Questions: #45, #49, #50

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

I am on vacation right now, and I decided, after fretting and dwelling about how this remains unfinished, that it's time to close the loop.  I will be honest - I haven't really thought about the answers to these questions, and so, I write the answers tonight.

For some reason, I accidentally skipped #45;  I will start with the answer to that one.

Question #45: If we learn from our mistakes, why are we always so afraid to make a mistake?

I think about this one all the time, even before this blog series started.  I don't think we can pin this down into one clean or clear answer. There are layers upon layers of reasons, and I imagine individuals and families will have none, some, or all of these --- or maybe many I didn't even think about.  I can't tackle all the reasons, but I'll tackle why this is the case for me.

The first reason I am so scared to make a mistake is because I have some sort of ego-maniacal vision of myself centered around the idea that I'm "better".  It's not that I'm better than other people, not of you, not of my friends or my family - but better than myself.  I am better than mistakes.

The second reason I am so scared to make a mistake is because mistakes often require fixing - and fixing often requires me to ask for help.  We're all intimately aware that asking people for help, especially from people who matter to me, is something I can't stand doing.  To do so means I must admit I'm not enough - smart enough, fast enough, smooth enough, detailed enough - to do something on my own.

And the third reason I am so scared to make a mistake is because mistakes often hurt people.  Happy accidents like pink and blond hair, or picking two unmatching socks are ok, but those aren't the mistakes I'm afraid of.  Instead it's big things like insensitive behavior, getting caught up in a moment inappropriately, picking the wrong boyfriend, or keeping secrets from someone I care about - those are all things I'm so exceptionally afraid of.

The third reason is the worst of all, and no matter how much I try, I realize that I will find myself inadvertently (or sometimes intentionally, though I hate to admit that) hurting the people I love so deeply for the rest of my life.  All I can hope is that I continue to consider their perspectives, and find a way to genuinely ask for forgiveness when it happens.

Question #49: In five years from now, will you remember what you did yesterday?  What about the day before that?  Or the day before that?

I will remember some days in 2013 in five years from now.  I'll remember Feb 26, my ACL surgery date, and all the subsequent help and love I received from friends, family, and Pepper.  I'll remember my mom's 60th birthday, and how all of my siblings came together as one cohesive unit to show her how much we love her.  I'll remember BeachBoy, who I met on my girls weekend - the guy who rocked my world and asked me some tough questions I never got to answer for him.  Though we are not in contact, that will remain a huge part of me, part of this blog series, part of these decisions I've made, and part of my history I can't possible forget.   I'll remember the time I went camping with TF and TresPageJr, and the other time TF and I went to my home at the base of the mountain to see a DP show. I know I'll remember the time I took my Unlikely Friend to the beach for her birthday (and WonderPup tried to eat someone!), and I'll certainly remember when the WonderPup was bitten by a foster.  And I'll remember another day in 2013, a day I met a fun and funny man, nicknamed forever more as Eros, at a little pub in Trolley Square.  What happens with that, who knows, but I think, for so many reasons, I'll remember that night in five years.  Maybe even ten.

But day in and day out stuff?  No, I won't remember it, and it won't matter.  Still, when I look back at this year, some pretty significant things happened.  Some things sucked hard, and some things were amazing - but much of it is noteworthy, even in the future.

Question #50: Decisions are being made right now.  The question is: are you making them for yourself, or are you letting others make them for you?

I let a lot of decisions get made for me this year - some at work, and some at home.  And then, I made a lot of decisions that were hard, scary, or just plain unfun.  Sometimes it's appropriate to decide to let people make your decisions, and other times it's not.  I want to believe I'm a good mix of both, and when it's time to make decisions that matter deeply to me, I will have to courage and support to do that.

---------------------

This wraps up the series.  I learned an awful lot in the process, even with my long hiatus.  I appreciate everyone's patience, support, and kinds words as I've written these crazy post, and hope that you have considered the answers to some of these questions for yourself.

Although this started as a random exercise, I found that it evolved into a self discovery about not just this year, but previous years of my life - it helped me think through my most tragic mistakes, the people and places that are important to me, and what types of things matter to me about my life.  Sharing that journey with you all has been a test of two years in therapy, a chance to share with you, to give you parts of myself that I have not shared before, and it's awfully fitting to wrap this up just 25 hours before 2014 begins.

Cheers, my friends.  Cheers!

Questions: the end

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

I know. I need finished the series. This post is to let everyone know (and remind myself!) that I need to and will complete it.

And on the heels of that, perhaps I ought to answer another question of my own:

Why do I start things and then stop them just before they are completed? Hmmm.

Questions: #48

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #48: What do you love? Have any of your recent actions openly expressed this love?

I love my family, my friends, and my dogs. I love art and music, including my own original playart. I love to cook and one of the most important ways to show people I love them is to cook something for them. And I love to write.

I don't spend all day, every moment or hour, doing something that demonstrates my love. But I do an awful lot of things.

Just recently, I sent something to my little sister that I wrote. I write the answers to the questions in this blog every day.

I spend time with my girls, Houdini and WonderPup, who bring me so much joy everyday. And I am starting to outwardly show my love of the arts, music, performance --- as evidenced right now while I'm writing at intermission during Evil Dead.

It's a good thing when you can think of so many examples of things you love, and ways you show it.

Questions: #47

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #47: When was the last time you noticed the sound of your own breathing?
The only time I am very aware is when I am swimming. Actually it's one of the reasons swimming is my exercise of choice. Being that connected to my body, timing the rhythm of my stroke with the turn of my head, breathing out the bubbles in a controlled exhale---it makes me feel like I have control over the parts of my body that keep me alive.

I should pay more attention to my breathing when out of the water, too. Or, perhaps I should get lost in the rhythm of the water with far more frequency.

Questions: #46

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #46: What would you do differently if you knew no one would judge you?

I can't really think of anything.   I don't spend a whole lot of time agonizing over what people will think or say or do whenever they see me.  Examples:

*  I made a decision, off the cuff, to buzz my hair, within 10 seconds.  I did it again when I was 26.

*  I graduated from college with History degree and I was a pretty decent student.  Instead of graduate school, I went corporate.  A lot of professors said "I can't see it."  It's ok if they couldn't.  I could.

*  I go places alone.  A lot.  Restaurants.  Coffee shops.  Camping.  I figure maybe I'll meet someone interesting, and if I don't, that's fine too.  But who cares if I'm sitting alone someplace?

*  I spend a lot of time with other people's kids.  A gazillion people don't get why I would volunteer to watch TF or ask to keep TresPageJr for the weekend.  I like kids.  They are honest and fresh and innocent.  You don't have to spend time with them.  Why do you care if I do?

*  I dedicated an entire room in my house to my studio.  I hear "don't you need that room?" "what are you going to do when you have kids?" "why would you do that?" all the time.  I did it because I want it.  I'll figure it out if/when I need to make a change.

*  I have 3 cats and 2 dogs.  I can see people start to roll their eyes when they hear that.  It's ok.  Roll them.  My beasts and I have a good thing going.

*  Some of my best friends are 11 years old.  Some of the other ones are in their 50s.  Nope, I don't think it's that strange, and probably no one else should either.  I'm still going to hang out with my Unlikely Friend, TresPage, Teach, TF, TresPageJr, CloudMan, and JP.  

I know what I do, and why I do it.  Sometimes I do a lot for other people, and sometimes I am selfish and I do only what I need to do.  All that matters to me is that I can live with my decisions day in and day out.  I hope the people I love can live with them too, but if they can't, it's not enough to stop me.

On the other hand, I think that as much as I don't want to admit it, I'm pretty mainstream.  There aren't a whole lot of things that I do that are that different than other people.  Yeah, I'm quirky, but deep down, I'm not all that different.  I just want a good life, good friends, a family, a stable home, a pack of pups who love me, and enough money to live a comfortable life.  That's not so different right?

And so what can I come up with that I would do differently?  My quirky life just isn't that strange --- even compared to<fill in the blank>. 

Questions: #44

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #44: When is it time to stop calculating risk and rewards, and just go ahead and do what you know is right?

About five years ago. That's when it was time.

But, I've tried to start doing what I know is right. It isn't easy. In fact, it's really hard. I second guess myself all the time. I talk myself out of things I knew ten minutes ago all the way in my core. I'm getting better, but I spent my whole childhood and twenties being taught how to balance risk/reward. It's hard to unwind that just because I'm over 30 now.

Questions: #43

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #43: What is the difference between being alive and truly living?

I imagine there is no one answer. For me, it means more.

More love. More art. More books. More knowledge. When I'm curious, when having nothing to do means I write, or read, or have coffee with a friend instead of losing hours on the Internet, that's living. When I change what I'm doing instead of accepting the chaos in my head, my house, my heart, that's living. And when I look forward to being alone, not because I have nothing to give anyone, but because I look so forward to what I can give to myself, that is living.

Once, I was merely alive. Today, as I share all of this journey with you, I can finally say this.

I am truly living.

Questions: #42

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #42: Would you be willing to reduce your life expectancy by 10 years to become extremely attractive or famous?

It is  really weird, because my initial answer is "hell no I wouldn't."

But, if I answer an ever-so-slightly different question, the answer is completely different.  Instead of asking if I'd willingly give up my life expectancy, I'd like to answer what I read as the spirit of it.

Question #42: Would you give up ten years of your life to be extremely attractive or famous?

And so, the answer unfolding on the tiny iPhone screen in my hands, is simply: I already have.  

I mean who knows if I've given up ten years or not-maybe it's more and maybe it's less.  I couldn't be sure and neither can you.  But, interestingly enough, I started doing this to myself, and letting others do it too, approximately ten years ago.  

Physical appearance is fleeting, and unimportant --- in my brain.  But beside the part of my brain realizing that undeniable truth is another part, a loud, raging, screaming voice that says: "You are not enough.  The way you look is not enough.  There are times in your life where you are "better."  But even your better body, your better face, your better hair --- that will never be good enough."

This isn't an entry designed to invoke compliments or pacification.  It's merely an answer to the question above.  That answer needs to reflect that I have already wasted away so much of my life to such a shallow topic.  I look in the mirror and see thousands of flaws, and that's only at first glance. 

What does that mean for me?  It means I don't enjoy pictures of myself.  It means I spend a lot of time finding ways to hide all the self-imposed imperfections that I see.  It means I ask for people to take down  shots of me that are below chest height because I don't want people to see me in all the unflattering moments of my life --- the ones everyone already saw anyway.  Or maybe more accurately, the ones that perhaps only I saw.

So while I want to stand here today and say that no, I wouldn't trade ten years of my life for "attractiveness", whatever that actually means, I fear I already have.

As far as fame goes, I guess that depends on your definition.  Vertical Horizon had a lyric:

       "don't want to be famous in life

       don't want to be famous in the world

       don't want to be famous, famous

       i just want to be famous in your eyes"

For any of you out there, the family and friends for who I wish to be famous, I would gladly give up ten years of my life if only you could see me in that way. 

Questions: #41

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #41: If you knew that everyone you know was going to die tomorrow, who would you visit today?

I can't answer this.  And if I could, I wouldn't.  I'd prefer not to rank order the importance of everyone in my life.  To be tasked with such a difficult decision would be heartbreaking.

Questions: #40

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #40: When was the last time you marched into the dark with only the soft glow of an idea you strongly believed in?

I have no idea how to answer this question.  I've thought about it all day, and I don't think there has ever been a time.  That's pretty sad, huh?

Questions: #39

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #39: Do you feel like you’ve lived this day a hundred times before?

Not just a hundred times before, but many multiple hundred.

Questions: #38

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #38: Would you rather have less work to do or more work you actually enjoy doing?

Is this a gimme?  More work I actually enjoy.  Always and forever, that will be the answer.

Questions: #37

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #37: If you just won a million dollars, would you quit your job?

I don't think I  would immediately up and quit.  I would probably continue to work until I figured out exactly what else I wanted to do.  That said, I'd love to have time to do other things besides work: volunteer, spend time with family, become a dog trainer, run a business of my own.

Question: #36

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #36: Is it possible to know, without a doubt, what is good and what is evil?

I try not to buy into absolutes, particularly Judeo-Christian labels like "good" and "evil".  In college I took two separate classes, one literature and one history, both challenging me to look the other side of our monsters, heroes, and villains.  JP sold us Joan of Arc and Jesus as villains in their times.  DoctorC asked us to consider the zombies in Mathis' novel victims; afterall, they were being hunted by a loan human different than everyone else.

I've always lived in a sea of gray, but those two classes secured my desire to look at all sides of the story before deciding what the right answer is, particularly when judging someone or something as "good", "not good", "bad, "evil", etc.

On the other hand, I believe most people are generally decent.  We almost always make decisions motivated by fear, grief, love, desire, lust.  Is that good?  Does that make us all good?  I don't think so --- but it adds some sort of baseline human experience to our existences.  It's something we can all identify with. And that makes us all want to say "maybe <that person> is good afterall."

But then there are people who do unfathable, unspeakable, inhumane things.  Those people, people who rape, kill, torture, and imprison other humans-I would absolutely argue that they are evil. And that's without a doubt.

So the answer?  Can I know, without a doubt, what is good and what is evil?  I think almost everything is gray, and I don't know what is an absolute "good"; but I know evil when I see it.

Questions: #35

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Questions: #35: Why do religions that support love cause so many wars?

Leaving aside my own personal religious convictions, of lack thereof --- I would argue that the majority of "religious" wars start out as wars about territory and resources.  I'm not prepared to write an academic paper about this right now, but if you give me a religious war, I can almost guarantee a link.

Northen Ireland is about freedom from the UK.  Palestine is about land that was claimed by someone else.  Pakistan is about territory.  

Doing unspeakable things in the name of God is cowardly.  It's inhumane.  And it's a fallacy.

War is caused by people who want what doesn't belong to them.  Or, by people who are sick of losing what was theirs first.  I don't believe any God out there has anything to do with it.

Questions: #34

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #34: Have you ever been with someone, said nothing, and walked away feeling like you just had the best conversation ever?

I have to say no, that's never happened to me. I do know that I've found myself drawn to people I have never spoken to before. Often it's someone I see routinely but never have the chance to actually talk to. But whenever that happens, it's someone I'm able to observe doing things without caring what anyone else thinks.

Questions: #33

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #33: If you haven’t achieved it yet, what do you have to lose?

My pride. My ego. My heart. My comfort. 

But not achieving it is starting to show me that I'm losing myself.

Questions: #22

If you don't know why 22 comes after 32, please review this post.

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #22: Why are you, you?

This is the eternal question isn't it?  There's never going to be a right or complete answer.  And if I ask other people to answer it about me, they won't have an answer anymore complete than mine is.

But there are major reasons I am who I am today --- And it's people, or groups of people, in my life.  It a select few who have encouraged me, guided me, and loved me.  There are four people or groups to mention; I hold all of them responsible for all the things that make me me.

The first is my sweet family - A collection of smart, talented humans with big hearts.  I've never, not once, worried that they aren't on my side.  We fight and fuss like families do, but there's a thick bond, bigger than mere flesh and blood, that will bind us together for eternity.  It's the joys and the sorrows, the losses and the births, the successes and not-failures but big misses we've celebrated and grieved together that makes us strong.  And its the love, the unconditional, unfaltering gratitude we have and good cheer we bestow to one another than has taught me that there are places in which I will never be alone.  If anything could influence who I am as a person, the confidence, the passion, the joy I have in life, the absolute adoration I have for the kids I'm so madly in love with even as they grow older and wiser everyday --- well, my friends, it is that tremendous family who has captivated my heart since the moment I (or they) were born.

The second is the most unbelievably wonderful friend in the universe who has been with me for 20 years.  How can someone who has loved me, unconditionally, and didn't have to, not make me who I am?  My Oldest Friend encouraged me to be all the things I am and wanted to be --- a writer, a sculpter, a crazy lost woman with dreams of restaurants or phds.  You can't imagine what my adolescent years may have been if not for the safety and warmth, the open heart and open door, of my Very Oldest Friend.  And so, here's to another 20, my Oldest Friend.

The third is most unexpected, but happens to be a young teacher with whom I shared breakfast sandwiches, boy trouble, and college fears --- The Rev.  The Rev wasn't a rev back then.  He was (and is) a quirky English buff with unruly hair and sweater vests.  Not more than 27 when I first met him, a mere 16 myself, The Rev took me under his wings and set my academic head on straight.  I should mention, of course, that he helped work through my tortured, awkward love life up, too.  Actually, I guess, he still does.  The Rev sent me straight to my Alma Matar, my first adult home at the base of that tiny mountain I adore so greatly.  At that base, I found myself secure and anchored in the skin in which I was born.  I found a brain that could think, and a confidence in my writing.  I found a passion for the classics, and for Medieval History.  I found, for the very first time, a glimpse of who I truly could be --- myself.  Just me with no pretense of anyone else.  Just me, an awkward young adult with short cropped hair and hiking boots.  Just me, a smart, dedicated student who could think, and work, and dream, and create --- all in the same week.  Just me, whoever that was, or is, or may become. For the first time, The Rev showed me the person I am isn't merely good enough, but instead, is just right.  For that, I will be eternally greatful to that brainy young man with unruly hair and sweater vests.

And the forth is, no matter how much I wish to discard him, TxB.  And get ready, my friends, but this entry has some nicer things to say.  We spent 12 years, many of them good years, together; and so, TxB can't possibly be omitted as someone who has made me who I am.  Even after two years apart, he continues to influence me.  I hear songs by artists he introduced me to, and I drink varietal coffees I never knew about until him.  I fell in love with David Foster Wallace, who is still arguably one of my favorite writers of all time.  With TxB, I found outlets to test out what it feels like to be someone else.  I tested what it felt like to be the breadwinner --- and I didn't completely mind  it. I tested what it felt like to be a drummer's girlfriend --- and sometimes I liked it.  I tested what it was like to be faithful - and not --- and I liked and didn't like a lot if facets of each of those things.  And I tested what it feels like to give up parts of myself that are unfathomable --- and I still hate that.  In the end, what I know, is that I must reconcile, and make those things I dislike(d) right.  I can't undo what was or wasn't, not between us, but I can never again agree to give up the things that mean the most to me in this world.  And so, I won't.  In spite of a tumultuous 12 years, if I am thinking of all the people who have made me who I am today, I have perhaps, the most gratitude towards TxB.  Without him, I wouldn't have any sense of what it feels like to live a life I so passionately hate.  And, these 24 months later, I think I can honestly say that without him, I wouldn't know what it really means to have someone in your life who truly loves you even when he doesn't ultimately love himself.  

Who I am, what makes me me, is a collection of these and other experiences, heartaches, joys, fears.  It's a culmination of love and loss, relationships that have long ended, and those that will never stop.  Those who were unmentioned, are by no means, less important to me.  

But those above, those people listed, have molded and shaped me into all the things I am, and all the things I never want to be.  For those people, I inadequately express my sincere gratitude and love - for it is you who have shown me all that I am.

Questions: #32

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #32: If not now, when?

Whenever it is time.

Questions: #31

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #31: At what time in your recent past have you felt most passionate and alive?

Whenever I'm alone in my studio, doing whatever it is I want to do.  I have creativity awakening in my soul when I'm there.

Questions: #30

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #30: What is your happiest childhood memory?  What makes it so special?

I had a pretty happy childhood, but I have spent the whole day thinking about this question and wondering "but what was the happiest?  It's a difficult decision to categorize one event as happiest out of 18 whole years.

Remember a couple of posts ago, I explained that I recall memories in snapshots like a digital photo frame?  Well the still frame picture that continues to come to the front of my brain when I try to answer this question is at CSC with my dad.

I was probably 13.  My parents were fairly recently divorced and my relationship with Dad was strained.  I'm unsure the two things are related; I think many 13 year old girls have strained relationships with their fathers regardless of marital status.  Nonetheless, he was visiting one weekend because, as always, I was a stayover.

We were standing in front of the dining hall walking towards girls' camp, and he reached over and took hold of my hand.  I underreacted outwardly, but in my hormone riddled brain, I thought "my dad's proud of me after all." 

Is it the happiest?  I don't know. 

But it was pretty damn happy.

Questions: #29

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #29: Do you remember that time 5 years ago when you were extremely upset? Does it really matter now?

I do, and I think of it often. And yea, it does matter.  Significantly.

Questions: #28

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #28: Has your greatest fear ever come true?

I've been thinking all day and I don't know what my greatest fear is.  I suppose that means that no, it's never come true.

Questions: #27

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #27: Is it possible to know the truth without challenging first?

I think it is absolutely possible to know the truth without challenging it first.  Don't mistake what I am saying. I believe it's important to question and challenge ideas, people, values, knowledge, yourself.  After all, I am writing the answers to 50 questions for no other reason than to challenge myself and learn the truth as I see it.

But there is one thing I've never needed to question, and I was born knowing it; it has been reinforced by my family since the very moment I came home from the hospital.

And that one thing is the very simple reality that I am loved, unconditionally, by all 7 blood members of my immediate family: both parents, and five siblings.  Nothing else have ever been such an easily acceptable fact.

That is the truth, and I will never challenge it.

I hope, with every fiber of my being, that my two parents, Swati, Nani, Senior, Jdogg, and MandolinMan never challenge my love for them either. But if they ever do, it still wouldn't change the way I feel.

Questions: #26

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #26: Would you rather lose all of your old memories, or never be able to make new ones?

It's not that I don't like my life and all the memories I have, but at this point in my life, I just can't possibly choose to lose the ability to make new memories.  And so, I would, rather unhappily, give up my previous memories so that I can keep making new ones.  Here's the one and only reason why:

If I had to live out the rest of my days without a memory of the family I hope to build (soon), I would find myself lost in this life, particularly if I had to remember I hadn't started one yet.

Questions: #25

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #25: What are you most grateful for?

People. I'm most grateful for the people who are in my life. Some are people I'd never know if they weren't family. Others are family in my heart, and they always have been even longer than I have known them.

Most people are lucky to have two or three really good friends. Something has made me beyond lucky to have so many more people like that in my life.

Old friends in time. (And old friends in years!). Young friends. New friends. Sister friends. Lover friends.

And I'm grateful for them all.

Questions: #24

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #24: Which is worse, when a good friend moves away, or losing touch with a good friend who lives right near you?

I think it's worse when you lose touch with a friend near you. The reality is daily life gets in the way of staying in touch despite our (my!) best efforts. I find the the closer in proximity someone is to me, the harder it is for me to pick up the phone to make contact after a long while. I start to think-how did the time pass? Why did we lose touch? Don't we live right near each other?

If someone's far away, it seems less embarrassing to call up and say "long time - what's up?" 

It doesn't make any sense but that's how it plays out in my little weird world.

What's worse for you?

Questions: #23

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #23: Have you been the kind of friend you want as a friend?

I wish I could say I always have, but I know that isn't true. On the other hand, I try so very hard to be loving, supportive, and honest. I hope those of you out there who know me believe that that's true. And maybe, you might believe I actually am those things too. At least a lot of the time.

But I'm my always a good friend. I'm catty and self absorbed. Sometimes I forget to stop and say "hey seriously how ARE you doing?" And sometimes I don't put out all the facts or my feelings because its a little bit too scary for me.

Are you a good friend to your friends?

Question #22 is leapfrogged!

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #22 isn't a question I can answer right now. So, I'm breaking my own rules, and today I will skip it.

I'm absolutely going to answer this one, though. But it needs more time than a few hours after work on a Tuesday. I've started working on it, but I need to really think about it over the next 27 days or so while I finish up the remaining questions.

And so in this little world, 23 comes after 21 and 22 comes after 50.

Cheers.

Questions: #21

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #21: Would you rather be a worried genius or a joyful simpleton?

I find this question very difficult to answer because finding joy has nothing to do with your intelligence level. What's more, people can feel joy and worry. None of these things, or any combination of them, are mutually exclusive.

I will always believe that nothing is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is power. Yes, some kinds of knowledge gained may bring anxiety or worry, but is that a reason to declare someone un-joyful? Is worrying always negative? Doesn't worry sometimes lead us to decisions? Can't decisions, even difficult ones, bring us unadulterated joy?

I reject this question, and find myself believing that the only suitable answer requires declaring that joy and worry have nothing to do with our iq score.

Questions: #19 and #20

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Questions #19: you had to move to a state or country besides the one you currently live in, where would you move and why?

I would move out to the Midwest where everything about life is a little more relaxed, outdoor activities are the norm, and my house is in the middle of nowhere.

Question #20: Do you push the elevator button more than once? Do you really believe it makes the elevator faster?

I almost always do. It's not because I think it will be faster, but because I honestly like the way the buttons feel. It's a satisfying give and take with a crisp sound that follows. Few things in the world are as simple as satisfying.

Questions: #18

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #18: Are you holding onto something you need to let go of?

Of course I am.  If we are all being honest with ourselves, aren't we all holding onto to something(s)? 

I don't feel remotely compelled to tell you what it is I'm holding onto, but  I'm sure many of you would feel I should let it go after all this time.  Letting it go would probably bring me peace. 

It would also mean, however, that it won't be a regular part of my life anymore.  I'm not ready to let it go, because once I do, it's gone; quite frankly, letting it go is terrifying.  I think there will be a day when I know it's time.  When that day comes, I feel confident it will fly away into a distance memory; for now, I will continue to keep it close to me.

On the other hand, I think it's pretty ok to hold onto some things, even when it might be better if we didn't.  It's ok to allow things to define us.  It's ok to carry some of that around in your soul, everyday; after all, if you don't keep some of things that hurt you close to your heart, how else will you remember?

Questions: #17

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #17: What one thing have you not done that you really want to do? What’s holding you back?

Hike the Appalachian trail from start to finish.

I don't know what is holding me back. I guess it's because I thought I was supposed to finish college and start a job. Then I bought a house, and had bills like a mortgage and taxes to pay. 

Now it's nearly ten years later and I still haven't done it because I still have bills to pay.

But maybe I should forgo my bills and just hike the damn thing, eh?

Questions: #16

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #16: How come the things that make you happy don’t make everyone happy?

This is a really good question worth really pondering. I don't know if I'll ever know the answer, but trust me when I tell you it's one of the things in life I wish I could understand inside and out. I wish other people could too.

I think most people believe that what makes them happy will shift throughout their lives, but I don't think that's true at all. Not for me anyway. So to answer this question, I have to start out by asking myself - and answering - what are the things that really make me happy? It used to be a hard question for me to answer, but it's not, thankfully, anymore. 

What makes me happy is simply being part of the world, and living a life that is just a little bit bigger than my small piece of my hometown. It's being part of a circle of friends who let me care about them, and who care about me too. It's driving rescue transport for various shelters so that dogs (and cats!) can have a real chance at a family who will cherish them. It's taking my own girls to the dog park and watching them figure out how to be part of a never-ending pack that changes and shifts as dogs come and go. And it's being a role model for a pack of kids who look up to me, love me, and think they can learn from me --- and who have parents who believe I'm worthy of that role. The truth is though - I learn more from those kids then they could ever learn from me. My family, my sweet sisters and brothers, and their wonderful inquisitive little kids make me beam with happiness and glow with pride. And my own child(ren), the one(s) I haven't met yet but miss so very terribly - well just the possibility of them brings me more happiness than I can ever express.

So why is it that that doesn't make everyone happy? Well I don't know. I certainly don't believe the way I live is the only way to live. I don't think the things that are important to me are more worthy than anything that could be important to you. But I do think the way I grew up, in a close knit, but broken home, has a fair amount to do with me feeling so bound to the friends and family who are in my life. I think losing people who I was close to, friends, students my own age and younger, when I was a mere child myself, has made me overly sensitive to the reality that relationships are important. They mean something. They are something. They define pieces of you that are so deeply rooted you can't imagine how to explain them. And I think the very act of meeting, and loving some beautiful little people has shown me how much good there is in this world.

What makes other people happy? I'm sure a lot of things are the same, but I know many things are different - and the only reason I believe that is that everyone grows up in their own world, in their own skin, with their own brains. But one thing is for sure --- It wouldn't be very fun to spend all my time with all those people I love so dearly if they were all just exactly like I am.

What makes you happy?  Do you know what makes other people happy? 

Questions: #15

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #15: What’s something you know you do differently than most people?

I know that I think differently than many, if not most, people.  I think about things using a combination of visual words and pictures.  Sure, it's language, but what I think is really different is that I don't think the words; I see them.  When I write this blog, or a memo for work, or an email, I draft it with visual words in my head before the words appear on the page.  When I quote lyrics or poetry, it's not that I memorized the verbal words, but I have memorized the way the words are spelled and the order they appear in the sentence.  I feel extreme emotion when I commit those written words to memory, almost as if I wrote them myself first.  And when I read books or magazines, the words rewrite in my head so that it seems more like I'm reading what's in my mind than what's on the page.  If you've ever watched Harry Potter, and you know the scene where Harry writes "I must not tell lies" on his parchment, but it appears on his hand instead then you'll begin to understand what I mean.  It works just like that, except instead of blood and parchment, it's ink and virtual words that only I can see.

When I remember memories from childhood or even yesterday, I remember them in photographs instead of a movie.  Everything is stationary for a while. For example, I know that I don't really remember anything when my grandfather died.  I don't remember who told me he had died, and I don't remember the funeral service.  I suppose we went to a viewing, but I couldn't tell you anything about it.  And I'd imagine my family had some sort of luncheon or something of the sort after it was over, but I'll be damned if I know what it was.  There is only one thing I remember only about that entire experience, and it was very late at night.  I'm not sure what night it even was, but  I was in the car and we stopped at a convenience store. I got out of the car and stood there sobbing, completely motionless except for tears streaming down my face.  I remembering thinking "this is the first time I have cried."  I don't remember what happened next.  I don't remember who I was with, although I presume it was my mother and father.  I don't know if they spoke to me, or when I decided to get in the car.  I'm not sure if I got a drink or went to the bathroom or did anything else you usually do at a convenience store.  That's all I think about when I think about his death.  And that is the case with almost any memory I have.  Big memories.  Small memories.  They are captured in tiny snapshots frozen in time.

I guess I don't know how other people think, but I'm pretty sure it's not the way I just described it.  I've heard people say they think in pictures, but they describe what is in their mind as a continuous screenplay.  I've heard people say are visual thinkers or learners, but they describe a very concrete process of writing on paper, not in their minds.  And I've heard people say they think in words, but I'd be surprised to find out that they the words write themselves on the inside of their skull at the same time they are constructing the thought.

It's my opinion that I do a number of other things that are different from other people, but I find myself believing that much of what I do differently stems from a brain that processes memories and learns new things in the ways I just described.

How are you different?  In what ways do you do things that other people don't or won't?  Are you proud of that?  Do you wish you could change it? 

Questions: #14

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question # 14: Have you ever seen insanity where you later saw creativity?

I think we have to do two things before we answer this one.

1. Define insanity: something with utter foolishness. (At least, that's the definition if like to use for this entry.)

2. Define creativity: the ability to transcend traditional ideas, rules, patterns, relationships, or the like, and to create meaningful new ideas, forms, methods, interpretations, etc.

And let me just say that the definition of creativity is fabulous. But I digress.

I see a lot of insanity and foolishness, in life. I see foolishness in war, in love, in hunger and disease, in strife, in tradition, in religion, and even in social conventions. And yet, when I think about that definition of creativity above, I can say without a doubt that that foolishness is what necessitates change. Relationships must change. Rules must change. Ideas must change. Without creativity, this foolish world halts.

I would argue that almost anywhere you find creativity in this world, insanity set the wheels in motion.

What do you all think? Are insanity and creativity related? Does one need other?

Questions: #13

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #13: Would you break the law to save a loved one?

I don't know.  I think this is a question that can't be answered until you find yourself asking because you need the answer now.  My gut says that yes, I probably would in a number of scenarios; the situation would have to be dire and the consequences of not saving him/her huge.

Questions: #12

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #12: If you could offer a newborn child only one piece of advice, what would it be?

No matter what decision you make, the only thing that matters is you can live with it; ultimately all we have is our moral character. Invent yours wisely.

Questions: #11

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #11: You're having lunch with three people you respect and admire. They all start criticizing a close friend of yours, not knowing she is your friend. The criticism is distasteful and unjustified. What do you do?

I admit it. I can be pretty damn catty. And fickle. 

But there are only a a couple of things that matter to me in life, and one of those things is my people. Don't fuck with my people.

I have no issue telling people to settle down. And even if you were Jesus, I'd tell you to shut your mouth if you talk about my people.

And that, my friends, is the end.

Questions: #10

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #10: Are you more worried about doing things right, or doing the right things?

There isn't a hugely long answer to this. Doing the right thing is always more important than doing things right.

I always think that if it works out in the end, then who cares how you got there? And ultimately, I have to live with my actions. Everyone else may remember if I didn't do something right; only I have to live with doing the wrong thing.

Questions: #9

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #9: To what degree have you actually controlled the course your life has taken?

I think this is a loaded question. No one really has much control over their lives because shit happens and you didn't ever think, or dream, or wish it would. And that shit that happens changes your life.

So I can control the decisions I make and the way I react to stuff around me. I can control the way I spend money, communicate with people, and the energy I use to get through the day. But I can't control most of what happens to me.
And I don't want to.

I'm not a religious woman. I don't believe in someone who died for my sins, or in multiple deities. I don't think I'm a chosen one or that I am descended from Ishmael. But I do believe there is something out there that is bigger than me. There is some sort of natural order that sets things in motion, and yeah, I have the power to make decisions for myself; the universe, however, has its own plans and all I can do is react.

So how do I pin down the degrees to which I've controlled my life? I have no idea. All I know is I get up and I do the best I can do in the moment. Sometimes my best means reacting to all the things I can't control. And that's ok.

Questions: #8

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #8: if the human life span was 40 years, how would you live your life differently?

It's pretty simple.

I wouldn't have stayed with TxB for even one year, let alone 12. I'd have had kids by 20-21. And I would spent the majority of my time doing creative stuff like ceramics, painting, wood working, and collage. Dog parks, day camps, art studios, and coffee shops would be the majority of the places I spent my life.

Questions: #7

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #7: Are you doing what you believe in, or are you settling for what you are doing?

For most of my life, I've settled. I settled for Bs when I was more than capable of As. I settled for an embarrassingly low SAT score instead because I was more interested in drinking with my friends than getting into a good college. So, I settled for Albright College, and don't get me wrong, it was a great choice for me. It only worked out because I was lucky; it's not because I didn't settle. I settled into settling by that point: boyfriends, making very little money for very hard work, not getting married, not having a child, and doing the same thing day after day with no direction.

But I'm happy to say I'm not settling for very much anymore, and when I do, I know what I'm trading. I'm trading more money for working at home. I'm trading a nicer car for one that gets me (and a slew of dogs) from here to there safely.

And somethings I'm not trading at all. I'm not trading my studio for a guest room no one uses. I'm not trading a second dog for freedom on the weekends (who needs "freedom" when you have four big brown eyes to wake up anyway?). And I'm not trading myself and who I am for love or money or show.

So am I settling? Maybe in some things, but being settled in the life I really love isn't really settling all, now is it?

Questions: #6

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #6: If happiness were the national currency, what kind of work would make you rich?

You aren't going to find a long winded answer to this one. My only answer is spending as much time with as many young people as possible - doing things like camping, canoeing, talking, laughing, fort building, clay working, dog walking, etc.

And, when they are my own young people, I'll be a gazillionare.

Questions: #5

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #5: What is the one thing you’d most like to change about the world?

If I could change anything in the world, it would be the desire humans have to change each other. I'm serious. I want the world to accept and value individuals for whoever they are, and whoever they want.

Just think that through. We'd have less war, less divorce, less estranged families, less judgment about non traditional families, women who work, gender specific issues. Overall, it would make this world such a better place to be.

Questions: #4

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #4: When it's all said and done, will you have said more than you've done?
Sadly, the answer is I will have said more than I have done.

The only consistent feedback in my professional career has always been "you talk way too much." Over the years, I'm way better but I'll never be a woman of few words.

My dad used to say "don't worry about them. If you have something to say, say it."

I'm finally ok with that. Action is important but I'm always talking more than I'm doing.

Questions: #3

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #3: If life is so short, why do we do many things we don't like like and like so many things we don't do?

I think there are a lot of reasons why this happens, but the major reason is pretty simple: we learn it from our parents. I'm sure you'll identify with any number of statements in the list below:

-"Be a grown up."
-"I don't have a choice. Neither do you."
-"Life isn't fair."
-"Don't cry; be a wo(man)."
-"You're not a baby anymore."
-"We all have to do things we don't like."
-"You have to be responsible."

Who hasn't heard all or most of those things? And how old were you when you started hearing them? No wonder we spend our lives learning to put the things we love at the bottom of the list.

But that's just my perspective. Why do you do so many things you don't like? And why don't you do more of what you do like?

Questions: #2

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

Question #2: Which is worse, failing or never trying?

I find this question particularly difficult, and different than the other 49 (of which you have only seen 1) because I feel like there is a right answer implied. Perhaps that is because I wish my answer were the other one. Since the objective is for me to be introspective (and maybe retrospective too), I'll be honest and give you my real answer.

Failing. Failing is much much worse than never trying. To me, anyway.

No one likes to fail, or not most people that I know, but I can only speak for myself. Failure shatters me. It's so much easier to give in, give up, give less and expect nothing than to try with all my might only to find it didn't work afterall.

I want to tell you that trying is more important. That if I reached for the moon but hit the stars, that's ok. That applying to graduate school but not being accepted is character building. That being turned down for a new job just means good experience with interviewing. But the reality is, that's just now how I see it.

I can't be disappointed if I don't try. I might be unhappy, unfulfilled, unstable - but not disappointed. The only risk is the risk of never finding something new.

All the time, I think I should reach for something, look for it, find it, and who cares if it doesn't work out? In 2013, I've started it, and some things haven't worked out; maybe other's will and so maybe someday, if you ask me this question again, I'll finally be able to tell you that never trying is worse. I just can't tell you that today.

So, what do you think is worse? Not trying or failing?

Questions: #1

If you're not familiar with this series of posts, and you want to catch up, the introduction is here.

#1: How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?

Is it a non-answer if I say that not knowing how old I am would cause me to believe that such a determination is irrelevant?

As long as I can remember, people have called me "an old soul". When I was young, I didn't really know what that meant, but I thought I should be proud of it. People would tell me, and I'd puff my chest out and beam. 

I'm not sure if us "old souls" have one solid definition, but for me, I think of it as something allowing me to identify with something bigger than I am. Sometimes it seems like I feel things I never experienced. I know things no one has told me. I ask questions that no one can answer. Sometimes I think "maybe I learned that in some other life."

I'm not suggesting that reincarnation exists, or that I even believe in it, but I do find that some people, me, my rogue eleven year olds, TresPageJr and TF, Queen's daughter, Jip, my father, and his father (and probably his father too) all have some sort of knowledge, experience, understanding that is far beyond our own years.

Age is a measure of time, and time may not be manipulated. By contrast, how old or young someone is measures something else that isn't tangible. For that reason, I reject the idea of chronology, and instead prefer to think of "how old" people are by wisdom that's inexplicable.

And so I ask, how old would YOU be if you didn't know how old you are?

Questions

Have you ever asked yourself "who I am?" Do you know? Do you care?
Do you think other people know who you are? Do you think they know you more than you do? Could that be possible?

Can you be yourself with other people? Can you be yourself if you've never been alone?

Does your personal perception of who you are change who you will become? Are you trying to be something you are not? Are you hiding the something(s) you are? Is there a difference? Do you know what it is?

I have no idea what the answers are for myself, let alone for the world, and yet, I find myself asking these questions regularly.

Why? Because questions are important. If you don't question, how will you understand? Professors, bosses, doctors - they all expect you to ask questions. But do you ask them? Are they thoughtful? Do you answer quickly when someone asks you something? Do you take your time? Does it matter?

I ran across a blog tonight, a brilliant, thought-provoking blog called Marcandangel.com. Read it. Follow it. It will change your life.

One of their articles is called "50 Questions That Will Free Your Mind". You can find it here. Tonight I read through them, and they are hard, difficult questions without an answer. Some of them I have asked before, and some of them have never occurred to me. And so, for the following 50 days, I will have an entry per day with an answer that is, I hope, genuine and thoughtful. At the end, I hope to have learned something.

As I do this, I challenge you to find your own answers, and if you're willing, to share them in the comments of each post.

Nameste.

The Places You Will Be From

Sometimes there are lyrics that play 'round and 'round in my head.  There is nothing I can do to make them stop.  Well, almost nothing.

Today's clever tune is Semisonic's Closing Time.  There are so many brilliant lyrics.  And it's so applicable.

Closing time; it's time for you to go out to the places you will be from.

Well, that's so true isn't it?  It is time.  It's always time.  I have no idea where it is that I'll be from, but this particular place is old, and it's haggard.  It needs a fresh coat of paint, a new rug, and everything should be rearranged.  Yep.  I said it - everything.

I find that it's hard to realize you're stuck in the place you are currently from.  Who actively decides to give up their will be place?  Not me.  But once you realize you're stuck, it's even harder to make the change.  Just like when you stumble out of the bar late at night, disoriented, lost, and wandering because you're not sure where you are going, finding your way home is a just a little more than scary.  Maybe the comfort of familiar places lulls us into dreading anything slightly new.

Slightly new means risk.  It means turning down a road you've never seen before.  It means talking to people you don't even know.  And it means giving up the warm bar stool you searched for all night, not because you really want to - but because it is time.

In nearly twenty four months, huge changes - personal and professional - have come, and huge changes have gone, but there is a gnawing, a hollow unsettled knot in my gut, that has never gone away.  As per usual, I'm restless and want to wander.  I have no idea where the path goes, or what my life will look like in another twenty four months, but the only thing in focus is the something else my life could be.  Or should be.  Someday.

There are so many things I've never done, so many things I've wanted, needed, and longed for.  A degree in something I love.  A job that satisfies my soul and not my wallet.  People who will complete my family.  I close my eyes, and I am missing things and people who have yet to ever exist.  Most notably, my child.  Folks, I've wanted to be a lot of things in my life, but the only thing that has never waivered is my deep desire to be a mother.  Everyday I close my eyes and I find myself missing someone who I don't even know.  And it's not because I'm 31.  I've felt this way for as long as I can ever remember.   

This blog isn't to tell you all that I'm having a child (this is how rumors get started!), but it is to tell you that there is something out there for me that is bigger than all this.  I don't know if my job will change or I'll get a new degree - but my place look so very different now.  And so, there's no point today, my friends, except to acknowledge that there is change brewing inside me.  I have no idea where I'm going, but I hope you'll follow along as I figure it out.

As always, thanks for reading.  

This is What i am

A little more than fourteen months ago, I started this blog as an opportunity to chronicle my trip to India.  As I returned back to my abnormal life, though, I found it important to begin reflecting on the things I think about, what I regret or am afraid of, and what matters most to me.  So I've recently began to think about the life of this and what I want it to be, and I realize I want to continue sharing my experiences, my thoughts, and my life.  There are no themes or topics other than what I find meaningful in the moment.  And so, "The Wacky Tales of a Mushroom Gone Wild" doesn't really seem to fit with much of anything I think or feel, write about, or want to define me or this blog that's become a lot more than just a way to share the journey to my roots all those many months ago.

As I continuously looked for a reinvention, I kept returning to the same questions: "What do I want to say?  And who is it that I really am?"  It reminded me that for almost all of my life, my personal mantra has always been two small little words that merely read: i am.

Why is that?  Because any time I find myself anxious or unsure, I can close my eyes and think "it doesn't matter.  It only matters that I am."  I am what, you ask?  Well, the answer always depends. 

I was a child, a teenager, and now I am a woman.

I am a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a cousin.

I am a business woman, a homeowner.

I am a thinker, a writer, an artist.

I am a friend, a family member, a role model.

I am a girlfriend, a partner.

I am myself...

And as long as I can always close my eyes and know whatever "i am" is true, then I will always have something to say.  So today, I have landed on a new blog name - This is What i am. 

I hope you like this, and me, for what it is, and what I always am.

Nothing happens for a reason

I'm sure you're all familiar with the saying "everything happens for a reason."  But is that even true?  And if not, why do we say it?  Is it because, perhaps, it brings comfort to those moments when everything in life seems out of control?  Or maybe people say it to each other because they don't know what else to say.  Silence is more uncomfortable than feeling out of control, I think.

As humans, I think it's in our nature to try to justify and understand life.  Bad, difficult, or unpleasant things happen, and instead of merely accepting it, we want to explain that it's someone's plan for us, or that there is some cosmic force that made it happen.

The idea of that offends me.  Things happen because we make choices, and choices have consequences.  I didn't meet Pepper because it happened for a reason; I met him because my family threw me a dinner, and I graciously (and grudgingly) attended.  I didn't meet Old Man and Teach by chance; I met them because they were friends with TxB.  I didn't end up in in the same line of business at my BigAssCompany for the last nine years for the hell of it; I stayed there because I believe in it.  There's nothing in my life that just happened for a reason.  It happened because I let it, or, because someone else did.

Stuff, bad stuff, good stuff, neutral stuff - it all happens to everyone.  Some people let it make or break them, and others roll with the punches.  I try to roll with it.  Nothing really makes me more anxious than feeling out of control or like I don't have the ability to change things immediately in my life.  Situations like that become opportunities to accept that sometimes other people in my life hold all the power in their hands, and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.  Fighting it is a futile effort that, at least for me, just makes me more anxious and nervous.  Instead, accepting it, really truly accepting something I didn't choose, brings me peace.

I have some things going on right now, things I didn't pick, things I can't control, and things I'm not particularly happy about - after one night of sleeplessness, I decided it's not worth arguing about.  Things will be what they are, but there isn't any natural order of things causing it.  It's life.  It's someone else's choice, and the decision made that impacts me is directly related to the perception of who I am and what I can do.  If it works out for me, it's not because this happened for a reason; instead, it's because I took it in stride and did the best I can do.  And if it doesn't work out for me, and I move on to something else in my life, it's not because this happened for a reason; instead, it's because I took it in stride, and did the best I can do.

And then I made a different choice.

I realize I'm being intentionally vague right now, and for that I apologize.  I'm not able to relay any details until later this week, but even if I could, it doesn't really matter.  The details of this post are inconsequential, and that's almost the point of this.  This thing, just as any other thing, will work out the way it does because I will make it so, not because there's a reason.

My friends, I know, that seems too simple, and perhaps it's even offensive.  Are you sitting there asking yourself if I'm saying the untimely departure of someone is because you made it so?  Or that the destruction from natural disasters is because someone made it so?  Of course not.  Instead, I'm suggesting that perhaps there are things that happen in life just because they do.  There is no reason for them.  There is no divine purpose or grand scheme.  They just happen.  

It's what you do with those things that just happen, that are out of your control, that change your life.  There doesn't have to be an underlying reason or rhyme for it.  It didn't happen so you could learn something new.  It happened.

If you learn from it, if you grow from it, if you make a new choice - good for you.  That's self awareness, self preservation, and self respect.  It's mature and grown up.  And it's hard.

I know sometimes it feels a lot more comfortable to assume something happened to you because there is a reason for it, and I won't really try to convince you if that's what you believe.  If you tell me, however, that something happened to me for a reason, and I raise my eyebrows at you, please understand that I just don't see it that way.

It works out because I make it so.  And so do you.