Mar 112024
 

I’m in a bit of a post-travels slump. The weather isn’t helping as it is pouring rain as I type this now. It has been a little chilly, though not overly so, but the rain 🌧️🌧️ and thunderstorms β›ˆοΈβ›ˆοΈ and wind πŸ’¨πŸ’¨ have not been inspiring. 😟

Although it is likely to sound spoiled of me to complain about the weather after having been away on travels for three weeks, I am doing it anyway! πŸ€ͺ We had thought that by now we would have escaped most of the bad weather as we are indeed “fair-weather” people. Apparently, this is the tail end of spring’s entrance and we are hoping for sunnier skies soon. β˜€οΈ

So, keeping with the doom and gloom theme – today’s post is about the use of words and tone.

There are any number of quotes or song lyrics about how words can be weapons. While some people use them freely without thought or care, others take so much time to consider each one before speaking or sharing. Somewhere in the middle, as is the case for most things in life, is the balance of expressing ourselves adequately yet with consideration on how they might be received.

In this day and age of being told that it is not for us to worry about how others respond to what we say or do, the need for taking responsibility in affecting the response has been shirked away as “not my problem”. However, imagine how just the simple tone of statements can be received in such different ways. Then, add on all the nuances of meanings behind words that vary person to person and see the complication of communication. So, why make it even harder or worse by being unkind from the beginning?

Kindness in heart. Kindness in intention. Kindness in gestures. Kindness in words.

This should be our starting point for all conversations. Follow this with the feeling of respect and I can guarantee that even the most contentious of discussions can be had without belittling, dismissing, or hurting the other person’s feelings or sense of identity.

It is really no wonder that our world is in a constant state of tension, anger, and frustration. Humans have lost the art of kindness and respect yet crave it to the point that it is commanded rather than demanded through presence and etiquette. These days, I feel very old or of another world. Social and personal standards are dropping, but if I express my lamentations of it I am seen as the odd-ball. So, I have started to withdraw from society and others.

Unfortunately, this is not working for me either. Now that we are back home and returning to our regular lives, I am finding that I need to adjust my strategy in building a lifestyle that is fulfilling. I’ve let myself carry on limiting beliefs; thus limiting my chances at experiences, friendships, and who knows what else.

Therefore, I am determined to break out of my self-created box. With my own words of kindness and respect, I hope that I can create a bit of sunshine in the rainy and stormy lives of others as well as my own. πŸ₯°

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Jan 262024
 

Another week almost finished and it’s had some bumps, but overall I have no reason to complain – though I do. 😬 (I know…).

First, an update on Motion from last post. I decided to give it a try for the year. There are a few kinks that I don’t love about it, but they seem to be updating the program regularly. So, I’ll keep going on it and probably send them suggestions as I get used to it. I am still running my Todoist list alongside for now as I’m not quite ready to completely transfer over. πŸ€ͺ

Anywho, last night, M convinced me to sit outside under the full moon πŸŒ• by our outside fire pit πŸ”₯ with a lovely glass of Cotes du Rhone 🍷 in my hand. I started out with a begrudging acquiescence to the activity. I had felt cold much of the day so being outside didn’t sound appealing. Plus, I was allowing my internal irritation with a house project to slowly bubble into a boiling flame. So, I had to take a deep breath when M compromised in helping me complete part of it and I realized it really wasn’t worth ruining an evening over. There isn’t necessarily a rush to get it done; it’s more the principle of the course of the project and external factors that are people-dependent that were the source of my angst over it.

This made me reflect.

In finding a piece of me again, I forgot that not everyone else has had self-growth spurts. Thus, my expectations and general guardedness of/with others both rose and lowered, respectively. Well, this is never a good thing in my experience. Keep expectations low and make room to be surprised. Keep guard up and have flexibility to lower it later. I know these rules of mine, but I had a lapse – as I am wont to do on occasion. This lapse created my own bumps this week. 🫀

Somehow M knows how to snap me out of these moments whether it is a conscience action or just an orchestration of Lady Universe to bring me back to reality. So, as we sat staring at the fire after he listened to my light rant, he reminded me – “Look at our lives, babe. We are very lucky.” To which I corrected because neither of us believe in “luck” when it comes to life, “We live luxuriously because we made it happen.” With a smile, we cheers-ed to that.

It was in that space of time when I shifted the wording and our clinking of glasses that I understood the creation of my own bumps this week. I expected too much. I let my guard down. I was giving over power and control of things to others when it is me/we who make things happen for us. We often lament to each other how we see or hear of other people who continue in their own ruts, blame others for their situations, or just simply shut down to any action or responsibility for their destinies. That’s just not us or me.

Now, I know a counterargument can be made that makes my statements seem pessimistic or fatalistic or some other negative connotation, but I would need a proper conversation on why one interprets them in a greyer light. In any case, I’m just acknowledging there is another side, but for me this week I am reminded of the more positive side to the “rules” I tend to live by.

So, in taking back my own power and returning to the rules of my life, I am feeling better.

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Aug 212023
 

Life is very good. People who do not know us or our history have told us that they can never imagine being able to live as we do. People who do not know us or our history think that what we have now was easy to obtain–for us. People who do not know us or our history think that I am a “princess” and M is a “saint”.

Let me emphasize, these are people who do not know us or our history.

Just six years ago, we arrived in Japan nearly penniless having borrowed money from M’s daughter to pay for our plane tickets out of the UAE with only a faint hope that starting over would be how we were going to rebuild our finances and our lives. Thanks to our dear friends and the blessings of the Universe, we were able to find a place to live, and survived on about 15USD a day. For a month, we made the best of it until M’s first paycheck. Slowly, we made progress–moving into a house, increasing our daily spending, I finally started working, and then little by little life became easier.

Then, the pandemic happened. We willingly and consciously decided to uproot ourselves and move continents–again.

Although we were not in the same position as when we arrived in Japan, we were not in the best of positions when we left. Still, life is short and we are eternal optimists (well, me less so than M 😝).

So, we arrived in Europe with a few more pennies in our pocket (and we paid for our own flights πŸ˜…), and smarter about how we went about our days. M’s business was taking off so much so that he could quit his other work. I was only working freelance, but for a lot less money. Still, we were on the upside again.

We moved to Italy and found our dream home. Feeling on top of the world, we agreed to a crazy plan to buy the house.

Then, the markets crashed.

Another year of stress came to us as we considered how to ensure we weren’t homeless and penniless–again. Yet, we made it through.

What people see now is the results of all of the above. Keep in mind that’s just the abbreviated version! The fact is that life is full of ups and downs. I consider my husband to be like a walking energy tornado who has a knack of creating chaos. Yet, somehow he makes magic with it. Plus, to give myself some credit, he has me to bring balance to the pendulum. I make sure the pendulum swings are not so extreme anymore–or at least, that is the goal. πŸ€ͺ

The point is that no one’s life is easy no matter how it may look on the outside. Seeing a slice of the pie doesn’t mean that the other side is still intact or pretty. While we naturally will judge what we can see or want to see, I remind myself and us that we have no idea what’s on the inside of a person or a relationship or a situation. Also, the seemingly perfect can become less than so in a blink of eye so nothing should ever be taken for granted. πŸ˜‡

In any case, I am enjoying the upswing of the pendulum and am thankful every day that this is my life. πŸ’œ

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Mar 032023
 

Upon returning from Venice, we woke the next morning preparing for M to go to the UK for a week to see family and do some business activities. I was looking forward to a week of my own schedule, time, activities. We soon were signaled that things might not go quite as smoothly, when we realized there was no hot water and assumed it was a boiler problem since there had been work on it and we had had trouble before.

First thing was first, M headed to the airport and would coordinate on the way.

The plumber/boiler guy came early in response to M’s request, but said, “Boiler is fine. You are out of gas.”

Oops! 😬

The gas guy said he wouldn’t be able to arrive until Tuesday – it was Monday, but fine. I could wait to have a shower until Tuesday afternoon and I don’t particularly care about cooking anyway – all I need is a microwave and kettle most of the time, especially when I’m on my own.

Tuesday morning, I felt good. I was getting into my own groove. I ran some errands in the morning expecting the gas guy to come around noon and I had a call at 5pm, before which I wanted to get some work done, walk the dogs, and then I could enjoy a relaxing evening with a hot bath.

Gas guy didn’t arrive until later in the afternoon, work took longer than usual so I was delayed walking the dogs, 5pm call got cancelled around 4pm. So, with everything finally done by 4:30 and faced with an extra hour to luxuriate sooner in a hot bath, I decided to just take the pups for a little walk in the fields and hills nearby rather than get in the car and drive down to the riverside paths 20 minutes, each way.

All of these little events and decisions led up to the moment when all other plans were thwarted for the hereafter.

While I do not sit – rather lay – blaming any one event nor lament “if this or that had or hadn’t happened, then…”, it is interesting to ponder how a series of actions can culminate at a particular moment. I’ve long been fascinated by stories like Magnolia, Crash – both film and series, and the like that point out how our lives intersect and events can have ripple effects on ourselves and others.

What if I had been on the call instead? I wouldn’t have fallen.

What if I had not been lazy in taking the dogs down to the river for a walk – I mean, I had the time? I wouldn’t have fallen.

What if we had not run out of gas, or the gas guy had arrived earlier, or I had not had focused on work for so long, etc. etc.? I wouldn’t have fallen.

But, I did fall.

So, rather than lament, I ponder. I wonder what the learning is in this new “plan” for my days and future few months. I wonder if the learning is solely for me. Or, if the learning is for M at my expense, as I sometimes have felt about other things gone wrong for me in my/our life. Or, as my dad said, “Sometimes sh*t just happens!”

In any case, it doesn’t matter really. I mean, I am learning about patience, regaining appreciation for the discipline of meditation, M’s capacity to be a caregiver, my capacity to be a receiver of care, the capacity of my friends (near and far) to care and express compassion, etc. etc. Much is being observed and processed. I’ve got lots of time to do so.

At least, I still have my fingers to type and my laptop to get some words out. My writing by hand is lagging, but when I can sit up again, I’ll get back to it. For now, I’m adapting. I’m accepting. I’m acknowledging the limits of what I can vs what I want to do.

One day, I’ll see how all of this does have meaning even if there is no obvious cause – synchronicity.

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Feb 232023
 

Since our trip to Venice, I have been pondering the idea of “bucket lists” and contemplating the reason I don’t have one – or so I think.

For a while, it was all the rage to have a bucket list and people would do something on their list, share it, and feel satisfied that they could tick something off their list. Sadly, the desire to tick/check it off the list became more important than enjoying the experience that might have been the real reason someone wanted to do that thing in the first place. These days, it’s as if we are just collecting stars like on a childhood sticker chart for having done something rather than feeling content with living in the moment. I’m sure this is a blanket statement and many people may not behave this way, but you get what I mean.

For me, I always felt the idea of a bucket list to be just another way for most people to lament about how they haven’t done the things they’ve wanted in their lives. So, instead of seeing it as a “want to do” list, I see it as a “wish I could” list. To a language nerd, these do not hold the same meaning.

A “want to do” is with a plan that leaves room for error, but it will get done.

A “wish I could” is an idea that leaves room for excuses, sighs, lamentations, and belief that they can/will not happen.

These terms could be argued, but the main point is that I do not see life as a list of things I wish I could do. I see it as a plan to do the things I want.

So, if I want to see China, I have a plan to do it. I’m not going to wait until “someday”, but I do have a real plan in the next few years to get on a tour and see it. In contrast, I can be heard saying I wish I could skydive. While I know that it is fully within my capability to go find a way to jump out of an airplane and scream into the vast atmosphere until a parachute (hopefully) opens up to quiet the space around me as I float, I know that I will not actually do this – or at least the probability is less than 50%. First, the wish is not strong enough to make it happen; and well, I’ve got a lot of other things I want to do so that it is not a priority. That’s not say I wouldn’t do it if the chance presented itself easily, though.

Also, I see a bucket list as a bit morbid. People always use it in phrases like, “I want to tick this off my bucket list before I die.” Death is always connected with it. It’s the same idea as “I’ll do that when I retire.”

Although I fully appreciate that people have limits financially, time-wise, work-wise, or family and social obligations, I do not believe that we must wait until a so-called “perfect” situation arises to make the things we really want happen. It’s true that some things take time to save up money, to rearrange schedules, to prepare others if we are away. However, nothing but our egos and fears stop us from taking the steps required to do the things that we want.

As my life mantra is “NO is just a suggestion to find another way to YES”, I live without worry about how or when I can do the things I want.

Still, I have moments of doubt when my “little B with an itch” voice threatens to convince me that I’m just fooling myself or that I’m in some sort of alternate reality where life is some kind of fantasy. I suppose all that might be true.

However, I choose to make lists of action not ones of sitting and wistfully sighing about someday ticking something off a my bucket list…. I believe everyone can and should do this too!

~TπŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Jan 262023
 

When I lived in Oregon as a young person I would often have a sense of melancholy during the winter or grey sky days. For a long time, I chalked it up to me just being a bit depressive by nature and a characteristic of my more introspective ways. 😒 Then, I heard about this thing called seasonal affective disorder (S.A.D.) or seasonal depression.

Although having a label is not necessarily my aim, it is often helpful to have terms to use in describing a certain way of thinking or behaving. With a label definition as a guideline, one can try to address it and create a new understanding of one’s identity either within the guidelines or push on beyond it. So, it was when I went to Japan and experienced colder, but sunnier winters that I realized I would not feel as “blue” as I normally would that time of year in the Pacific Northwest.

My nine years in the desert really highlighted just how much I love/need the sun β˜€οΈ and warmth as not once did I miss rain or cold weather. On the rare occasion when rain β˜”οΈ did fall or a sandstorm πŸŒͺ️ rose up, I accepted a temporary lapse in the ideal weather pattern, but if it lasted more than a day or two I was not pleased. 😑

Now that we are in our second year in the Italian countryside, I am more settled and aware of myself outside of the external contributing factors that may cause stress or a lower mood level. Without those things to explain why suddenly I feel less chipper than I used to, I can now put my finger on the fact that where we live continues to be similar to where I grew up in another part of the world with weather conditions not much different. In fact, as my father often mentions, our temps and weather doesn’t differ much than at home. πŸ€¦πŸ½β€β™€οΈ

So, I finally acknowledged this week that I think I might be a little depressed. 😬

It’s not stress as we really have nothing to stress about. Although my husband can cause me external grief πŸ™„, it is not enough to definitively say that it is him as the source of my darker moods. The fact that it is cold, we have many days of grey, and the dark is where I spend a great portion of my day to avoid letting the heat out are undeniable causes of my gloom. πŸ˜΅β€πŸ’«

They say the first step is to be aware. Check βœ…. The next step is to accept. Check βœ…. Now, to do something about it! πŸ’ͺ🏽

We have discussed plans to go away in March, but the fact is that the weather here will be better by then. So, for this year, we are looking at traveling a bit more since seeing new places always lifts my mood. Then, for this time next year, we are going to plan in advance to be away in warmer climates to avoid a repeat of these darker days in the future.

In the meantime, I am focusing on the positives and layering up even more as I open my windows more often to let the sunlight β˜€οΈ in during the day. 😁

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Jan 182023
 

When I was young I thought I wanted to have a huge family. Since I had moved around so much and never felt as if I “belonged” in the sense that people wouldn’t question my roots or right to claim a family as my own, I thought that if I had my own kids I would then obviously have established my place in the world. So, for many years, I imagined myself with at least four or six kids. I mean, why not?!

Then, I realized I was actually a little bit nuts thinking that way. Plus, I think I really had gone a bit nuts in my late 20s and early 30s. Everything I thought was the right path to take went into question when the man I had committed to turned out to be a liar of who he presented himself to be not only to me, but to the world. My faith in commitment over love was shattered. I thought that I was supposed to have chosen the practical and realistic path, not the one that was about soulmates and a love so deep that it hurt.

Feeling as if I had truly chosen a path that was just a dead end, I reconsidered the option of having children. Would a child save my marriage since my former mother-in-law was so persistent in asking us when we would give her a grandchild? Thankfully, it seemed that the Great Beings above were looking out for me and no kids were granted before I woke up to the fact that I could choose a path of life that did not follow the conventional.

Over the years in my mid to late 30s I would consider children again. Could I adopt? Should I marry someone who was really desperate to have his own kids? Wait, did I really even want them knowing what I knew then?

After a bit of soul searching, asking my parents, asking other people, I came to the conclusion that there was no satisfactory reason for me to have children. I didn’t have an aching desire for it. I didn’t care about having heirs or security that someone would take care of me in my senior years. I definitely didn’t need to feel as if an alien was growing inside of me, like invasion of the body snatchers that consume every natural function of my physical well-being. I didn’t want to embrace sleepless nights or feeling glued to a location for stability, schooling, so-called sanity. There was literally nothing that gave me a warm sensation about having kids. Not even my deep-rooted issue about not looking like anyone in family photos could persuade me that having dependent lifeforms carrying on my genes was a good idea.

So, I determined, no children – ever!

When M and I met, it was kismet because he had had his children and ensured that we could not have them together. This is a basic agreement any serious relationship should start with; otherwise, there is potential disappointment for one party or the other later. No children – ever – guaranteed.

“But, you like kids and they like you!” was always a response I would get when the topic of having offspring would arise. I do not disagree with this statement, still it does not change my mind.

This past week confirmed my stance.

Since we moved to France, we became wonderful friends with a family that has two young girls. They are now 11 and 13. We get along great as couples and with their girls. We somehow very early on agreed to kid-sit for first a night or two, then a week, then a couple of weeks, and now here and there. It’s always easy and never an issue. We have the lifestyle that makes it possible and neither of us begrudge the chance to help out our friends.

Most of the times we have watched the girls it has been during school holidays or for such a short time that regular school days were never really experienced. So, this past week was quite different for me. What is even more shocking – to me – is that it was only for two and a half days that the “school day” duties were in play; it felt like the entire week! πŸ€ͺπŸ˜…

It was having four drives back and forth to do drop off and pick up since they have different timetables. Then, although I didn’t end up having to do any after school activity drives, there was scheduled activities in various locations where one did not have enough time to go home and settle or do much other than kill time somehow, somewhere. Again, the Great Beings above must have been looking out for me as I ended up not having to do any of the after-school chauffeuring. Still, I thought, HOW does anyone do this? Furthermore, how does anyone do this as a single parent?!

By the time, meals were considered – again not really that much of an issue for me as most was leftovers from a well-stocked fridge, or pizza, or the girls took care of themselves -, schedules sorted, homework done, chores completed, a bit of rest and then bedtime activities, I was exhausted. No wonder parents are often sleep-deprived or feel unfulfilled in their own selves! Kids require a lot of energy and time so that it is hard to carve out space for the self. I applaud all parents who survive the experience with well-behaved kids, and I sit in awe of those who manage to successfully get through more challenging children.

So, while it was worth it to see friends and spend some time with lovely tween/teens, I confirm I made the right choice in not having kids. It is not that I think I wouldn’t have enjoyed it. Nor, is it that I think I wouldn’t have been a great mother. I mean, I do love kids and they seem to think I’m alright for an adult. πŸ€ͺ It’s that I am proud of the fact that I have traveled and been exposed to different cultures, people, environments. I love that I discovered who I am, who I want to be, and my own limits/boundaries early in life rather than having a midlife or identity crisis later. I am glad I can take the time to do the things I want to, to develop myself, to only have to share space and time with M rather than an ongoing draining of energy to try to dole out evenly to nurture healthy humans.

It is satisfying in a way to feel affirmed in my decision to take the path less traveled. These days, any “motherly” tendencies I might have get poured out to my little pups that I adore – probably way more than I would have my own children…. Ha!

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Oct 182022
 

A common and fair question when we first meet people is to ask what one does – for work, for life, for whatever. For years, that was a safe and easy question to answer with no unintended nuances like ‘where are you from’ can hold. I knew how to answer it directly and, though, I rarely got more than an ‘I see’ when stating that I taught English as a second/foreign language, at least it was clear-cut and obvious.

These days, it is harder to give a plain response to this same question. Part of it is that we live in Italy on basically a retirement visa that means we cannot legally work nor earn income outside of a passive source like investments or pensions. Part of it is that I do a number of things.

Recently, I found myself saying first “Not much of anything”, but then upon a quick reflection I realized that was a lie. I actually do a lot of things. I just don’t know how to sum it up into an uncomplicated answer that most want to hear.

Up until recently, I was running an online platform – The Universal Asian -, which wasn’t breaking visa rules since it really made no income. It still wasn’t easy to explain what it was I did, but at least it had a tangible output that one could get their head around, i.e. I ran a website. I also do some paid freelance work that is perhaps technically breaking visa rules, but it cannot be directly tracked, so there’s that. However, what I mostly do is write.

So, I corrected my response to “I write.”

To that, I get a head nod; and then like when I used to claim teaching as my profession, the inquisitor moves on.

With others, when I have tested out such a response but with more detail like “I am writing a couple of books”, I get more interested expected return inquiries like “Oh, what are they about?”

Still, I suppose the real point is that I am not always certain as to what I DO.

It is a strange place in life these days as I feel far too young to be considered ‘retired’ and far too old to be in the peak of my profession – though I suppose I could have been had I stayed in education. Although many, including myself, would say it is not too late to reinvent oneself, I am still working on what that invention is meant to be.

I do appreciate that it is a kind of luxury to have such a challenge. However, I also acknowledge that it probably is not so uncommon for one, especially women, to ponder how to sum up what one does in life into a few comprehensible words.

It used to boggle my mind what a person does when they no longer commute to and from work, spend their days in the professional space, come home to family and dinner in the evenings, and spend weekends catching up on errands, house maintenance, and occasionally socializing with friends. I mean, that is what we consider a conventional, normal life, right? What else would we expect one to do, really?

Yet, I find that not only unsatisfactory, but also boring AF! I know – I apologize if that offends.

Now that my life is on more slow motion, I can reflect back. The truth is THAT was exactly the kind of life I did have – just in a different country. These days, my commute consists of bed to kitchen to desk via my slippered feet. My time spent in a ‘professional space’ is only determined by my mood, the length of my self-imposed todo list and motivation. My evenings are generally quiet with an early dinner usually made by my husband. Socializing, errands, and all the rest are done depending on my day, my mood, my motivation, and the like but never limited to weekends or holidays. In short, only a semi-tweaked version of the conventional and normal.

Yet, that little tweak makes me pause and question.

Perhaps, it is the off-handed statement directed at me by a certain someone – “I probably don’t respect or take seriously what you do.” Now, I know that sounds harsh. In his defense, he was somewhat joking and he wasn’t trying to be offensive towards me. It was just a thinking aloud comment that held truth. I personally was not upset by the words. Instead, I realized I probably felt the same.

As a holder of a master’s degree in teaching from a well-respected higher education institution, I felt purposeful in my explanation of how I pass my days. However, now as one who works on occasion, writes all the time but makes no income from it, I question my value. Society, and therefore most people, value our activities in life dependent upon the amount of money we make from time spent on something. Thus, there is less respect and seriousness surrounding the idea that one can spend time doing meaningful things that does not earn much income let alone no income at all.

Furthermore, it is not exactly as if we have no money woes (as you will know if you’ve been reading here for a while) nor that we have suddenly become filthy rich and thus the idea of making money is moot. However, it is exactly that we really don’t have much money woes and once our house is paid off, or at least a solution for paying it is sorted (nearly there), “we” make enough money to enjoy life fully. Therefore, my own income stream is for me alone.

So, if I choose to do those things that do not generate monetary value, does it mean that I actually do nothing?

Obviously, we want to say, “Of course not!” Angel voices might even raise fists of support to happily encourage a beating of the system shouting, “You go girl! Live your best life. Do what you’re passionate about.” Meanwhile devil voices might whisper the words of Emile Calvet, Megan Draper’s father in Mad Men, “…I see you skipped the struggle and went right to the end…it is not because someone else deserves it, but because it is bad for your soul…I hate that you gave up….”

So, I wonder, did I give up? Did I skip the struggle?

Or, was it that the struggle and process was just slightly tweaked from the conventional and normal?

Maybe, what I DO now is what I have always wanted to be doing and I’m just struggling to accept it as my new reality…?

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Oct 062022
 

Life is a constant up and down like a seesaw.

When I first saw the Korean version of this weird balancing device, I was confused as to why they would consider it play to ask kids/players to stand on the balancing board rather than sit as is the US way of play. I mean, talk about accidents waiting to happen! Over time, I came to appreciate the fact that play is really the teaching of real-life in a more protected, light-hearted, and experiential way. How much more directly can you find a way to learn that you need to find balance to stay up and you have to trust your partner not to knock you off the small little board. If either of you wavers, both are prone to a potential accident.

Also, I found that once one learned the art of the balance between two players, there was a lot more freedom in how one “flies” when the skill is mastered – just do a Google search for images and videos of how these players fly, somersault, and jump in the air.

Unfortunately, I never was brave enough to let anyone jump so much on the board that my feet left it, and am a little sad to admit that I really don’t like the idea of free-flying through the air without all kinds of safety equipment attached to me and below me. My risk-taking approval has a lot of qualifying requirements.

Still, the art of balance is often found in the ability to compromise. This compromise often requires a step forward and out rather than digging heels in with stubborn selfishness.

This week I was meant to go to Florence for another Writing Mini-Retreat on my own. I had booked everything, researched where to go, and was preparing myself mentally when I noticed M had a greyness floating over him for a couple of days. He has a constant state of stress around him anyway related to house financing, so I initially attributed his aura to that. However, when nothing was lifting it I asked directly to which he poured out his frustration on spending money always going out.

A regular point of contention between us is that life requires this outflow of funds. We cannot leave the house without spending money as that is the nature of experiencing life – no matter where we go or what we do. Things cost money. We cannot stay isolated in our home any more than we already do and my own ability to make an income is limited. Since this is the reality, I do not want to feel as if I am a captive in the house or a kept woman when it comes to living life – even if it is somewhat true.

So, when he openly confessed that he felt frustrated that it was going to cost money for me to go to Florence or for him to travel or for us to buy things that we need aside from food, I initially felt irritated. However, with some time and space, I admitted to myself that I didn’t necessarily need to go to Florence as I could try to do my writing locally to save our funds so that he could use the money to take his own break. Since I knew that asking him if he preferred me to do this would result in circular conversation, I made an executive decision to cancel everything for the trip. Luckily, I have long-learned that everything I book should have easy cancellation even if it costs a bit more.

In doing so, M initially tried to deflect and push back his sense of guilt for my action. However, I simply told him to just accept it, but not rub my face in it. I made the decision. I was OK with that decision. I also did not want to be reminded that I could have made a different one.

Through this decision, something magical happened. He reflected. Although he may not say so or realize it consciously, I know that me “sacrificing” the trip caused him to re-evaluate his view on our spending money. Taking our house payment issues out of the equation, we have more than enough money to save and spend reasonably. There is no need for us to feel like captives in our own (almost) house. There is no need for us to begrudge each other the desire to spend or go away for a few days to do the things that we want to do. We can afford it and we need – to some degree – to do it for both of our sanities.

So, like with a seesaw, we have to learn to trust each other and take turns as we allow the other to fly, jump, somersault, and soar in the air with the belief that the board will always be strong below to let us land safely.

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

Oct 042022
 

Of late, I have been questioning my purpose in this life. When I was heavily into the world of Christian teachings β›ͺ️, I was convinced my place in the “body of Christ” ✝️ was the butt or bottoms of the feet 🦢🏼; wherever it was that people squashed and used taking the place for granted in its purpose. They are still very important parts of the body, but greatly unappreciated. So, for the most part I have found contentment as that being my general role in the whole of society. πŸ‘ŒπŸ½

When I read about Buddhism, I accepted the belief that suffering is just a part of life. Through meditation πŸ§˜πŸ½β€β™€οΈ and yoga, I found that I could cope with the varying degrees of “suffering” that ebb and flow.

However, I am still human and imperfect. My ego wants there to be more than suffering or being the brunt-end of the greater whole. It is in this desire that I struggle.

For the most part, I do not put much stock into human beings. Everyone is fallible – myself included. Everyone will disappoint – myself included. Everyone will be a weakness at some point or another – myself included.

In partnering with another human, we have a tendency to let ourselves believe that person is infallible, will never let us down, and will always be our strength. Basically, we put all our eggs in their basket and expect them to cherish, protect, and keep them from breaking at all costs as we would if we had kept them in our own basket. Some couples just get a bigger basket and put all their eggs together, but if anything happens to either one’s eggs they blame the other for not caring sufficiently to keep them safe. Modern day couplings seem to prefer that each one keep their own basket and avoid the sharing of responsibility for the other’s. What all of these scenarios presume is that the baskets are already full. 🧺

Imagine if, instead, we acknowledge we only have a few eggs in our own baskets and together we add to the filling of each other’s with more eggs while still keeping responsibility and control over our own baskets. Wouldn’t that be more satisfying and less controlled by another, or at least, avoid a sense of co/dependency?

I know – it’s an ideal more than a reality.

Also, I digress. I mean, how does holding on to our own baskets and helping each other fill them up have anything to do with our purpose of existence?

Well, I recently did a search on how to avoid depression or what to do when one has suicidal thoughts and is looking for purpose. It was more for research on my novel, but also somewhat related to my own thought patterns of late – not to worry, though I’m OK, I promise. πŸ₯°

Still, I found the online advice to be rather useless. πŸ™„ Advice like: find something to be grateful for and focus on that; do something good for others rather than focusing on yourself; reach out to others; etc. are good points, but honestly I call BS on their efficacy. πŸ€¦πŸ½β€β™€οΈ

For one thing, someone who is on an emotional and mental decline will struggle with the first two suggestions as it takes quite a bit of motivation to take action on something. The latter is probably ideal, but to be honest, I can count on two fingers ✌🏽, or maybe even just one ☝🏽, the number of people whom I could reach out to and trust that they would actually listen to me: without judgment, offer of advice, or compare my woes with their own, as feedback to me. Although I never participate in FB posts that say something like “I’d like to see if at least five people will respond to this post as a reaction to suicide awareness or acknowledgment of depression…“, I do not disagree with the sentiment behind them – I just don’t like FB posting that much. πŸ€ͺ

The fact is that people have their own lives, are figuring out how to survive their own woes, and also mistakenly think they are the only ones experiencing their thoughts and challenges in a world that celebrates the image of “having it all together” or living the perfect life. Therefore, we have somewhat lost the art of getting together for a cup of tea/coffee and sharing with each other the frustrations, challenges, and angst that is called life.

Although I do think I am the most important person in my world, I also know that I am NOT the most important person in others’ worlds. As much as I think that is strange, I respect it. 😜 So, I am trying to revert my mind back to a sense of calm and acceptance as to the importance of being the backside or bottom part – I mean you try imagining sitting down without a soft cushy bum or walk without the bottoms of your feet. I am also reaching out to my one (maybe two) trusted peoples who will let me rant and vent with open-ended ears and love. [Thank you πŸ™πŸ½πŸ₯° – you know who you are!]

Through all of this, I accept “suffering” is a part of life. We are all in it together and together we shall survive if we just give each other a chance to discover our roles/purpose in this life, and give love through compassion where and whenever needed.❀️

~T πŸ”₯πŸ‰β™‹οΈ

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