Tag: culture

Transition to adulthood(?)

Growing up, brushing my teeth was one of my least favorite things to do in my daily life.

That and showering.

I do not deny that I absolutely loved the feeling after completing either task – rubbing my tongue along my smooth, shiny teeth, or my hands on my soft, smooth skin.

I just merely disliked the whole process of getting to that point of delight.

So, I avoided them both, basically as often as was possible.

I remember specifically, regarding teeth-brushing, how I would sit in my Social Studies class in sixth grade (it was right after lunch), and I would scratch at my teeth with my finger nails, scrubbing them clean that way… and I’m not so sure I had brushed my teeth in the morning in the first place, unfortunately…

I did this in other classes, too, but it was a regular thing that I casually would scratch them clean in that class in particular.

One day, in a casual, lighthearted and playful, yet ever-so-biting comment, one boy (D——) mentioned how I sit there at my desk cleaning my teeth all the time (among other things about me, but that’s the one I remembered).

I was shocked that it had been obvious enough that anyone could tell what specifically I was doing… it always just looked a lot like I was biting or chewing on my nails.

It hadn’t occurred to me that he might have been paying attention to me on purpose, and thereby figured out what I was doing…, but perhaps he was watching me in the first place…

At the time, I just thought I was being obscene with my teeth scratching, and was embarrassed.

I might even have begun improvements to my oral hygiene because of that interaction and comment…, though I don’t remember for sure.

I just know that it has always stuck with me.

I’m not mad at him or anything – far from it.

He definitely wasn’t wrong – I definitely often cleaned my teeth by hand, because I hated the feeling of unclean teeth.

I just probably could have helped my case greatly by using a toothbrush and toothpaste more often in my childhood. 😛

Funnily enough, I still have my days of avoiding brushing my teeth, but I still can’t stand it once I notice the feeling of unclean teeth and I’m not actively eating.

I don’t scratch with my nails anymore, though, because I basically always have toothpaste, floss, and toothbrush with me, wherever I go.

I’ve become somewhat of a fanatic about brushing and flossing my teeth, especially after having to do it all the time with the invisible aligners I had for six months last year… they kind of brought to fruition my desire to have a clean mouth all the time, by forcing me to brush and floss all the time.

Now, it is normal for me to brush and floss after any time I eat, even without the aligners during the day anymore (only a retainer while sleeping, now).

I just so dislike the feeling of dirty teeth…

I sometimes brush my teeth if I know I’ll have to wait even a little while before continuing to eat… I have definitely brushed my teeth between appetizers and dinner on more than one occasion, I just can’t take it. 😛

I also shower every day now, but I hold back from multiple times a day due to a desire not to be wasteful with laundry (which I struggle to wash as often as is reasonable – many swimsuits have served as underwear over the years, you see) or with water, so I arrange my days as best I can not to have to shower more than once on the average day.

I had a panicked phase of showering too much at one point, but am grateful that that has ended, and I can function normally now (meaning I shower daily, but don’t have a compulsion to shower after every time I use the toilet…). 😛

Anyway, my retainers are in and my mouth is delightfully clean, so I’m going to bed now – I’m exhausted!

Post-a-day 2020

Pride and Prejudice and Candor

I am currently rereading Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, as I tend to do about once every year or so.

[If you haven’t read it and you care to, be forewarned that plot ‘spoilers’ ensue.]

Tonight, listening to the audiobook – yes, I count it as reading, though I could argue against it in a way – while I rearranged and tidied my room, mostly folding laundry (one of my biggest struggles in daily life so far, laundry is), I was struck particularly in the section of Mr. Darcy’s proclamation of love and request of Elizabeth’s hand in marriage.

The whole reason things work out in the end is because, in going against all standards of propriety, Eliza speaks openly and honestly of her opinion of Mr. Darcy.

Sure, it is an opinion formed by false and inaccurate information, but these errors could never have been remedied had she not mentioned them so vehemently in their few minutes of true candor with one another – a few minutes which were quite irregular in society at the time.

And then, I thought, a few minutes which are quite irregular in society here, now…

How might things be so drastically different, if we were open and honest with one another as they were in that brief interview?

Would more problems be caused, or would more be solved?

Perhaps, at first, more problems would arise than we would feel we could handle…, but then, with practice, I think we would learn how to live differently, communicate differently, such that an unbelievably high number of problems would be resolved by the new way of interacting with one another with true yet kind candor.

It isn’t that everyone would be running around, insulting everyone else all the time… merely that, when asked, we would speak honestly of our opinions and our thoughts on matters.

Knowing that people would be honest, perhaps some questions would not be asked…, but, knowing that honesty would be given, perhaps more questions would be asked, the asker knowing that no offense need be taken from the answer – it would not be contrived, but merely honest.

It reminds me, too, of how, in the Bis(s) zum book series (a beloved German read of mine), the one group of individuals suddenly obtain the ability (?) to hear one another’s thoughts collectively, always – they cannot avoid sharing a thought, nor avoid hearing a thought of another in the group.

One’s pain is, in a way, experienced by all, and the same with joy and anger and any other experience, as they all hear one another’s thoughts, almost as though the thoughts are their own.

They all care for one another and support one another, and the exposure of the deepest and darkest and most embarrassing of thoughts of any one member, at some point or other, must be accepted by the others, if they are to remain together in life – so long as they live, they will know the thoughts of one another, all of the thoughts.

And they, despite learning these dark and embarrassing thoughts of one another, and of unwillingly exposing their own, eventually draw even closer to one another, their bonds made even deeper by the shared thoughts…

And I find that lovely.

How might the world be different, if we learned to share like this with our loved ones in life… and to love one another knowing these thoughts of one another…?

If we dropped our pride and our prejudice, and listened to the innermost thoughts and fears and wishes and concerns of those around us, and shared our own in return, would we suddenly be able to love more deeply than we had ever imagined possible, live more profoundly than ever we dreamed?

Anyway…, some food for thought, I guess you could say.

(Though I kind of just want some actual food right now…)

Post-a-day 2020

Sunday, fun day

Today had lots of emotions.

And they, for the most part, were experienced, addressed, and released.

I painted lots, and all of it while on the front porch swing, which was utterly lovely.

(Except for the few times the wind disappeared, and it was just miserably warm for about a minute or two until the wind picked up again out of nowhere…. those were not so utterly lovely…)

So, I learned all about which brushes to use for which brush strokes, which was awesome…

I played with flowers…

Super happy with the success of painting today(!), and very glad to have kept with this goal of mine to paint on Sundays. 😀

I then had to stop somewhat abruptly in the middle of number ten, because I felt that it was time to work on a song that suddenly was becoming very clear in my head as I painted.

So, I went inside, got to work, pulled together pieces I had wanted to use but had almost abandoned from a song yesterday and the day before – song got abandoned, but the good words got used today! – and completed the new song, recording it and all.

It helped a lot with some emotions that have been hammering the past few days, and I am grateful for that especially.

Then I rode my bicycle, stopped to listen to some lovely guitar playing and singing in the park, was invited to join the small trio, joined them, and enjoyed company for the first time in a long while… and not just because they are people, but because they are perilla I genuinely liked and enjoyed having around me…, so that was great.

And the music was, too. 🙂 ❤

I love music, and I especially love good music, and I especially especially love good music being played casually right in front of or next to me.

So, it was wonderful.

Then I found a hidden minuscule park one of the trio had mentioned was near my house, and I enjoyed the Live Oak that its heart and only means of existence.

I think I will go back in the daytime to admire and appreciate some more this week.

Now, I go to sleep, exhausted… exhausted… and it’s 2:05zzz…

I am nervous for the governor’s announcement tomorrow.. I want to continue working from home for a while longer… so, I have been nervous to go to sleep tonight…

Alas, I want to sleep now, so I shall sleep.

Goodnight, World… May we have loveliness tomorrow. ❤

Post-a-day 2020

For the love of Vespa

Today was an interesting day for me.

I accomplished so many things – so many check boxes were fulfilled – yet felt so utterly unfulfilled for the day.

I had an amazing little re-bonding experience with the Vespa, as we first rushed to an open bank to handle an online discrepancy before it closed thirty minutes later, and then, when heading home, first took a small detour loop to see one of my childhood favorite spots, and then continued along a road just to see what came next, where it went…

By the time I was out of the main city congestion and buildings blocking the view 45 minutes later, it was clear that the forecast only hours ago was utterly incorrect: the sky was a dark, dark blue, with clouds and rain approaching from what I guessed was the North (I wasn’t entirely sure where I was st this point – the road had just kept on going, and wiggling around all the while).

The pace of the storm was slow, but the rain was definite.

This will hurt, I thought to myself, considering how it would be to be caught in this storm.

I needed to get home as quickly as possible.

So, when I found myself somehow crossing under a convenient highway, I turned off my ever-going road, and headed onto the highway, back to town.

Now, this was our first trip in a month-ish, you see, as I haven’t been going anywhere but to pick up things, which means I use the car every time (and that’s already rare enough as it is).

So, we had a slight struggle to start in the first place, but got it worked out.

With little surprise, after almost an hour of riding – albeit easy riding – and then getting in the highway, the Vespa decided that it needed an immediately rest to re-energize.

I pulled to the shoulder, strategically placing us underneath a set of overpasses, in case we had to wait a long while, and the rain arrived while we were still waiting for the Vespa to regroup.

After a few minutes, though, with a bit of encouragement and coaxing from me, the Vespa was ready to go again, to get us the short remaining distance home.

So, we arrived home safely, took a victory photo together to celebrate our exploratory outing, and then I rushed inside just as the rain began to pour.

As we all say in German, “Perfect timing.”*

Then, I checked off a bunch of boxes, including cooking and eating real food and a real meal, making another gorgeous mala, continuing one book and beginning a yearly-ish reread of another, making and having golden milk, and doing some more henna… while the floor shook from lightning, and the deluge continued off and on outside.

But, the biggest thing I realized, is that I miss having someone care about my life… I felt a clear desire to be heard, and recalled how helpful a journal always has been at such times… a journal is not only always there to listen, it accepts me exactly as I am, and helps me to work through any issue, and celebrate any victory, and allows me to cry all I need, without ever growing impatient with me… a journal is, in many ways, even better than having a person to ask how my day has gone, what I did today, and how I feel about it all…

Yes, I wish someone would hold me close, pet my hair, and murmur sweet nothings to me, as I share about my day as much or as little as I desire…, but journaling and then snuggling up with stuffed animals somehow seems to get me by every time, so I’ll rely on them again tonight… and hope that I will have the real life person option quite soon, surprisingly soon…

So, yeah… thanks for being my journal tonight – the one who always has room for me, and always is ready to hear anything and everything I have to share…

P.S. Do you ever feel like the person you are becoming, while it is true to yourself, does not quite fit with the life you have been leading, pursuing…?

….

*Yes, we use the English phrase, the English words, even though we are otherwise using German to speak… is that not ticklingly delightful?

Post-a-day 2020

Time flies

I just realized that this order expires this coming Thursday… who would have thought I would long to be forced to stay at home?

I have been so delightfully productive with my time, and so emotionally healthy because of it all lately…, I want to keep it up a while longer, I believe.

I have more to accomplish before I am ready to release myself on the normal world again.

At the very least, I suppose I had better get to work on a few specific things already this weekend, then, if I want to be sure they’re handled before outing life begins anew…

Mmhmm…

Post-a-day 2020

Music of the night

I have started another song.

But this one is quite different from the other five so far.

This one…, well, this one has asked me to write it.

I don’t know how else to explain it.

I had asked, “Well, what do I write next?”

I already had an answer: I was going to continue along the same mental path that four of my songs had been following already – the silly path of almost love-life that I recently had.

But then, just before bed one night, before I had begun in my next song, a bought came to me… it was not particularly comfortable or desirable, so I allowed it to be merely a thought among many, and I let it go.

The next night, the thought returned, but it brought a couple or few phrases with it… They were so strong that, thought I had let them all go, when they kept coming back over and over again as I tucked myself into bed, I got back out of bed, and I wrote them down.

There, I seemed to say, Now you can let go of this idea, and move on to other things.

But it kept pressing the next day, when more lines came to mind.

I loyally added them to the page.

Then things happened… things that connected to this song idea, but that had happened on their own, from outside sources… a phone call from a friend, and something mentioned in that conversation… and action from me that seemed to have no spark of origin, but that, in a way, connected deeply with the topic of this song… and then, as I went to add another line that was pressing my brain, an unexpected phone call received, and, somehow, the exact topic brought up…

I am not scared, exactly… there just is likely to be little room for error on this song… and there will be lots of room for judgment… on this song, I am not only writing to share music, but to make a difference for others by sharing… I do not want other people’s potential resulting opinions of me to dissuade me from doing a spectacular job of that.

Yes, I want this to be inspiring and relieving for those who need it most.

For those who do not need it, I want it to help them to think twice about those in their life who just might be needing it right now, or who might have needed it st some point, but who did not get it then.

Yeah… I think that’s it… that’s the goal of this song.

And it feels heavy…

God, help me carry this weight – I want to carry it to its next stop, and hand it off.

Post-a-day 2020

Cookies, anyone?

Look, I know people love cookies.

I do.

But I almost always prefer the batter to the cookies themselves.

Seriously.

One of my favorite treats in life growing up (aside from certain breads 😂) was taking a spoon (or fork!) to the roll of Pillsbury chocolate chip cookie dough… mmmmmmmm…

Slicing the end off with a serrated knife, sucking out the bit from the end piece, and then having at the rest.

Not even joking here… we would stand in the kitchen at night, sharing from the roll, my siblings and I.

Oh, it was just so good… I have no words for it…

Haha

It may or may not be something I have been known to do in my adult life… on more than one occasion…

(Okay, like three times, so don’t get all crazy on me about the raw eggs – the gluten and sugar in it hurt me more than the eggs ever have or likely ever will.)

And no, I didn’t even bother to bake cookies, whenever I get the roll.

(Not for myself, anyway, but I might have baked them and just given them away, because nobody needs that much cookie dough.) 😂

So, yeah… I was supposed to have some on my birthday, actually…, but it didn’t work out with timing, and I am rather strict about following my dietary guidelines and rules, and the allowance is only on two specific days a month, and I don’t want to waste the cookie dough on just any old day… I want it to be a celebration, so I can bask in it, and also share in delight with those around me, who also are celebrating somehow…

Perhaps we can do a Christmas in July celebration, and include it then… hmm…

Or else, I’ll just wait another ten months for my birthday to come around again… :/

Yeah, anyway…

Cookie dough is delicious, so long as it is in small quantities and not some crap recipe, anyway… 😂

Post-a-day 2020

So, pain…

What is it about pain that, when given to us, we so terribly want to give it back?

It is like when we purchase something from the store, but then we discover, upon arriving home, that it is actually spoilt… we take it back to the shop, saying, “Pardon me, but this is utter rubbish, and I want to return it, thanks.”

Except, at the shop, they’re likely to accept the return…

With pain, we do not do well receiving the dish without a strong desire to dish it back – perhaps not immediately, but, eventually, we always seem to want to throw it back into the server’s face: How dare you serve me such poison?!

Is it something about our experience of being so terribly unloved, that we feel we must somehow prove that we are worthy of being loved…?

Or that we are so afraid of being hurt even more, that we feel a need to put a hard shell forward and attack, showing strength that we hardly have… all just to cover up our degree of pain…?

Are we afraid to acknowledge what we might have done to be not true to our highest selves, such that someone was even able to cause us pain in the first place…, and so we avoid looking inward, and throw it all outward and back to its source instead…?

Are we embarrassed that we weren’t enough of something… to have the pain to have been avoided…?

Is it that we feel we are worth so much more than being treated as we were, but we don’t know how to show it…?

Do we really want someone else to experience the suffering we experience in life?

Plus, if we all seem to want to return pain for pain, would not the person who inflicted the pain on us in the first place have received his or her own dish of pain from somewhere else beforehand, thereby propelling him or her forward to continue the pain?

When we are angry at someone, it can seem impossible to ‘turn the other cheek’, as we were all told growing up…, to offer up yet another place for the person to inflict pain on us…

But, what if we consider someone we love dearly, perhaps more than we love ourselves…?

What if this person were hurting us…, and what if we knew this person’s extreme suffering that induced the outward actions of hurting us…?

In such a situation, I believe it would be somewhat easy to offer my other check… Go on, hit me – I know you need to do that right now…, and I am here for you, however you may need.

In Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, the monster says that his outward evil actions are the result of his intense suffering.

“I am malicious because I am miserable.”

My heart ached for the poor creature, as he told his tale of woe, and how humans had been so dreadful to him, simply because they were afraid of him, and how they gave him no chance… they gave him no love of any kind…

What could happen if we approached all of our own pains inflicted from the outside in this way?

Would we no longer be longing to throw it back at the giver, but, instead, be aching to help ease the giver’s intense wounds of the heart that had him or her do us harm in the first place?

When I think of my own desire to cause pain to those who have hurt me, it is intense pain that propels the desire… how must people be suffering, if they are dishing out pain so freely and actively?

How lonely they might be…

Funny… (and by funny, I mean something else, of course) I suddenly find myself wanting to go hold and hug and comfort the person who last hurt me, to apologize… for what?… for my desire to make him suffer…, for any role I played – that I believe I played – in hurting him some already, though very differently than I was hurt…, for every thought of ill will I have had toward him…, for all the pain he must be in to have hurt me as he did… and I want him to experience being loved truly and cared for, to experience that he is not only worth it, but absolutely enough just as he is…

Yes.

Wow.

And then, another comes to mind… I am not by any means at a point of actually wanting to do this myself, but I can see how much that person must have been lacking in love – how miserable that person must be, in some level within, whether aware of it or not – in order to cause such misery to others, to me… it is almost heartbreaking…

Just, wow…

Okay.

I think I have found my new mentality to practice in life right now… how to offer up my whole self and never be hurt, by bringing love to the table… patience and pure, true, and free love.

Like free hugs… only better.

Like Michael Jackson’s constant serenade to me as a child, we can heal the world, make it a better place for you and for me and the entire human race…

I’ll start with my little corner, and see what happens… hopefully, we light the world on fire with this love, it will be so profound, so powerful… so true.

Post-a-day 2020

Don’t do it

You know, I swear, alcohol makes me stupid.

I was fine…. fine…, but then l, give me one single, not very strong margarita, and I suddenly lose all powers of sanity.

I had been doing very well focusing mentally on unflattering photos of this guy, and combining them with the fact that he doesn’t check in on me anymore, and it was becoming easier and easier to let go of the idea of him… rather, to let go of him, and just to have fun with the idea he had inspired within me…, because the idea is still there, but I have somewhat run away with it, knowing that it is likely to be only an idea…, so I have been having fun with the idea, since I can’t have fun with him.

Anyway, he finally wasn’t taking up 90% of my conscious thoughts anymore… perhaps it was down to about 30%, and they didn’t affect me near so much as they had before.

I thought I was actually letting go of him, and that I was okay with it.

Then, with some alcohol in my system, what do I do?

Suddenly start thinking about him, wondering how he is doing, knowing I have been working actively to stay out of it, yet fully aware that I still want to know…, and so I send him a message to check in…, because I really do want to know.

And then, later on, after, of course, no reply – as was expected – my thoughts are stuck around him all over again… and I find myself miserable and on the point of tears because of how much I really wanted this whole thing to work out for us.

That, and I really just want a long hug from someone who loves me…or maybe just to be held and petted for a few hours… much like how my friend’s cat snuggles with me whenever I am over there, no shame in wanting to be intertwined with me, while lying on top of me, and demanding rubbing, too…

Yeah…

Anyway, to sum up, alcohol made me feel stupid tonight, but it also made me realize that I was more avoiding my emotions than actually handling them… I’m not sure at present how to proceed, but I’ll just let myself sit in this for now, and see how tomorrow feels when I get there.

Post-a-day 2020

Sing to me

Working on another song today – some acquaintances in a digital happy hour check-in Wednesday night told me to go ahead and just make a whole album about my feelings right now, because plenty of artists have done just that, and, did I know that Gwen Stefani did that with the one album she wrote about her bass player, and then they went on tour with the album but she was already with someone else? – I was embracing the tweeting birds and the sunlight outside, by spending the afternoon on the front porch swing, guitar at my side.

I eventually had what felt like a solid foundation for a song – it just needed some touch-ups, and perhaps a line-change or two – and I was playing and singing through the whole of it to see how I felt about it, see what stood out as lacking or needing to change, etc.

Partway through, I sensed something, and looked up to see someone standing at the bottom of the porch steps, leaning around the bushes (which block most of the porch from being seen from the sidewalk) somewhat to see me.

I stopped immediately, yet calmly, and greeted the person kindly.

I noticed that he was shirtless and potentially thin – bushes made it hard to tell if he was just slim or actually lacking in nutrition.

“Can I help you?” I offer.

It then turns out that, no, he is not homeless, but had been exercising at one of the nearby parks, and was heading home to where he lived nearby.

He had heard what he thought was the radio, but then he couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.

Eventually, he realized that it was live music – someone was playing guitar and singing somewhere very nearby.

When he figured out where, he just had to come closer to listen.

He then used various phrases to say that he wanted me to sing and play for him now, even though I already had been singing, and still would be singing, if he hadn’t creeped up to my porch…

Now, I totally did a version of this while on my bicycle ride Wednesday evening, so I am careful with judgement here, however, I didn’t go up to the person’s porch and freak him out – I pulled over across the street and listened to the music coming from a second-floor window.

Anyway, I let it go, since he isn’t coming across as dangerous at present, and I allow him to talk.

I answer a question he asks about what I had just been singing/playing, and then sit, with very few phrases leaving my mouth, for probably the next ten or fifteen minutes, listening to this guy going on and on about things.

Sure, it was interesting the first time you mentioned about your mom encouraging you to do country western music, instead of hip hop or rap, like you had always imagined, and I think it is great to let stereotypes be blown away at times, but did you have to tell me all of that at least three times each?

And please, stop trying to sound philosophical – pet peeve here – when you really aren’t… you actually have some great points of philosophy, but you don’t even seem to notice it, and, instead, BS elsewhere, and end up sounding somewhat stupid (which, you clearly aren’t so bad off, due to the real points, but you are really not helping yourself here).

Also, it really feels like you’re working hard to flirt with me… did you not listen to the very first things that came out of my mouth, about how the song I was just singing is based on the idea of how I miss a guy and want to be where he is, instead of here??

I would have thought that an obvious sign of my likely disinterest in any other guys, which would include you…

At least he put his shirt back on early on in the conversation(?)… interaction.

I’m being snarky, I know… I thought it was sweet, but also a bit annoying that it kept going on for so long, especially when I had just been so focused and excited about where I had just reached with the song.

I kept reminding myself to let it go, and to allow this interaction to happen – perhaps one of us needs it more than the other.

And he ended up singing to me from two country western songs he likes to sing.

He definitely has the timber of country western music down, and so I can see why his mother would have encouraged such an endeavor.

I told him so, too, and encouraged it myself, allowing him the idea of pursuing it, only should that be what he wants and feels called to do.

And then he talked a while longer, and I knew I was done… bugs were starting to show up, and I was committed to finishing this song and getting a recording before I went back indoors.

So, I kindly told him that I was getting back to work, and that I wanted to do that on my own, and I wished him home safely and wished him well…, and, of course, I was prepared to tell him that I wanted him to leave, if it weren’t already clear to him from the somewhat direct words (since he had already missed the opportunity before, when I had said I wanted to get back to work, but allowed him to stay if he wished [I really didn’t mind that part, but minded when he started talking to me again, just because I had stopped playing for a minute, which had been to work out some lyrics]).

And so, I got back to work on the song, finally, forgot to fix the beginning, and recorded it all, anyway.

I got a great version recorded, but lawn guys started mowing across the street right in the middle of the recording… I kept going, just in case, but I mostly knew it wouldn’t work.

I hoped for the best, but it didn’t work out as a good recording, so I had merely been wasting my finger strength for the day, unfortunately.

Finally, after a few mess-ups, I got a recording that was mostly accurate and good, and, since my fingers were already struggling during that recording, I knew it was the last play for the day…, so, I let it be.

Perhaps I’ll do the changes to the first line, if and when I do a real recording for an album…. for now, though, I am okay being satisfied and done with this song for a while.

And I do like it… I just wish I had caught it about the first line before I ran out of finger strength.

Oh, well… everything turns out perfectly somehow, so there’s clearly something perfect pushing all of this into place today. 😛

Fingers crossed for that perfection to show up sooner, rather than later. 😉

Post-a-day 2020