, a day well spent. โค

Post-a-day 2019

It is time, my dear, to do something

Sometimes, when I begin to see all the things I could be, all the things I could do, I start to wonder why on Earth I’m sitting sadly where I am – there’s so much more inspiring than being bummed a good chunk of the time about not knowing what to pursue.

Just look for little things that inspire me, and go after them with all I’ve got – that in and of itself is guaranteed to spread a good amount of love and joy and fulfillment in my life… wallowing off and on only detracts from anything good, anyway, and helps nothing.

So, stop doing the wallow-ensuing activities, already, would you, Hannah?

And, if you don’t like something, figure out when it is worth finishing up, and make that happen, so you can move forward with the things you do like and love, and at which you naturally thrive – life wants the greatest from you, not the measly minimum.

It’s okay to be unhappy – it’s not okay to leave everything as-is when you are unhappy.

Just evaluate and then do something about it all that will be the positive difference you need. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Post-a-day 2019

How You doinโ€™?

How am I doing, she asks?

Iโ€™m doing okay, I think. Dealing with a school mental struggle of being tired of it and not wanting to do semi-pointless work (i.e. work that serves no value whatsoever in why I am getting the degree). I got sick, too, and so that aligned interestingly perfectly with the assignments, and so they are excused from being late. I still donโ€™t want to do them, though. Life has become so interesting outside of school recently, it makes me want to take a big break from school, possibly permanently. But mostly because โ€˜I donโ€™t Feel like it(!)โ€™, and Iโ€™m not sure if it really has anything else behind it. Laziness might just be all there is in the matter, ultimately. :/

That’s the just bulk of my daylight hours… evenings and nights are a whole ‘nother conundrum these days. ๐Ÿ˜›

How are you doing?

Post-a-day 2019

Beer run?

‘Okay, I’m stopping at the grocer on my way out there.’

‘Oh, since you’re stopping at the grocer, will you pick up some (hard) cider for me?’

He then gives me the details of his preferences on cidre, and we settle a plan…

“Haha…,” he continues, a bit nerdily and excited, “I’ve never had my little sister buy me alcohol before.”

We both had a dorky chuckle at this idea, mostly because we knew how the rest of our family had been growing up, as well as how unlike them I had been, simply uninterested in alcohol, let alone getting someone to buy any for me.


Separately, when actually at the store, two girls who work there were telling me about the cidres sold, and kept suggesting I get a ‘sneaky’ one, so that I could ‘get him drunk’, and they kept chuckling at how their boyfriends are always surprised with sweet drinks that have high alcoholic content and leave them drunk, when they had thought they were totally fine… I didn’t entirely disapprove, since it’s people who matter to the girls, but I wasn’t exactly a proponent of the behavior in the first place…

When they remembered that I had said “for my brother”, their tunes changed and they gave me genuine flavor information on the different cidres, instead of just talking about getting something sweet. ๐Ÿ˜›

The irony of it all was how I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d purchased alcohol, let alone purchased any for my own consumption (not that these were for me, of course), and it felt extra-silly carrying out the cidres… I felt so totally out of place, not unlike an underaged kid sister trying to sneak alcohol for her brother’s party…

My extra consolation was in the fact that he really doesn’t drink much in the first place either, but wanted some drinks because he is on vacation (and even then only a few, because there’s an intense CrossFit class awaiting him in the morning). ๐Ÿ˜›

Post-a-day 2019

Lost in the story

Do you ever find yourself so engrossed in, so invested in, so infatuated and obsessed with the fairy tale story that you choose it over your real life, the book or the movie or show instead of living the lovely parts of your own real life?

I think I sometimes grow scared of my life becoming a letdown, such that I cling to something else – another story, that is, and usually a created one – for a while instead, and dream about and long for that life, or something like it, for myself…

I unrealistically throw as much possible time as I can into reading the book further, and reading further into the series, if it is one, changing and informing planing and intended activities just so I can spend more time in the world of the book…

Until, that is, I reach the point that I notice the new infatuation interfering too much with real life – when I typically would be delighted at the prospect of spending the day with my brother, and doing photos and sports, nonetheless, but find myself longing instead to stay home alone to continue this new story in which I have mentally thrown myself.

You see, I don’t want to be like Kathleen Kelly in the first half of “You’ve Got Mail”, where she feels like all of her best life moments have been ones read in books… I want mine to be real, more like Kathleen Kelly at the end of the film…

And so, that point is when I acknowledge fully that my interest is bordering on scary, and that I would do best to look at what is behind it all – Why do I long for this other story so?

Do I want their money or love or friends or lifestyle or passion or any number of other things?

Usually, that is it exactly, and, by my acknowledging that, I can find a way to move forward powerfully within my own life, altering something that helps me in the area I found most lacking and which had drawn me so strongly and painfully to the created story…

Say I love their looks and their love story.

Then, I resolve to have my own love story…, and, seeing as how I was rather bummed the other day at the consideration of my search being at its end, I acknowledge that I perhaps do not want the love of my life to be settled yet… and so would prefer not to have Matthew Crawley become the love of my life after all, but would rather wait for the actual real and perfect man for me (because who wants to live in the age of corsets anyhow?)…

Just as an example… ๐Ÿ˜›

Post-a-day 2019