Glancing out the window, I see only shades of grey, white, and brown.
Considering it's late in the afternoon on a frigid day near the end of January in western New York, this observation probably doesn't stun most of you.
It's that lovely time of year when, rather predictably, almost everyone in this small (did I mention frigid yet?!) corner of the world is slowly sliding towards negativity and sheer dullness.
Too much greyness, you see, silently but effectively wears a person out. It's hard to notice it happening, unless you're watching carefully for it.
You begin to fray around the edges, unraveling a tiny bit at a time. Imperceptibly, tirelessly, it whittles away at your energy, your creativity, even your sense of wonder surrounding life and this wide, wide world.
Not coincidentally, I noticed a lot of articles pop up in magazines and on the internet about "how to be happy." At the same time - and this was an actual coincidence - I read a book that explored happiness and success, and it laid out a formula (or series of steps, I guess) explaining how a person can reach that state.
The underlying theme in all these readings is about how happiness (and success, I suppose, since they were grouped together by some of these self-help writers) is a choice. Simple as that. It's a conscious shift in perception in which you choose to focus on the positive, keep moving forward, and throw off all your baggage from the past.
To some degree, I can agree with that. I've seen people who consistently choose to be miserable and discontent, fixated on the negative and refusing to open their eyes to all the good that surrounds them. I've also witnessed people in awful circumstances who choose to see the best in their situation and continue clinging to those crazy sentiments of hope, contentedness, and joy.
But right now, in this place, it's so grey.
Can happiness truly be reduced to a simple choice? Going with this idea a little further, is depression just some weakness of the mind? This is where I don't buy the simplified theory that happiness is purely a choice. You see, there's a girl I know who has been diagnosed with depression. She's a wonderfully kind human being (much nicer than me); I could hardly imagine meeting anyone more thoughtful and generous. I struggle to believe she's made a choice to be unhappy.
Greyness - whether the physical grey I used to describe my environment in late January in western New York, or the greyness that descends on a person who's chronically falling into depression - doesn't seem to always respond to our "choice" to be happy or not. Yes, I think some people decide to be grumpy about anything and everything, while others stick with being unflappably optimistic, but sometimes, greyness just settles in for a long, unwelcome stay.
I've never experienced the greyness that settles into a person's soul, blocking out the joy and hope that belong there, but I'm guessing it's something like the endless grey sky I'm peering at outside. There's no end in any direction and little variation in the bland color that stretches over the snow-covered landscape, but there's one thing I'm certain of.
Somewhere behind that formidable grey expanse, there's a sun waiting to burst through.
1.30.2011
1.17.2011
me: 1, procrastination: 0 (for today, at least)
Procrastination is one of my oldest and most faithful friends. It's followed me from birth right up to this very day. It's a strange friend, since it's appearance constantly shifts. The most common, and therefore dull, form is facebook. (Anyone with internet access could tell you that.) That form leaves you feeling empty, bored, and vaguely confused about how you ended up on your best friend's cousin's boyfriend's former roommate's brother's facebook page. Don't even try and deny that hasn't happened to you.
There are certainly more positive forms that Procrastination can take. For instance, sometimes I manage to get other work done (not the work that's the priority though, of course). Avoiding whatever it is that I need to do often results in me cleaning, reading, cooking, organizing, exercising...which are all good for me in the long run.
One of my favorite forms of Procrastination is looking back into the past. I'm hopelessly nostalgic, and I love to look at old pictures and read old journals and letters. Life is so much easier to comprehend when you look back on it - as opposed to whatever opaque, complex situation you might find yourself in at the present.
Anyway, my dear old friend Procrastination came around this weekend. I have been "working on" my applications to North Park's Seminary and Business School for about five months now, and was determined to finish them off this weekend. I pulled both applications out yesterday to check what still needed to be completed and if anything needed some final editing. My Seminary application was done and I was satisfied with it, but I still needed to finish the essay for the Business school application. I decided to get that done by tonight.
Well, after going out to coffee with friends, then going to the gym (for the record, I dearly love BOTH those forms of procrastination), I sat down at my computer.
And I thought about blogging.
That's right. This very blog almost became the next form of Procrastination. Luckily, I couldn't settle on what I should write about, so I finally gave in and finished my essay.
Take that, Procrastination. Don't feel too bad; you win every morning when it's time to get out of bed, so you'll be taking me down in about 7 1/2 hours.
There are certainly more positive forms that Procrastination can take. For instance, sometimes I manage to get other work done (not the work that's the priority though, of course). Avoiding whatever it is that I need to do often results in me cleaning, reading, cooking, organizing, exercising...which are all good for me in the long run.
One of my favorite forms of Procrastination is looking back into the past. I'm hopelessly nostalgic, and I love to look at old pictures and read old journals and letters. Life is so much easier to comprehend when you look back on it - as opposed to whatever opaque, complex situation you might find yourself in at the present.
Anyway, my dear old friend Procrastination came around this weekend. I have been "working on" my applications to North Park's Seminary and Business School for about five months now, and was determined to finish them off this weekend. I pulled both applications out yesterday to check what still needed to be completed and if anything needed some final editing. My Seminary application was done and I was satisfied with it, but I still needed to finish the essay for the Business school application. I decided to get that done by tonight.
Well, after going out to coffee with friends, then going to the gym (for the record, I dearly love BOTH those forms of procrastination), I sat down at my computer.
And I thought about blogging.
That's right. This very blog almost became the next form of Procrastination. Luckily, I couldn't settle on what I should write about, so I finally gave in and finished my essay.
Take that, Procrastination. Don't feel too bad; you win every morning when it's time to get out of bed, so you'll be taking me down in about 7 1/2 hours.
1.02.2011
maintaining sanity
Now that the whirlwind that was the last two weeks of my life has died down a bit, I can get back to this ridiculous blogging phase.
The last half of December was wonderfully filled up with people, trips, and parties (and a surprisingly small amount of time at work). It felt surreal. Carefree. Honestly though, it could have been a trainwreck.
The holidays have a two-sided reputation. They're either portrayed as this magical, sparkly time of family-bonding, cookie-eating, carol-singing, peace-on-earth-goodwill-towards-men utopia...or they're labeled as a pseudo-apocalypse in which the entire family is alternating between frantically popping pills, shopping, cooking, cleaning, and having meltdowns before the New Year even hits.
This year, I found a good balance between those two opposing circumstances. I somehow managed to both find the time to slow down and break from my ridiculously packed schedule and also have a great time with dozens of people I love and never get to see enough of. Ultimately, I was able to run around and have an amazing time without losing my head. Looking back, there's a few key things that made this balance work:
1. I prioritized my people.
To clarify..that doesn't mean that I went through and ranked all the people I could've seen, crossing ones off the list that I didn't feel like being around. However, I knew who I absolutely HAD to see and I made sure it happened. My parents got me all to themselves for an entire six days. And they didn't even get sick of me. Favorite child? Obviously..
2. I learned to say no!
This one's difficult. So many people to see in only a couple days....it's a mathmatical nightmare trying to figure out how to add hours to a day that's already full. Plus, I definitely stayed out past my grown-up bedtime pretty much every day last week. As New Years Eve approached and I started to figure out my plans, I realized that if I spent another night up until obscene hours of the morning, there was a good chance I'd die within the first week of January. I ended up turning down invitations to 3 parties and instead stayed in for the night with two of my best friends. Not a bad way to start off 2011:)
3. I stayed spontaneous.
As I'm sure I've said before, routines and schedules make me choke a little. I don't want to end up as an uptight, deadline-obsessed, always-color-in-the-lines-or-SO-HELP-ME-GOD kind of girl. Maybe I should eventually be on time for things. Maybe not. Either way, I let myself make plans on the go a lot over the holidays, such as last night. I started at Starbucks with a bunch of friends from camp, but Sarah, Sondra, and I ended up letting Todd convince us to go to the Flipside Cafe in Bemus. He challenged us to a round of Just Dance on the Wii...which I'd normally turn down...but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Todd ended up schooling us all.
4. I drank an unholy amount of caffeine.
If people try and tell you that caffeine's bad for you, tune them out. They clearly don't know what they're talking about. You can nod and smile if you'd like, but don't listen to all the lies pouring out of their mouth. The truth is, caffeine helps me every single day of my life. Especially during the holidays. All the sleep I never got was quickly and easily replaced by the multiple coffee drinks I consumed throughout the day.
The moral of the story is, if you follow these four steps next year, the holidays won't own you. In fact, you might even like them.
The last half of December was wonderfully filled up with people, trips, and parties (and a surprisingly small amount of time at work). It felt surreal. Carefree. Honestly though, it could have been a trainwreck.
The holidays have a two-sided reputation. They're either portrayed as this magical, sparkly time of family-bonding, cookie-eating, carol-singing, peace-on-earth-goodwill-towards-men utopia...or they're labeled as a pseudo-apocalypse in which the entire family is alternating between frantically popping pills, shopping, cooking, cleaning, and having meltdowns before the New Year even hits.
This year, I found a good balance between those two opposing circumstances. I somehow managed to both find the time to slow down and break from my ridiculously packed schedule and also have a great time with dozens of people I love and never get to see enough of. Ultimately, I was able to run around and have an amazing time without losing my head. Looking back, there's a few key things that made this balance work:
1. I prioritized my people.
To clarify..that doesn't mean that I went through and ranked all the people I could've seen, crossing ones off the list that I didn't feel like being around. However, I knew who I absolutely HAD to see and I made sure it happened. My parents got me all to themselves for an entire six days. And they didn't even get sick of me. Favorite child? Obviously..
2. I learned to say no!
This one's difficult. So many people to see in only a couple days....it's a mathmatical nightmare trying to figure out how to add hours to a day that's already full. Plus, I definitely stayed out past my grown-up bedtime pretty much every day last week. As New Years Eve approached and I started to figure out my plans, I realized that if I spent another night up until obscene hours of the morning, there was a good chance I'd die within the first week of January. I ended up turning down invitations to 3 parties and instead stayed in for the night with two of my best friends. Not a bad way to start off 2011:)
3. I stayed spontaneous.
As I'm sure I've said before, routines and schedules make me choke a little. I don't want to end up as an uptight, deadline-obsessed, always-color-in-the-lines-or-SO-HELP-ME-GOD kind of girl. Maybe I should eventually be on time for things. Maybe not. Either way, I let myself make plans on the go a lot over the holidays, such as last night. I started at Starbucks with a bunch of friends from camp, but Sarah, Sondra, and I ended up letting Todd convince us to go to the Flipside Cafe in Bemus. He challenged us to a round of Just Dance on the Wii...which I'd normally turn down...but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Todd ended up schooling us all.
4. I drank an unholy amount of caffeine.
If people try and tell you that caffeine's bad for you, tune them out. They clearly don't know what they're talking about. You can nod and smile if you'd like, but don't listen to all the lies pouring out of their mouth. The truth is, caffeine helps me every single day of my life. Especially during the holidays. All the sleep I never got was quickly and easily replaced by the multiple coffee drinks I consumed throughout the day.
The moral of the story is, if you follow these four steps next year, the holidays won't own you. In fact, you might even like them.
12.13.2010
taking back mondays
Waking up this morning was brutal.
I hit the snooze button for at least a half an hour, then anxiously peered outside, hoping to see a roaring blizzard decimating Jamestown and making the streets impassable. The few snowflakes that were lightly drifting past my window instantaneously crushed my dreams and snapped me back to reality.
It was Monday, and I unfortunately needed to act my age, give up the hope of a Snow Day, and get my act together. Fast.
I'm generally not the type of person who wastes all Sunday dreading the impending Monday and then spends all Monday complaining about what day it is. [Way too many of those people exist..hopefully not you?] I typically don't have much patience for whining, mainly because as a soulless, cold-hearted pragmatist, I know that whining gets you nowhere in the end.
However, Mondays are far from being my favorite day of the week. With that in mind, I've been curious as to how I can boost Mondays up a bit - make them a little more interesting, a little more fun, a little less depressing. After all, it's not like Mondays are going away anytime soon.
Here are a few ways [from simple and practical, to rather complex and entirely impractical] that I decided Mondays can be improved:
We had both just returned from a semester away from Meadville - Angela in England, me in DC and the Balkans - and we were suffering from a combination of cabin fever, way-too-much-work syndrome, and I'm-bored-in-a-small-town syndrome. That deadly combination of illnesses may have affected our sanity a few times that semester. However, the end result of all our crazy/brilliant scheming was beautiful - we decided that our only life goal was to commandeer a pirate ship, [obviously] becoming co-captains of the ship, and sailing the high seas until we felt like settling down somewhere. Which would be never.
That thought alone has made this cold, gray Monday a whole lot brighter.
I hit the snooze button for at least a half an hour, then anxiously peered outside, hoping to see a roaring blizzard decimating Jamestown and making the streets impassable. The few snowflakes that were lightly drifting past my window instantaneously crushed my dreams and snapped me back to reality.
It was Monday, and I unfortunately needed to act my age, give up the hope of a Snow Day, and get my act together. Fast.
I'm generally not the type of person who wastes all Sunday dreading the impending Monday and then spends all Monday complaining about what day it is. [Way too many of those people exist..hopefully not you?] I typically don't have much patience for whining, mainly because as a soulless, cold-hearted pragmatist, I know that whining gets you nowhere in the end.
However, Mondays are far from being my favorite day of the week. With that in mind, I've been curious as to how I can boost Mondays up a bit - make them a little more interesting, a little more fun, a little less depressing. After all, it's not like Mondays are going away anytime soon.
Here are a few ways [from simple and practical, to rather complex and entirely impractical] that I decided Mondays can be improved:
- Movie night Mondays
- Mandatory half-day Mondays
- Map out your next vacation Mondays
We had both just returned from a semester away from Meadville - Angela in England, me in DC and the Balkans - and we were suffering from a combination of cabin fever, way-too-much-work syndrome, and I'm-bored-in-a-small-town syndrome. That deadly combination of illnesses may have affected our sanity a few times that semester. However, the end result of all our crazy/brilliant scheming was beautiful - we decided that our only life goal was to commandeer a pirate ship, [obviously] becoming co-captains of the ship, and sailing the high seas until we felt like settling down somewhere. Which would be never.
That thought alone has made this cold, gray Monday a whole lot brighter.
12.05.2010
surviving winter in western new york
Over the last few days, it's become apparent that winter has officially checked in. The snow won't stop falling, my car has basically become a mobile ice box [whose windows will be frozen shut until at least April], Christmas decorations have taken over the apartment, and Jamestown had its annual Christmas Parade this weekend.
That's right. For those of you who weren't aware, Jamestown, NY has its very own Chrismas Parade. I was talked into going last year, and frankly, I was curious to see what on earth was going to be paraded through the streets of Jamestown. After a performance outside City Hall by the 10,000 Maniacs, one of the few claims-to-fame held by this small city, I was startled to hear a loud whirring noise coming from the sky above me. I glanced up, horrified as a low-flying helicopter swooped over the crowd gathered for the parade. The scene in front of me instantly turned to chaos as everyone grabbed onto their hats and anything else that could be blown away by the gale force winds sweeping through the streets in the helicopter's wake. As it flew off into the distance, we all breathed a sigh of relief and talked incredulously about what a miscalculated decision it was to have a helicopter practically divebomb the crowd. Aaand then it came back to do another flyby. Apparently the helicopter was there to add something (I'm not sure what) to the parade's atmosphere.
Merry Christmas Jamestown.
Needless to say, I didn't end up at this year's parade. I wasn't feeling the greatest [sidenote: another sign that winter is here - everyone's getting the flu], and I didn't mind having an excuse to miss standing outside in the cold for 2 hours as helicopters wreaked havoc on downtown Jamestown.
Instead I got to stay home and watch a movie. This leads to my first piece of advice on how to survive winter in western NY: have a large cache of movies onhand at all times. You never know when you're going to be snowed in or catch a flu/cold/some kind of sickness that knocks you off your feet. Holiday-themed movies are only good for another three weeks from today, so get started on them if you haven't already! There's a lot of great ones: Elf, Home Alone [1 and 2 only, 3 is pretty wretched], White Christmas, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Miracle on 34th Street, A Muppet Christmas Carol, It's a Wonderful Life, or my family's personal favorite....Chevy Chase Christmas Vacation [cause we're classy like that].
Advice #2 on how to survive winter conveniently relates to something we all do while watching movies: eating. Have large amounts of food stocked up in your kitchen. Just because humans are supposedly more civilized than other creatures and can [in theory] drive to a grocery store at any time to get more food, it's a good idea to follow the example set by squirrels and other small, hoarding animals to have piles of food stacked up in your cupboards. Not only do storms leave us stuck in our homes for days at a time, but honestly, people get lazy in the winter. Most of our social activity during the months when an arctic freeze has settled over this area revolves around excessive eating and drinking with friends. Then, in March, as we suddenly recollect that it will be warm again one day, we all start gravitating towards the gym to undo the damage we've done over the past four months.
My third piece of advice on how to survive winter directly contradicts what I just said. Join a gym! Just because it's basically expected that western New Yorkers will pile on layers of heavy clothing to hide the damage that too much eggnog [gross] and cookies have done to their bodies, it doesn't have to end that way. If you hate running...as most people admit to when they're being honest...take a class or something. Yoga, zumba, kickboxing - the Y even has something called Bootcamp. It sounds dreadfully painful, but at least it's more interesting than running.
My last piece of advice, which is probably impractical for most people - take trips down south to give yourself breaks from the Arctic Tundra that settles over the area from December through April. Conveniently, my parents live in South Carolina, in a town with the sickeningly sweet name of Summerville. [The anti-Jamestown? Possibly.] I've already made it down to Summerville once last month, and I'll be back in a couple weeks over Christmas. Stepping out of the airport down there always feels surreal, in a good sort of way. The humid, warm air and the nearly constant presence of sunlight surprises me and makes me re-evaluate the pros and cons of life as a beach bum. That thought in turn leads me to imagine how rapidly my sanity would digress if I actually did that. I'm not exactly a Southern girl, and there's this crazy stubborn streak in me that makes me stick up for New York despite its painfully long winters [and disgraceful state government...but that's a topic I really don't want to touch].
For better or for worse [mostly for better, I've gotta say], New York's home right now. After a few months of snow and ice, I may become treacherous and start dreaming of places where the sun shines and I would see colors other than white, grey, and black outside my window, but for now, I'm content peering outside at streets covered with snow as more flakes spiral quietly down from the night sky.
That's right. For those of you who weren't aware, Jamestown, NY has its very own Chrismas Parade. I was talked into going last year, and frankly, I was curious to see what on earth was going to be paraded through the streets of Jamestown. After a performance outside City Hall by the 10,000 Maniacs, one of the few claims-to-fame held by this small city, I was startled to hear a loud whirring noise coming from the sky above me. I glanced up, horrified as a low-flying helicopter swooped over the crowd gathered for the parade. The scene in front of me instantly turned to chaos as everyone grabbed onto their hats and anything else that could be blown away by the gale force winds sweeping through the streets in the helicopter's wake. As it flew off into the distance, we all breathed a sigh of relief and talked incredulously about what a miscalculated decision it was to have a helicopter practically divebomb the crowd. Aaand then it came back to do another flyby. Apparently the helicopter was there to add something (I'm not sure what) to the parade's atmosphere.
Merry Christmas Jamestown.
Needless to say, I didn't end up at this year's parade. I wasn't feeling the greatest [sidenote: another sign that winter is here - everyone's getting the flu], and I didn't mind having an excuse to miss standing outside in the cold for 2 hours as helicopters wreaked havoc on downtown Jamestown.
Instead I got to stay home and watch a movie. This leads to my first piece of advice on how to survive winter in western NY: have a large cache of movies onhand at all times. You never know when you're going to be snowed in or catch a flu/cold/some kind of sickness that knocks you off your feet. Holiday-themed movies are only good for another three weeks from today, so get started on them if you haven't already! There's a lot of great ones: Elf, Home Alone [1 and 2 only, 3 is pretty wretched], White Christmas, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Miracle on 34th Street, A Muppet Christmas Carol, It's a Wonderful Life, or my family's personal favorite....Chevy Chase Christmas Vacation [cause we're classy like that].
Advice #2 on how to survive winter conveniently relates to something we all do while watching movies: eating. Have large amounts of food stocked up in your kitchen. Just because humans are supposedly more civilized than other creatures and can [in theory] drive to a grocery store at any time to get more food, it's a good idea to follow the example set by squirrels and other small, hoarding animals to have piles of food stacked up in your cupboards. Not only do storms leave us stuck in our homes for days at a time, but honestly, people get lazy in the winter. Most of our social activity during the months when an arctic freeze has settled over this area revolves around excessive eating and drinking with friends. Then, in March, as we suddenly recollect that it will be warm again one day, we all start gravitating towards the gym to undo the damage we've done over the past four months.
My third piece of advice on how to survive winter directly contradicts what I just said. Join a gym! Just because it's basically expected that western New Yorkers will pile on layers of heavy clothing to hide the damage that too much eggnog [gross] and cookies have done to their bodies, it doesn't have to end that way. If you hate running...as most people admit to when they're being honest...take a class or something. Yoga, zumba, kickboxing - the Y even has something called Bootcamp. It sounds dreadfully painful, but at least it's more interesting than running.
My last piece of advice, which is probably impractical for most people - take trips down south to give yourself breaks from the Arctic Tundra that settles over the area from December through April. Conveniently, my parents live in South Carolina, in a town with the sickeningly sweet name of Summerville. [The anti-Jamestown? Possibly.] I've already made it down to Summerville once last month, and I'll be back in a couple weeks over Christmas. Stepping out of the airport down there always feels surreal, in a good sort of way. The humid, warm air and the nearly constant presence of sunlight surprises me and makes me re-evaluate the pros and cons of life as a beach bum. That thought in turn leads me to imagine how rapidly my sanity would digress if I actually did that. I'm not exactly a Southern girl, and there's this crazy stubborn streak in me that makes me stick up for New York despite its painfully long winters [and disgraceful state government...but that's a topic I really don't want to touch].
For better or for worse [mostly for better, I've gotta say], New York's home right now. After a few months of snow and ice, I may become treacherous and start dreaming of places where the sun shines and I would see colors other than white, grey, and black outside my window, but for now, I'm content peering outside at streets covered with snow as more flakes spiral quietly down from the night sky.
11.22.2010
family matters
In less than two days, my family - parents, sister, brother, and I - will all be together for the first time in nearly a year.
I absolutely cannot wait...I'm so excited for this...but at the same moment, I involuntarily twitch a little. Maybe it's not exactly a visible twitch (aaand maybe it is, you'll never know), but there's an underlying anxiety that accompanies my excitement.
I feel like I need to start this off right by explaining I'm ridiculously stoked for this mini-reunion. Over the last few weeks, I've texted and talked with my family about what we're going to do [Priority #1: HARRY POTTER!..finally. As in, I fly into Charleston at 7 pm Wednesday and we're going to see it that night. Priority #2: Eat as much of my mom's angel food cake as I can possibly fit in my stomach.]
However, beyond the fact I'm obviously looking forward to seeing my family, it's become pretty clear to me over the years that being around family can bring out the best and the worst in me. I [and most other people, I think] rely on the idea that because our family loves us unconditionally - at least in theory - we're free to be ourselves without holding anything back.
I don't know about you, but that doesn't always end well for me. It can get messy once in awhile.
Sometimes, I take it a bit too far. I seem to think I can get away with acting like a straight-up tool, but that in the end, it's ok, because my family will always love me..right? When I'm around my family, I act more impatient, argumentative, even demanding, because I don't feel the need to earn their love as much as when I'm around other people.
The way my family knows and understands me is so different than how anybody else could, even my best friends. [There are so many classic moments that just my family was there for. Such as, when I was learning to ride my bike as a little kid, and kept running into trees because I couldn't see a flipping thing. Good times.]
I think the difference stems from how the relationships begin: family is something most people are gifted with at birth. It's a type of relationship I take for granted and assume will always endure. Friendships are something you have to pursue, earn, and invest in. You're more conscious of how you act and how you present yourselves to people how aren't obligated to like you. Also, you're aware that friendships are likely to end fast if you start acting like a tool. Act like a jerk to your friends, you run the risk of losing them. Act like a jerk to your family, and (though it obviously won't be a pretty situation) at the end of the day, you're still unalterably connected.
Sooo this Thanksgiving, I'm going to try and treat my family more like friends. [Next step: treat friends like family??..or not. At least not when it comes to acting like a tool more frequently around them.] Luckily, my brother's bringing his girlfriend to South Carolina with him so we can finally meet her! Consequently, we should all be better behaved than normal. Hopefully.
On second thought, I'm already thinking of a few FANTASTIC embarrassing stories about Little Kevin that would make for an excellent dinner conversation.....
I absolutely cannot wait...I'm so excited for this...but at the same moment, I involuntarily twitch a little. Maybe it's not exactly a visible twitch (aaand maybe it is, you'll never know), but there's an underlying anxiety that accompanies my excitement.
I feel like I need to start this off right by explaining I'm ridiculously stoked for this mini-reunion. Over the last few weeks, I've texted and talked with my family about what we're going to do [Priority #1: HARRY POTTER!..finally. As in, I fly into Charleston at 7 pm Wednesday and we're going to see it that night. Priority #2: Eat as much of my mom's angel food cake as I can possibly fit in my stomach.]
However, beyond the fact I'm obviously looking forward to seeing my family, it's become pretty clear to me over the years that being around family can bring out the best and the worst in me. I [and most other people, I think] rely on the idea that because our family loves us unconditionally - at least in theory - we're free to be ourselves without holding anything back.
I don't know about you, but that doesn't always end well for me. It can get messy once in awhile.
Sometimes, I take it a bit too far. I seem to think I can get away with acting like a straight-up tool, but that in the end, it's ok, because my family will always love me..right? When I'm around my family, I act more impatient, argumentative, even demanding, because I don't feel the need to earn their love as much as when I'm around other people.
The way my family knows and understands me is so different than how anybody else could, even my best friends. [There are so many classic moments that just my family was there for. Such as, when I was learning to ride my bike as a little kid, and kept running into trees because I couldn't see a flipping thing. Good times.]
I think the difference stems from how the relationships begin: family is something most people are gifted with at birth. It's a type of relationship I take for granted and assume will always endure. Friendships are something you have to pursue, earn, and invest in. You're more conscious of how you act and how you present yourselves to people how aren't obligated to like you. Also, you're aware that friendships are likely to end fast if you start acting like a tool. Act like a jerk to your friends, you run the risk of losing them. Act like a jerk to your family, and (though it obviously won't be a pretty situation) at the end of the day, you're still unalterably connected.
Sooo this Thanksgiving, I'm going to try and treat my family more like friends. [Next step: treat friends like family??..or not. At least not when it comes to acting like a tool more frequently around them.] Luckily, my brother's bringing his girlfriend to South Carolina with him so we can finally meet her! Consequently, we should all be better behaved than normal. Hopefully.
On second thought, I'm already thinking of a few FANTASTIC embarrassing stories about Little Kevin that would make for an excellent dinner conversation.....
11.18.2010
lost causes
So I know the title implies that this blog is going to suck all the happiness out of your life, but I swear that's not what I'm aiming for. I only chose to write about lost causes tonight because this theme repeatedly broke into my day.
When it comes to lost causes, desperate circumstances, tragic situations, or sad stories, I honestly feel like I am numb towards them in a way. Having studied history in college, I have read literally thousands upon thousands of pages in books that spell out in stark detail the most terrible things that humans have done to each other. I've visited the sites of mass graves in the former Yugoslavia and spoke with people who survived the war in the 90s and experienced heart-shattering things. When it comes to depressing situations or stories where people are victimized or oppressed, there isn't much that can shock me anymore.
During my normal workday, I tend to hear about a lot of sad and frustrating situations. [I feel like I need to mention that they're not all tragic...some can be downright entertaining. Like the woman who called and asked me if she could do a citizen's arrest on her neighbors because they were being too loud. I almost said yes just to see what would happen..] For any of you who don't know, I work at a non-profit law firm that helps people at or near the poverty line with certain civil legal issues. Most of our work involves landlord/tenant disputes, foreclosures, bankruptcies, divorces, issues with social services, etc. My job is to speak with potential clients, get the facts of the situation, and see if we can take their case.
Basically, they end up telling me all the gritty details of their depressing circumstances and ask for our help. I swear, I am going to petition my boss to change my job title to Therapist. [That's at LEAST more accurate than Paralegal, which makes it sound like I know a thing or two about the law. Which I don't.] One woman kept me on the phone for a half an hour the other day, and I'm pretty sure she just paraphrased the same story four different ways and kept repeating it to me. I could literally feel my will to live slipping away as the conversation dragged on and on.
The worst part is, after hearing their story, I'm the one who has to tell them if we can help them or not. If we can't, I try to refer them on to another organization, but we all know how effective referrals are. They end up being referred to every agency and nonprofit under the sun, and in the end get referred back to us, more likely than not. And the wretched cycle begins again.
Some of the people who call in are quite familiar to the office. [They're referred to as Frequent Fliers. They really should form some kind of club.] It's frustrating when they've had 8 or 10 cases already opened with us in the past. These aren't bad people, they're simply the marginalized, the ignored, the lost causes of society. Their lack of education and basic life skills puts them at an incredible disadvantage in every stage of life they're in. The cycle of poverty isn't easy to break or rise above, and anyone who follows the mantra "well why don't they just pull themselves up by their bootstraps like every other American" has clearly never had to face a serious struggle by themselves.
My point in reflecting on all these depressing scenarios is to lead up to a theory on how to deal with lost causes, one that's certainly not original or new to me, but one that I'm trying to make my own. This theory came to me most recently through a letter I received today from the pastor of the boy I sponsor [through Compassion International] in India. The letter talks about the crazy/huge obstacles and struggles faced by this boy's community [yet another kind of lost cause] in rural India and how Compassion sponserships have already begun to make a difference in the area. It concludes by thanking me and saying: "Let us hold each other and care for one another with kind hands" so God can keep transforming the world.
That sentence hit me so hard. No one talks like that these days - at least not ordinary people and definitely not on a regular basis. That idea of 'holding and caring for each other with kind hands' is so striking, different, and so counter-cultural. Compassion, empathy, and kindness aren't nearly as sexy as wealth, beauty, youth, and celebrity to a society that is generally obsessed with the latter things. Standing up for and taking care of the oppressed, the marginalized, and the victimized is not ever going to be as profitable as rubbing shoulders with [and sucking up to] the rich and powerful. However, if my choice is between spending my life looking out first and foremost for #1 - screw everyone else - or refusing to give up on the lost causes, I think I know which way I'm heading.
When it comes to lost causes, desperate circumstances, tragic situations, or sad stories, I honestly feel like I am numb towards them in a way. Having studied history in college, I have read literally thousands upon thousands of pages in books that spell out in stark detail the most terrible things that humans have done to each other. I've visited the sites of mass graves in the former Yugoslavia and spoke with people who survived the war in the 90s and experienced heart-shattering things. When it comes to depressing situations or stories where people are victimized or oppressed, there isn't much that can shock me anymore.
During my normal workday, I tend to hear about a lot of sad and frustrating situations. [I feel like I need to mention that they're not all tragic...some can be downright entertaining. Like the woman who called and asked me if she could do a citizen's arrest on her neighbors because they were being too loud. I almost said yes just to see what would happen..] For any of you who don't know, I work at a non-profit law firm that helps people at or near the poverty line with certain civil legal issues. Most of our work involves landlord/tenant disputes, foreclosures, bankruptcies, divorces, issues with social services, etc. My job is to speak with potential clients, get the facts of the situation, and see if we can take their case.
Basically, they end up telling me all the gritty details of their depressing circumstances and ask for our help. I swear, I am going to petition my boss to change my job title to Therapist. [That's at LEAST more accurate than Paralegal, which makes it sound like I know a thing or two about the law. Which I don't.] One woman kept me on the phone for a half an hour the other day, and I'm pretty sure she just paraphrased the same story four different ways and kept repeating it to me. I could literally feel my will to live slipping away as the conversation dragged on and on.
The worst part is, after hearing their story, I'm the one who has to tell them if we can help them or not. If we can't, I try to refer them on to another organization, but we all know how effective referrals are. They end up being referred to every agency and nonprofit under the sun, and in the end get referred back to us, more likely than not. And the wretched cycle begins again.
Some of the people who call in are quite familiar to the office. [They're referred to as Frequent Fliers. They really should form some kind of club.] It's frustrating when they've had 8 or 10 cases already opened with us in the past. These aren't bad people, they're simply the marginalized, the ignored, the lost causes of society. Their lack of education and basic life skills puts them at an incredible disadvantage in every stage of life they're in. The cycle of poverty isn't easy to break or rise above, and anyone who follows the mantra "well why don't they just pull themselves up by their bootstraps like every other American" has clearly never had to face a serious struggle by themselves.
My point in reflecting on all these depressing scenarios is to lead up to a theory on how to deal with lost causes, one that's certainly not original or new to me, but one that I'm trying to make my own. This theory came to me most recently through a letter I received today from the pastor of the boy I sponsor [through Compassion International] in India. The letter talks about the crazy/huge obstacles and struggles faced by this boy's community [yet another kind of lost cause] in rural India and how Compassion sponserships have already begun to make a difference in the area. It concludes by thanking me and saying: "Let us hold each other and care for one another with kind hands" so God can keep transforming the world.
That sentence hit me so hard. No one talks like that these days - at least not ordinary people and definitely not on a regular basis. That idea of 'holding and caring for each other with kind hands' is so striking, different, and so counter-cultural. Compassion, empathy, and kindness aren't nearly as sexy as wealth, beauty, youth, and celebrity to a society that is generally obsessed with the latter things. Standing up for and taking care of the oppressed, the marginalized, and the victimized is not ever going to be as profitable as rubbing shoulders with [and sucking up to] the rich and powerful. However, if my choice is between spending my life looking out first and foremost for #1 - screw everyone else - or refusing to give up on the lost causes, I think I know which way I'm heading.
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