L.Y. Levand's Blog, page 10
June 6, 2014
It was horrible. It was awful.
...it happens every few months.
I get a good look at the room I share with my two sisters, and realize I've been living in a dump. This moment of horrified realization is usually followed by the sisters responsible for the largest share of the mess being kicked unceremoniously from the room. Which in turn is followed by a mass exodus of what I call "junk" and they call "I WANNA KEEP IT!"
This pile is usually comprised of one part kid's meal toys, one part clothing that no longer fits, three parts toys that haven't been found - let alone played with - for a full month, and two parts trash. Once this stuff is in various bags, waiting to be removed, my sisters begin recovery. And by "recovery" I don't mean "getting over the fact that the room is clean." I mean, they start digging through the bags of stuff that is leaving the house, and trying to find the things they want to keep. You know, the things that they haven't seen for a month and have, apparently, been desperately searching for the whole time.
I spent several hours cleaning all of that up, and there's still stuff to do. But while I was cleaning, something struck me, in between bouts of chasing off siblings and hiding various items I wanted out of the house.
While getting rid of the clutter that had accumulated, and dealing with my sisters wanting to keep every gum wrapper and popsicle stick, I realized that most people have the same problem.
They don't want anything to be gotten rid of.
Their past is still there, clinging in the corners. Memories, past hurts. Or, almost as bad, good memories that they can't let go of to find peace or happiness in their current situation. They hang onto them, refusing to let them go out of fear they'll forget - or that they'll never have ones as good ever again.
Just like people who think that empty plastic peanut butter jars might be "needed" at some point in, oh, ten years, these memories might serve some purpose further on. But it's not worth carrying them around for ten years waiting for that moment. Not if it's going to clutter your mind, your emotional state, your relationships, or your cabinets. It's just not worth it. Surely you'll get another jar of peanut butter in the future.
If it's making your life difficult, or just cluttering things up, then it's time to reevaluate your priorities.
Are you going to keep the cheap plastic Happy Meal toy, or are you going to keep the glass figurine your grandmother gave to you? That spot can only hold one item, and you'd better make sure that item is worth the space you're giving it.
Yeah, you should keep your good memories. But holding onto them like the peanut butter jars, after they're no longer relevant, and giving them space that could be used to store more good memories - how is that a good idea? Get rid of the peanut butter jars (or the popsicle sticks, or the...) and use that space for something that's really worth having.
As valuable as good memories are, they're memories. Pulling them out and playing like they're the present isn't going to help you make new memories. You'll be so busy admiring the ones you've already got that you won't have as much room for new ones. And, unlike the peanut butter jars and popsicle sticks, getting rid of them doesn't mean you'll never see them again. You just remove them from constant perusal so you're free to do other things. You can always pull them out again later.
But, for the most part, the good memories are like the glass figurine. Things worth keeping out in the open, where you can look at them. Some memories, though, need to go away, like my sister's too-small shoes that she wanted to keep. They serve no purpose, and only keep you from enjoying the things that are really important. Like shoes that actually fit.
Keeping everything leads to a cluttered, busy, crazy, cramped life. I don't know about anyone else, but seeing all the feathers vacuumed off my floor was nice. (A certain sister's pillow has a hole in it somewhere.) It was also nice to be able to see the surfaces that had been crammed with junk only this morning. But to see those places, I had to get rid of the stuff in the way.
When those things (feathers, half-full bottles of bubbles) were gone, I could finally see the things I really wanted to see. Like the desktop, the books...the floor. I could also see the really pretty things that I did want to keep, and the higher-quality things I knew my sisters would want later. By removing the junk and the cheap things, the nice things were more obvious and clear. They didn't have to compete with piles of paper, doll clothes, and legos.
So get rid of the things cluttering your life and mind.
Don't dwell on those things. Clear them out.
And don't peek inside the bags. ;)
I get a good look at the room I share with my two sisters, and realize I've been living in a dump. This moment of horrified realization is usually followed by the sisters responsible for the largest share of the mess being kicked unceremoniously from the room. Which in turn is followed by a mass exodus of what I call "junk" and they call "I WANNA KEEP IT!"
This pile is usually comprised of one part kid's meal toys, one part clothing that no longer fits, three parts toys that haven't been found - let alone played with - for a full month, and two parts trash. Once this stuff is in various bags, waiting to be removed, my sisters begin recovery. And by "recovery" I don't mean "getting over the fact that the room is clean." I mean, they start digging through the bags of stuff that is leaving the house, and trying to find the things they want to keep. You know, the things that they haven't seen for a month and have, apparently, been desperately searching for the whole time.
I spent several hours cleaning all of that up, and there's still stuff to do. But while I was cleaning, something struck me, in between bouts of chasing off siblings and hiding various items I wanted out of the house.
While getting rid of the clutter that had accumulated, and dealing with my sisters wanting to keep every gum wrapper and popsicle stick, I realized that most people have the same problem.
They don't want anything to be gotten rid of.
Their past is still there, clinging in the corners. Memories, past hurts. Or, almost as bad, good memories that they can't let go of to find peace or happiness in their current situation. They hang onto them, refusing to let them go out of fear they'll forget - or that they'll never have ones as good ever again.
Just like people who think that empty plastic peanut butter jars might be "needed" at some point in, oh, ten years, these memories might serve some purpose further on. But it's not worth carrying them around for ten years waiting for that moment. Not if it's going to clutter your mind, your emotional state, your relationships, or your cabinets. It's just not worth it. Surely you'll get another jar of peanut butter in the future.
If it's making your life difficult, or just cluttering things up, then it's time to reevaluate your priorities.
Are you going to keep the cheap plastic Happy Meal toy, or are you going to keep the glass figurine your grandmother gave to you? That spot can only hold one item, and you'd better make sure that item is worth the space you're giving it.
Yeah, you should keep your good memories. But holding onto them like the peanut butter jars, after they're no longer relevant, and giving them space that could be used to store more good memories - how is that a good idea? Get rid of the peanut butter jars (or the popsicle sticks, or the...) and use that space for something that's really worth having.
As valuable as good memories are, they're memories. Pulling them out and playing like they're the present isn't going to help you make new memories. You'll be so busy admiring the ones you've already got that you won't have as much room for new ones. And, unlike the peanut butter jars and popsicle sticks, getting rid of them doesn't mean you'll never see them again. You just remove them from constant perusal so you're free to do other things. You can always pull them out again later.
But, for the most part, the good memories are like the glass figurine. Things worth keeping out in the open, where you can look at them. Some memories, though, need to go away, like my sister's too-small shoes that she wanted to keep. They serve no purpose, and only keep you from enjoying the things that are really important. Like shoes that actually fit.
Keeping everything leads to a cluttered, busy, crazy, cramped life. I don't know about anyone else, but seeing all the feathers vacuumed off my floor was nice. (A certain sister's pillow has a hole in it somewhere.) It was also nice to be able to see the surfaces that had been crammed with junk only this morning. But to see those places, I had to get rid of the stuff in the way.
When those things (feathers, half-full bottles of bubbles) were gone, I could finally see the things I really wanted to see. Like the desktop, the books...the floor. I could also see the really pretty things that I did want to keep, and the higher-quality things I knew my sisters would want later. By removing the junk and the cheap things, the nice things were more obvious and clear. They didn't have to compete with piles of paper, doll clothes, and legos.
So get rid of the things cluttering your life and mind.
Don't dwell on those things. Clear them out.
And don't peek inside the bags. ;)
June 3, 2014
GUESS WHAT!?
To purchase, click image. :) It's been a long time since I posted anything about Isomorph, but I have good news. ^-^For those of you who haven't liked my Facebook page (which you should go do - pretty please?) Isomorph went live for the first time last night. :D
I was so excited about it I didn't even wait to put together a real blog post about it; I went and put the link on Facebook - which is why you should go like my page. The more excited I get, the less likely you are to see any of it here. xD
Anyway, shortly before it went live, I also made the blurb public. Sooooo, now that the book itself is live, and I've calmed down enough to type more than a few words, those of you who haven't liked my page can see it all.
As always, the support and assistance during the writing and editing process was amazing.
Thank you, and I hope you like it! ^-^ It is the thirtieth century, and a great barrier divides the continental United States. The Isomorph Phenomenon has swept the world, causing every pregnancy to result in identical twin births. The twins became known as the good twins and the isomorphs. To maintain peace, a treaty was forged. The isomorphs keep their chaos, theft, murder, and corruption on their side. The good twins build an inherently safe society on the other.
The penalty for an isomorph crossing the barrier is death.
But the centuries of peace have softened the good twins, and the isomorphs have grown bold. Near the small town of Goldflat, isomorphs are flouting the treaty and crossing the barrier.
Kember and Marcus are kidnapped by mistake, and during their enforced captivity, both are faced with an uncomfortable truth about the reality of the isomorphs beyond the barrier.
You can get it here, for 2.99. ^_^
May 22, 2014
We're having a pity party, and you're invited!
A friend of mine was put in a position a while back where their trust was betrayed. It wasn't a big betrayal, and it wasn't about something vital. But a betrayal, however small, still hurts. This particular one bothered this person enough that they decided they would try and work it out with their friend.
The conversation did not go well.
The friend made several assumptions, and, toward the end of the conversation, had turned the whole thing around. Suddenly, it was all about them, how they had not gotten the things they wanted out of life, followed by a list. A list. They had a list.
To make matters even more interesting, this list was an air of grievances against the person whom they had betrayed. The person they'd betrayed had gotten most, if not all, of the things on that list. The betrayal was turned on its head, and was not only not their fault, but the fault of the person who felt betrayed.
This made me angry. I told my friend that she should end the conversation by saying they had missed the point, made it all about them, and that she wouldn't talk about it anymore.
This isn't about the grievances between my friend and her friend. This is about the kind of attitude I saw in this exchange.
You should not bring up past hurts to excuse your behavior, or in an effort to make others feel guilty. Especially when you could have acted to change the circumstances around those failures.
Come on, people.
Life is difficult. No one gets everything they want. Get over it.
A loss, or not getting something you want, is not an excuse for you to hold a grudge and whip it out like a "pity-me" card whenever you feel threatened.
I've had experiences where I didn't get what I wanted. Those experiences will color my life until it ends. But I do not, now or ever, believe that those losses entitled me to not have to deal with consequences in other areas of my life.
I've been wronged in the past, but I can't call those wrongs in like a debt to my friends or family. Those wrongs are not an excuse that allows me to escape responsibility for my actions.
Get over yourselves, people. You probably heard this before, but I'll say it again: the world doesn't revolve around you.
If you've been hurt, then you need to let it go. If it's affecting you years later to this extent, then you need to figure it out, because that's not healthy. It's not healthy for your friends or family, and it's certainly not healthy for you.
I see this attitude all over the place. It's prevalent, and it's annoying. Things in the past make people feel like victims.
African Americans were faced with persecution and slavery because of the color of their skin. That was wrong. The way they were treated was wrong. I'm not arguing that.
I am saying, however, that it was a long time ago. That kind of persecution doesn't exist in America anymore. Owning anyone is against the law. The kind of behavior towards another person that made slavery so terrible is illegal.
Are there still racists? Yup. And I can tell you right now, there always will be. Racism isn't just about minority groups. Do they get the brunt of it? Perhaps. But racism isn't limited to just black people. Anyone who voted for President Obama because they wanted a black president essentially said they didn't vote for the "other guy" because he was white. They discriminated against a white man, because they wanted a black man.
Yes, they were treated badly in the past. But that doesn't mean the rest of us should have to pay for it generations down the line. Yes, you were treated badly in your past. That doesn't make you a special case. You still have to work just as hard as everyone else. You can't pin your own hurts on the rest of the world and expect them to cater to you. Your hurts are your hurts. If they're still bothering you, get the help you need to move past it, and stop making others pay for them.
Is it wrong to want to be treated the same as everyone else? Nope. That's something everyone deserves. But what if I told you that for every race there is in the world, there's someone that hates it and will discriminate against it? To be just like everyone else, that means dealing with such behavior.
Is it wrong to want good things? No, of course not. But making others feel guilty because they got those things and you did not? No. That's not okay.
I have Native American blood in me. Could I rant and rave about the "white man" and what they did to my people? Sure. But I don't. For several reasons. One, I'm not exactly full-blood Indian, despite the fact that my tribe would consider me one. Two, the people that killed off the Native Americans are long dead. None of them persecuted me personally, and I have just as much opportunity to make my life great here as those who have no Native American blood in them. It just takes hard work. If I'm discriminated against at work, I'll have to put up with it, or suck it up and find another job.
I'm not entitled to millions of dollars just because of my heritage. I'm not entitled to preferential treatment because people a hundred years ago that I'm related to were persecuted. And to scream racism because we haven't had a Native American president is ridiculous. Will people discriminate against me? Probably. Is that a reason to flip out at the slightest sign of it? Uh, no.
You should all be treated with respect. Everyone is due a certain amount of respect based entirely on the fact that they're people with thoughts and feelings. People should not be dismissed entirely because of the color of their skin. But before you assume that's what's happening to you, think about other factors. Don't just assume you're being persecuted or singled out because of your race. Don't just assume you're being attacked.
And please, please, please, please, don't act the victim. You're not some weakling with no power. If you don't like your situation at work, then start looking for another job. If you live in a place where lots of people are discriminatory, move. It won't be easy for most people, but if you feel that badly about it, don't you think it would be worth it?
The world is not about you. The world at large doesn't care about your worries, or your fears. Foisting your griefs on others, making them pay for something you didn't get...it's selfish. It's also a short trip to the neighborhood pity-party. And we all know that the only person that goes to those is the one throwing it.
So, might you have reason to feel bad? Sure. In fact, let's assume you do. Say you have every reason in the world to feel bad or persecuted. Say you really have been persecuted, and terribly.
Then ask this: Is feeling sorry for yourself or playing the victim really going to help you?
The conversation did not go well.
The friend made several assumptions, and, toward the end of the conversation, had turned the whole thing around. Suddenly, it was all about them, how they had not gotten the things they wanted out of life, followed by a list. A list. They had a list.
To make matters even more interesting, this list was an air of grievances against the person whom they had betrayed. The person they'd betrayed had gotten most, if not all, of the things on that list. The betrayal was turned on its head, and was not only not their fault, but the fault of the person who felt betrayed.
This made me angry. I told my friend that she should end the conversation by saying they had missed the point, made it all about them, and that she wouldn't talk about it anymore.
This isn't about the grievances between my friend and her friend. This is about the kind of attitude I saw in this exchange.
You should not bring up past hurts to excuse your behavior, or in an effort to make others feel guilty. Especially when you could have acted to change the circumstances around those failures.
Come on, people.
Life is difficult. No one gets everything they want. Get over it.
A loss, or not getting something you want, is not an excuse for you to hold a grudge and whip it out like a "pity-me" card whenever you feel threatened.
I've had experiences where I didn't get what I wanted. Those experiences will color my life until it ends. But I do not, now or ever, believe that those losses entitled me to not have to deal with consequences in other areas of my life.
I've been wronged in the past, but I can't call those wrongs in like a debt to my friends or family. Those wrongs are not an excuse that allows me to escape responsibility for my actions.
Get over yourselves, people. You probably heard this before, but I'll say it again: the world doesn't revolve around you.
If you've been hurt, then you need to let it go. If it's affecting you years later to this extent, then you need to figure it out, because that's not healthy. It's not healthy for your friends or family, and it's certainly not healthy for you.
I see this attitude all over the place. It's prevalent, and it's annoying. Things in the past make people feel like victims.
African Americans were faced with persecution and slavery because of the color of their skin. That was wrong. The way they were treated was wrong. I'm not arguing that.
I am saying, however, that it was a long time ago. That kind of persecution doesn't exist in America anymore. Owning anyone is against the law. The kind of behavior towards another person that made slavery so terrible is illegal.
Are there still racists? Yup. And I can tell you right now, there always will be. Racism isn't just about minority groups. Do they get the brunt of it? Perhaps. But racism isn't limited to just black people. Anyone who voted for President Obama because they wanted a black president essentially said they didn't vote for the "other guy" because he was white. They discriminated against a white man, because they wanted a black man.
Yes, they were treated badly in the past. But that doesn't mean the rest of us should have to pay for it generations down the line. Yes, you were treated badly in your past. That doesn't make you a special case. You still have to work just as hard as everyone else. You can't pin your own hurts on the rest of the world and expect them to cater to you. Your hurts are your hurts. If they're still bothering you, get the help you need to move past it, and stop making others pay for them.
Is it wrong to want to be treated the same as everyone else? Nope. That's something everyone deserves. But what if I told you that for every race there is in the world, there's someone that hates it and will discriminate against it? To be just like everyone else, that means dealing with such behavior.
Is it wrong to want good things? No, of course not. But making others feel guilty because they got those things and you did not? No. That's not okay.
I have Native American blood in me. Could I rant and rave about the "white man" and what they did to my people? Sure. But I don't. For several reasons. One, I'm not exactly full-blood Indian, despite the fact that my tribe would consider me one. Two, the people that killed off the Native Americans are long dead. None of them persecuted me personally, and I have just as much opportunity to make my life great here as those who have no Native American blood in them. It just takes hard work. If I'm discriminated against at work, I'll have to put up with it, or suck it up and find another job.
I'm not entitled to millions of dollars just because of my heritage. I'm not entitled to preferential treatment because people a hundred years ago that I'm related to were persecuted. And to scream racism because we haven't had a Native American president is ridiculous. Will people discriminate against me? Probably. Is that a reason to flip out at the slightest sign of it? Uh, no.
You should all be treated with respect. Everyone is due a certain amount of respect based entirely on the fact that they're people with thoughts and feelings. People should not be dismissed entirely because of the color of their skin. But before you assume that's what's happening to you, think about other factors. Don't just assume you're being persecuted or singled out because of your race. Don't just assume you're being attacked.
And please, please, please, please, don't act the victim. You're not some weakling with no power. If you don't like your situation at work, then start looking for another job. If you live in a place where lots of people are discriminatory, move. It won't be easy for most people, but if you feel that badly about it, don't you think it would be worth it?
The world is not about you. The world at large doesn't care about your worries, or your fears. Foisting your griefs on others, making them pay for something you didn't get...it's selfish. It's also a short trip to the neighborhood pity-party. And we all know that the only person that goes to those is the one throwing it.
So, might you have reason to feel bad? Sure. In fact, let's assume you do. Say you have every reason in the world to feel bad or persecuted. Say you really have been persecuted, and terribly.
Then ask this: Is feeling sorry for yourself or playing the victim really going to help you?
May 21, 2014
Fovos
Fovos (Greek):
~ Noun:
Fear, apprehension, dread, scare, fearfulness
Someday, I will cause a problem I can't fix. Someday, I'll go to cross the street and forget to look both ways. Someday, the fact that I've never broken a bone might change. Someday, there will be someone I love in a position that I can't make better. Someday, I will have to say goodbye to the people I love the most.
These are all fears.
I'm assailed by fears constantly, and I think if you're honest with yourself, you'll find the same thing is true for you.
I'm afraid that the things I love about my life will go away. That things I don't like about myself and my life will become more prominent. Afraid that my job will vanish, that I won't be able to find a new one and keep it. Afraid that people won't like me. Afraid that they'll have good reason not to like me. Afraid that I'll have to leave home. Afraid that I'll lose friends. Afraid that I'll lose family.
Put simply, I am afraid of change.
I'm not unique in this. People in general dislike the idea of change. We don't know if the change will be good, so we cling to the things we know, even if they're not the best. We avoid change, and our lives stagnate. I've seen this happen. Because of fear, people refuse to act to change something they are unhappy with.
If you've ever been in a miserable situation, you probably experienced periods of hopelessness - and a lot of fear. I'm not talking something like you don't get along with a coworker as well as you'd like, or you don't want the job you have. I mean something damaging. Something like abuse, or refusing to move to find work because you're afraid.
In a miserable situation, you probably knew you didn't want things to stay the way they were, but you were afraid to take action to change them. Because to do that, you had to take a chance. You had to risk the comfort of the known to go after the uncertainty of the unknown.
I've been in situations like that before. And it's frightening.
But in some of those situations, I had a choice. I could choose to do nothing, and suffer. Or I could act, face my fears, and endure something that could very well have been less painful.
I know a lot of people who would choose to suffer. I've done it myself in the past. But there was one time when I'd suffered enough.
There was a guy I really liked. And I'd been watching as he dated other women. It was really hard on me, in a lot of different ways. I had decided that I wasn't going to do anything about it. But as months went by, and I felt worse and worse, I had a choice.
I could continue to do nothing, or I could put myself out there and say something.
As someone who had been referred to as shy for most of my life, that was something that frightened me, more so than it might have most people, to such an extent that I would describe it as near-debilitating. It doesn't seem like much to be afraid of, and it certainly doesn't seem proportional to the actual situation, but it was the biggest fear I had ever faced in my life, and the first time I'd done something of that nature. I knew how it could go bad, and I was afraid that it would. I didn't want to say anything. But I decided that if I did say something, whatever negatives could come from it would be balanced out by the positives.
So, as much as I didn't want to, I did it.
And the situation did go bad. Very, very bad. In fact, there aren't many ways it could have ended up worse. I ended up dating the guy, got engaged to him, and became a victim of emotional abuse. He was arrested later for molesting minors - which happened during the course of our relationship.
I had good reason to fear doing what I did. But by facing that fear, and dealing with the consequences of the scenario that played out, I learned something that was valuable enough that I would make that same choice again, despite the results.
I learned that I was capable of overcoming my fears. I learned that I didn't have to let my fear dictate my action. I was capable of choosing to face something that scared me, and take a risk. I also proved to myself that even if something did go terribly wrong, I could handle it.
If you're in a position where you're unhappy, but you're choosing to do nothing because of fear, reconsider.
Choosing not to act because you're afraid is not a good reason. Fear is there to caution us against doing something stupid. Not to keep us paralyzed and miserable.
I should have been afraid. And I probably should have kept quiet. I knew that things probably wouldn't work out, but I acted anyway. And I did it because I knew I would suffer for a long time if I didn't. I would have spent my life wondering what would have happened if I'd only found my courage. I judged what I would accomplish for certain as being of more importance than the possible risk.
I still think that the risk was worth what my action accomplished.
My fear could have stopped me from being involved in something that painful. But it also would have prevented me from knowing what would have happened. I would never have known the courage I was capable of, or the resiliency I could show in the face of something so traumatic. I might now still be afraid of something as simple as speaking up. I did a lot of growing through that, and I wouldn't trade that growth - even for a past without the pain.
So, I'm not telling you you shouldn't be afraid. I'm telling you that sometimes, in some situations, fear is an obstacle that's worth overcoming. Use your common sense to decide when it's worth it, and if it is, then don't let fear be the thing standing in your way.
~ Noun:
Fear, apprehension, dread, scare, fearfulness
Someday, I will cause a problem I can't fix. Someday, I'll go to cross the street and forget to look both ways. Someday, the fact that I've never broken a bone might change. Someday, there will be someone I love in a position that I can't make better. Someday, I will have to say goodbye to the people I love the most.
These are all fears.
I'm assailed by fears constantly, and I think if you're honest with yourself, you'll find the same thing is true for you.
I'm afraid that the things I love about my life will go away. That things I don't like about myself and my life will become more prominent. Afraid that my job will vanish, that I won't be able to find a new one and keep it. Afraid that people won't like me. Afraid that they'll have good reason not to like me. Afraid that I'll have to leave home. Afraid that I'll lose friends. Afraid that I'll lose family.
Put simply, I am afraid of change.
I'm not unique in this. People in general dislike the idea of change. We don't know if the change will be good, so we cling to the things we know, even if they're not the best. We avoid change, and our lives stagnate. I've seen this happen. Because of fear, people refuse to act to change something they are unhappy with.
If you've ever been in a miserable situation, you probably experienced periods of hopelessness - and a lot of fear. I'm not talking something like you don't get along with a coworker as well as you'd like, or you don't want the job you have. I mean something damaging. Something like abuse, or refusing to move to find work because you're afraid.
In a miserable situation, you probably knew you didn't want things to stay the way they were, but you were afraid to take action to change them. Because to do that, you had to take a chance. You had to risk the comfort of the known to go after the uncertainty of the unknown.
I've been in situations like that before. And it's frightening.
But in some of those situations, I had a choice. I could choose to do nothing, and suffer. Or I could act, face my fears, and endure something that could very well have been less painful.
I know a lot of people who would choose to suffer. I've done it myself in the past. But there was one time when I'd suffered enough.
There was a guy I really liked. And I'd been watching as he dated other women. It was really hard on me, in a lot of different ways. I had decided that I wasn't going to do anything about it. But as months went by, and I felt worse and worse, I had a choice.
I could continue to do nothing, or I could put myself out there and say something.
As someone who had been referred to as shy for most of my life, that was something that frightened me, more so than it might have most people, to such an extent that I would describe it as near-debilitating. It doesn't seem like much to be afraid of, and it certainly doesn't seem proportional to the actual situation, but it was the biggest fear I had ever faced in my life, and the first time I'd done something of that nature. I knew how it could go bad, and I was afraid that it would. I didn't want to say anything. But I decided that if I did say something, whatever negatives could come from it would be balanced out by the positives.
So, as much as I didn't want to, I did it.
And the situation did go bad. Very, very bad. In fact, there aren't many ways it could have ended up worse. I ended up dating the guy, got engaged to him, and became a victim of emotional abuse. He was arrested later for molesting minors - which happened during the course of our relationship.
I had good reason to fear doing what I did. But by facing that fear, and dealing with the consequences of the scenario that played out, I learned something that was valuable enough that I would make that same choice again, despite the results.
I learned that I was capable of overcoming my fears. I learned that I didn't have to let my fear dictate my action. I was capable of choosing to face something that scared me, and take a risk. I also proved to myself that even if something did go terribly wrong, I could handle it.
If you're in a position where you're unhappy, but you're choosing to do nothing because of fear, reconsider.
Choosing not to act because you're afraid is not a good reason. Fear is there to caution us against doing something stupid. Not to keep us paralyzed and miserable.
I should have been afraid. And I probably should have kept quiet. I knew that things probably wouldn't work out, but I acted anyway. And I did it because I knew I would suffer for a long time if I didn't. I would have spent my life wondering what would have happened if I'd only found my courage. I judged what I would accomplish for certain as being of more importance than the possible risk.
I still think that the risk was worth what my action accomplished.
My fear could have stopped me from being involved in something that painful. But it also would have prevented me from knowing what would have happened. I would never have known the courage I was capable of, or the resiliency I could show in the face of something so traumatic. I might now still be afraid of something as simple as speaking up. I did a lot of growing through that, and I wouldn't trade that growth - even for a past without the pain.
So, I'm not telling you you shouldn't be afraid. I'm telling you that sometimes, in some situations, fear is an obstacle that's worth overcoming. Use your common sense to decide when it's worth it, and if it is, then don't let fear be the thing standing in your way.
May 12, 2014
"It's a Free Country!"
He was carrying a guitar stand when he came in. He set it on the counter, whipped out his receipt, and showed me a tag on the stand. It was a warning about varnish on guitars. It said that guitars with certain kinds of varnishes should not be set in the stand, because the foam on the stand would eat away at it. He said he needed to return it, because he bought it and got home to discover that his guitar had one of those kinds of varnishes on it.
I told him that we don't accept returns, but that I could take it back and give him store credit. He would be able to use the amount of money spent on the stand to buy other things in the store.
His response was immediate, and negative. "Who's the owner? Who's the manager? I want to talk to him because this is complete ______"
At that point (about when the curse words started flying) I informed him that the owner had been retired for years, and that we didn't have a manager in the store that day.
Around that time, one of my coworkers stepped in and told him that if he wanted to talk to a manager he could call our other store, which is forty-five minutes away, and talk to the manager there. He took the number, went out to the parking lot and came back in after five minutes.
Through all of this he was telling us about how he was going to ruin our business by telling all of his friends never to come to us, and that he'd only come twice and wouldn't be coming again. He also demanded to know where our sign was saying that all sales are final, and continued to curse.
He made me angry.
He had every right to want to return a stand that was going to ruin his guitar. He had every right to be upset when I told him we wouldn't give him his money back.
I don't make the rules. As much as I'd like to do whatever any customer asks me to, there are rules and regulations in place - and I didn't make them up. I follow the rules for the exact same reasons that I didn't physically or verbally attack this guy.
Don't get me wrong, it would have given me great pleasure to teach him a very important lesson. And my coworker felt the same way.
But there was one major difference between how we handled the situation and how he handled it: we maintained at least a semblance of control.
In this country, there is an attitude of entitlement.
Our nation is called the land of the free. We hear "it's a free country" all the time. And it's a wonderful thing. I appreciate it, because it allows me to work to better my situation, to worship how I please without fear of retribution, and because I am free and allowed to think as I please.
But there seems to be a lot of confusion about what freedom truly is.
There's a song I heard, called American Girl. It's sung by Bonnie McKee, and part of the lyrics go like this: "I wanna buy a new heart out of a vending machine, because it's a free country and I can do anything."
Even that free cookie comes with a certain amount of responsibility. One, you are responsible for the amount of calories you consume. You can't blame any weight gain on the person who gave it to you. You didn't have to take it, but you did. Second, saying that your cookie trumps someone else's is just ridiculous. It's free, but that doesn't give you the right to take every single one, or deny another their own. It's free - that means anyone can have it, and you can't stop them.
What does this mean?
It means that freedom has responsibilities, and freedom has rules. It means that in order for freedom to work, everyone has to respect that everyone else has rights and responsibilities.
Freedom doesn't mean that a person who refuses to work should still be free to take whatever they need to survive at the expense of someone else. It means that they have the freedom to go out and find a job, and no one can stop them from doing that. It also means that if strangers give you what you need to survive, it's up to them to provide it. They don't have to do that, because they have (or should have) the freedom to decline.
We have the freedom to decide what we do with our time. Freedom doesn't mean freedom from consequences. Freedom means free to make our own choices - and live with the consequences.
Everyone has to live with the consequences of what they choose to do with their freedom. Could you choose to go on a murder spree because someone called you a name? Sure you could. But that also means I'm just as free to put you in jail for it.
Even freedom has to have rules. And those rules (most of them) are put in place to protect people from negligence, from hate, and from selfishness. I can do whatever I want. I can lock you in a room and watch you starve for fun. But that's against the law (it's also cruel). I have to face consequences for it. I have the freedom to do it, if I can get away with it. But that doesn't mean it's right, or okay, or that I won't have to face punishment for that.
So, I guess we can do anything we want. But you'd better be prepared to face the consequences.
If you scream "IT'S A FREE COUNTRY!" and expect there to be no consequences, then you're denying our right to be just as free as you.
My coworker and I dealt with that man as nicely and reasonably as we could, considering how angry we were at the time. We had the freedom to do that. But we also had the freedom to kick him bodily from the store. We chose not to, because we understood the consequences of that action, and decided it wasn't worth it. He reacted badly. He treated us like dirt. Did he have the right to do that? Sure he did. It is a free country. But that means that the next person he treats like that has the right to punch him in the face, too. He'll have to face consequences, and probably unpleasant ones.
But hey, it's a free country.
I told him that we don't accept returns, but that I could take it back and give him store credit. He would be able to use the amount of money spent on the stand to buy other things in the store.
His response was immediate, and negative. "Who's the owner? Who's the manager? I want to talk to him because this is complete ______"
At that point (about when the curse words started flying) I informed him that the owner had been retired for years, and that we didn't have a manager in the store that day.
Around that time, one of my coworkers stepped in and told him that if he wanted to talk to a manager he could call our other store, which is forty-five minutes away, and talk to the manager there. He took the number, went out to the parking lot and came back in after five minutes.
Through all of this he was telling us about how he was going to ruin our business by telling all of his friends never to come to us, and that he'd only come twice and wouldn't be coming again. He also demanded to know where our sign was saying that all sales are final, and continued to curse.
He made me angry.
He had every right to want to return a stand that was going to ruin his guitar. He had every right to be upset when I told him we wouldn't give him his money back.
I don't make the rules. As much as I'd like to do whatever any customer asks me to, there are rules and regulations in place - and I didn't make them up. I follow the rules for the exact same reasons that I didn't physically or verbally attack this guy.
Don't get me wrong, it would have given me great pleasure to teach him a very important lesson. And my coworker felt the same way.
But there was one major difference between how we handled the situation and how he handled it: we maintained at least a semblance of control.
In this country, there is an attitude of entitlement.
Our nation is called the land of the free. We hear "it's a free country" all the time. And it's a wonderful thing. I appreciate it, because it allows me to work to better my situation, to worship how I please without fear of retribution, and because I am free and allowed to think as I please.
But there seems to be a lot of confusion about what freedom truly is.
There's a song I heard, called American Girl. It's sung by Bonnie McKee, and part of the lyrics go like this: "I wanna buy a new heart out of a vending machine, because it's a free country and I can do anything."
Even that free cookie comes with a certain amount of responsibility. One, you are responsible for the amount of calories you consume. You can't blame any weight gain on the person who gave it to you. You didn't have to take it, but you did. Second, saying that your cookie trumps someone else's is just ridiculous. It's free, but that doesn't give you the right to take every single one, or deny another their own. It's free - that means anyone can have it, and you can't stop them.
What does this mean?
It means that freedom has responsibilities, and freedom has rules. It means that in order for freedom to work, everyone has to respect that everyone else has rights and responsibilities.
Freedom doesn't mean that a person who refuses to work should still be free to take whatever they need to survive at the expense of someone else. It means that they have the freedom to go out and find a job, and no one can stop them from doing that. It also means that if strangers give you what you need to survive, it's up to them to provide it. They don't have to do that, because they have (or should have) the freedom to decline.
We have the freedom to decide what we do with our time. Freedom doesn't mean freedom from consequences. Freedom means free to make our own choices - and live with the consequences.
Everyone has to live with the consequences of what they choose to do with their freedom. Could you choose to go on a murder spree because someone called you a name? Sure you could. But that also means I'm just as free to put you in jail for it.
Even freedom has to have rules. And those rules (most of them) are put in place to protect people from negligence, from hate, and from selfishness. I can do whatever I want. I can lock you in a room and watch you starve for fun. But that's against the law (it's also cruel). I have to face consequences for it. I have the freedom to do it, if I can get away with it. But that doesn't mean it's right, or okay, or that I won't have to face punishment for that.
So, I guess we can do anything we want. But you'd better be prepared to face the consequences.
If you scream "IT'S A FREE COUNTRY!" and expect there to be no consequences, then you're denying our right to be just as free as you.
My coworker and I dealt with that man as nicely and reasonably as we could, considering how angry we were at the time. We had the freedom to do that. But we also had the freedom to kick him bodily from the store. We chose not to, because we understood the consequences of that action, and decided it wasn't worth it. He reacted badly. He treated us like dirt. Did he have the right to do that? Sure he did. It is a free country. But that means that the next person he treats like that has the right to punch him in the face, too. He'll have to face consequences, and probably unpleasant ones.
But hey, it's a free country.
May 1, 2014
Offensive Material Below
I can't stand reading this. The explanations are tearing me apart!
Lol, what? Is she totally oblivious to what's going on?
Why are they having this conversation now?!
WHAAAAT! What! What!
I don't like this man. Seriously? Who would say that? Jerk.
REALLY?? REALLY? He KNOWS what's up! Did he forget?
Ahem. That is a sample of what I've been wading through to prepare Isomorph (my NaNoWriMo project) for publication. That's six of 115 individual notes my best friend and cousin gave me. Which, by the way, is for a small novel that's only one hundred pages long. And those are the short ones. I've gotten whole paragraphs detailing what the exclamations were for, and very helpful suggestions on how to fix them.
I bring this up because it's criticism. And we all know one person (or two - I have at least two) that has an issue with taking criticism.
Well, welcome to the real world. I want my writing to be better. Do I like reading stuff like the above? Or the whole paragraphs literally ripping my stories apart at the seams? Nope. It occasionally hurts my feelings. But you know what? I ask for that.
Let's see if you can guess why.
Now, why would I ask someone to poke holes in everything I've written? Why would I ask someone to be critical? Why would I welcome, and then thank, the people who say things like my "character is a dummy"?
Come on, now. It's not that hard.
Because I want my writing to get better.
And it won't get better if everyone pats me on the head and tells me what a great job I'm doing. No, I'll get better if people go in there, and rip it all apart. Do I want support? Of course. But do I want people to just blindly love my work? No. I want them to love it because it's worth loving - not because I wrote it. If there's going to be a compliment, then I want it to be the truth. And that means I have to take the negative as well as the positive.
The world is too sensitive. People are too sensitive. It annoys me so bad. Toughen your hide, people. You're gonna need it. It makes me want to be less nice about it than I ordinarily would be. You're going to freak out when I'm nice? Lovely. That's a great life skill. That will really help you when you're dealing with actual people at work and they start cussing you out in front of everyone.
Stop taking everything so personally.
I'm not referring to people just hating your guts and saying nasty things to be nasty. I'm talking about the critiques to things you do or say. Or constructive criticism.
I'm not saying it should make you happy to get it. But your attitude about it is important. If, for instance, you're so sensitive to criticism that you get angry and hold a grudge or burst into tears when someone points out flaws, then writing is not the career for you. Neither is any kind of art form. People can, and will, tear it down if they see something wrong with it.
No matter what you do, there will always be people who hate it, or how you do it. So you need to honestly and humbly examine what they say, even if they're hateful, to see if they have a point. Does it make sense? Can you see what they're talking about? Can what they say actually help you improve? If so, then listen, take their advice into consideration, and get over yourself.
If they're just saying what you've made is trash, then for goodness sakes, ignore them. If they aren't telling you why they think it's trash, then ask. If they can't tell you, then dismiss it. Call them what they are - trolls. They just want to tick you off.
The bottom line is, most constructive criticism is given because the person giving it wants you to improve. They want to see you succeed. And, because they're objective as far as your work goes, they're in a position to point out flaws that you'd like to pretend don't exist. Or even have no idea existed.
That criticism is given because they want to help.
But it's not going to help if your skin is so thin that something as tame as what my cousin wrote draws figurative blood. If you refuse to accept what they say, it's pointless. If you get angry and attack them, it's useless, and you'll earn a reputation for being an unpleasant person.
But maybe you don't want to change.
Boo-hoo. Sorry. That's a lame excuse. Whether you want to change or not, you're going to get that criticism. Unless, of course, you tick people off or scare them so badly that they're afraid to ever question the gloriousness of you or your work again. In which case you're being a jerk, and they'll still think it anyway. So you might as well take something positive from it.
My friend and cousin is very special. She's smart and she's truthful. She cares about how I feel about what she's said. But she values the truth more than a white lie to make me feel better for a moment. And that's why I asked her to read my stuff. Because I know she'll be honest, and I know she'll put a lot of effort into it. She cares about me, and knows this is important to me. So she puts more thought into it than the average person would who was just reading for fun. She doesn't sugarcoat it for me, and those are some of the biggest reasons I value her opinion as highly as I do.
Those are the kind of people that will make you better. As an artist, as a writer, as a person. Because they care, and because they care enough to tell you the truths that are unpleasant. Even when you don't want to hear them. Especially when you don't want to hear them.
True, some of them think that they need to be the world's quality control. And that can be annoying. But why not take it as the help it can be? Some people are brutal and blunt. Value that. Those are the people that will tell you exactly what they think. They aren't going to tell you white lies because it's what you want to hear.
Tact is important, of course. But never trade away truth for it. If you're in the position to offer constructive criticism, do it nicely. But don't be so worried about hurting their feelings that you bend the truth.
Lol, what? Is she totally oblivious to what's going on?
Why are they having this conversation now?!
WHAAAAT! What! What!
I don't like this man. Seriously? Who would say that? Jerk.
REALLY?? REALLY? He KNOWS what's up! Did he forget?
Ahem. That is a sample of what I've been wading through to prepare Isomorph (my NaNoWriMo project) for publication. That's six of 115 individual notes my best friend and cousin gave me. Which, by the way, is for a small novel that's only one hundred pages long. And those are the short ones. I've gotten whole paragraphs detailing what the exclamations were for, and very helpful suggestions on how to fix them.
I bring this up because it's criticism. And we all know one person (or two - I have at least two) that has an issue with taking criticism.
Well, welcome to the real world. I want my writing to be better. Do I like reading stuff like the above? Or the whole paragraphs literally ripping my stories apart at the seams? Nope. It occasionally hurts my feelings. But you know what? I ask for that.
Let's see if you can guess why.
Now, why would I ask someone to poke holes in everything I've written? Why would I ask someone to be critical? Why would I welcome, and then thank, the people who say things like my "character is a dummy"?
Come on, now. It's not that hard.
Because I want my writing to get better.
And it won't get better if everyone pats me on the head and tells me what a great job I'm doing. No, I'll get better if people go in there, and rip it all apart. Do I want support? Of course. But do I want people to just blindly love my work? No. I want them to love it because it's worth loving - not because I wrote it. If there's going to be a compliment, then I want it to be the truth. And that means I have to take the negative as well as the positive.
The world is too sensitive. People are too sensitive. It annoys me so bad. Toughen your hide, people. You're gonna need it. It makes me want to be less nice about it than I ordinarily would be. You're going to freak out when I'm nice? Lovely. That's a great life skill. That will really help you when you're dealing with actual people at work and they start cussing you out in front of everyone.
Stop taking everything so personally.
I'm not referring to people just hating your guts and saying nasty things to be nasty. I'm talking about the critiques to things you do or say. Or constructive criticism.
I'm not saying it should make you happy to get it. But your attitude about it is important. If, for instance, you're so sensitive to criticism that you get angry and hold a grudge or burst into tears when someone points out flaws, then writing is not the career for you. Neither is any kind of art form. People can, and will, tear it down if they see something wrong with it.
No matter what you do, there will always be people who hate it, or how you do it. So you need to honestly and humbly examine what they say, even if they're hateful, to see if they have a point. Does it make sense? Can you see what they're talking about? Can what they say actually help you improve? If so, then listen, take their advice into consideration, and get over yourself.
If they're just saying what you've made is trash, then for goodness sakes, ignore them. If they aren't telling you why they think it's trash, then ask. If they can't tell you, then dismiss it. Call them what they are - trolls. They just want to tick you off.
The bottom line is, most constructive criticism is given because the person giving it wants you to improve. They want to see you succeed. And, because they're objective as far as your work goes, they're in a position to point out flaws that you'd like to pretend don't exist. Or even have no idea existed.
That criticism is given because they want to help.
But it's not going to help if your skin is so thin that something as tame as what my cousin wrote draws figurative blood. If you refuse to accept what they say, it's pointless. If you get angry and attack them, it's useless, and you'll earn a reputation for being an unpleasant person.
But maybe you don't want to change.
Boo-hoo. Sorry. That's a lame excuse. Whether you want to change or not, you're going to get that criticism. Unless, of course, you tick people off or scare them so badly that they're afraid to ever question the gloriousness of you or your work again. In which case you're being a jerk, and they'll still think it anyway. So you might as well take something positive from it.
My friend and cousin is very special. She's smart and she's truthful. She cares about how I feel about what she's said. But she values the truth more than a white lie to make me feel better for a moment. And that's why I asked her to read my stuff. Because I know she'll be honest, and I know she'll put a lot of effort into it. She cares about me, and knows this is important to me. So she puts more thought into it than the average person would who was just reading for fun. She doesn't sugarcoat it for me, and those are some of the biggest reasons I value her opinion as highly as I do.
Those are the kind of people that will make you better. As an artist, as a writer, as a person. Because they care, and because they care enough to tell you the truths that are unpleasant. Even when you don't want to hear them. Especially when you don't want to hear them.
True, some of them think that they need to be the world's quality control. And that can be annoying. But why not take it as the help it can be? Some people are brutal and blunt. Value that. Those are the people that will tell you exactly what they think. They aren't going to tell you white lies because it's what you want to hear.
Tact is important, of course. But never trade away truth for it. If you're in the position to offer constructive criticism, do it nicely. But don't be so worried about hurting their feelings that you bend the truth.
April 23, 2014
Sometimes Labels Can Be Helpful
I had someone apply an interesting label to me the other day. It was surprising, honestly, but also revealing.
I've always placed a very low emphasis on physical appearances. In friends and possible romantic partners. It just never mattered much to me. Whereas another woman may have dismissed some people I've spoken to simply because they weren't attractive to them, I did not.
Putting a person's inner self over their outer self has been something I've been good at for a long time. You might say I was raised that way. I was brought up with a huge emphasis on the inside of a person. I was encouraged to wear clothing that didn't emphasize my body, and even reject clothing that brought too much attention to it. My mom would say that it distracted from my face, and that I wanted them to see my smile, not my body.
Because of all that, I knew growing up that who I was, who I decided to be, was more important than what I looked like. As opposed to the training about clothing, I was taught to tell the truth. To be kind, to listen, to think things through. To seek the truth, even if it meant I was wrong. I was told that those things were far more important than people seeing a pretty face or shapely body.
Now that I'm older, I can not only see the wisdom in this, but I can live that way.
A body will fail, fall apart, grow older. I'm young now, but I won't look like this forever. If someone is attracted to me because they think I'm pretty, what happens when I'm no longer pretty?
Being pretty is not a positive in relationships. Not to me. Being pretty is detrimental, because it draws people who only think of physical things. If you're not pretty, they won't show up as much. The people who are shallow, the ones who only want one thing from you, vanish because they don't want it from you. They want it from someone prettier, hotter, more beautiful.
This world, this place, this time, there is too much emphasis on the physical. Far too much. It distracts from the people. Anyone who plays online games like World of Warcraft will understand when I say that women are sexualized. The armor they wear in games is not designed to be realistically effective. It's designed to make them look pretty, attractive, sexy. The focus is wrong. Art is the same way. The focus is on the body.
People worry too much about looking good. People spend millions of dollars every year on fitness. Many of them, it's not because they want to be healthy. It's because they want others to think they're hot.
Swim suits are the same way. The purpose of a swim suit is to make it possible to swim. Because regular clothes are heavy when wet. They were not made so that men and women can flaunt their bodies on the beach. They were made for a purpose. I don't want to drown when I go swimming, do you? I also don't want to wear a bikini and have it fall off because I was more worried about looking attractive than its practicality.
I was called a sapiosexual.
All it really means is that mental attributes (intelligence, character, personality) are how I decide a person's attractiveness. Or, as some definitions put it, I'm attracted to intelligence.
As far as that goes, I guess it's accurate. I think it's hilarious when a man comes into the store where I work in a tight tank top. Because I'm the only single female that works there, and I don't care. Dude, that ain't gonna help you here. I'll just laugh at you. It's even funnier when some guy with a shirtless picture looks at my profile. The truth is, I have decided not to contact men because they have those kinds of pictures of themselves. It really cuts down on the shallow ones.
It's hilarious! You want a woman that loves you for who you are? Well, I'm the kind that would. But I'm avoiding you because your focus is seriously messed up. I don't care what you look like. I care about who you are. Who you've chosen to be. I also care that you put mental and emotional above physical. You're going to wear (or not wear) stuff like that? I'm not going to take you as seriously. Man or woman.
I would happily marry Quasimodo if, mentally, he was what I was looking for. I would also refuse to marry the best looking man in the world if he was self-centered. I might also turn him down if he posted pictures of himself shirtless. If he wants attention for that, he can find it somewhere else.
So yeah. I guess I am a sapiosexual. It sure cleared things up for me. Although I wouldn't say it applies only to what I find attractive. It also goes for the things I find annoying.
I have little to no patience for things like selfies. Those bug the fire out of me, especially when a girl is wearing heavy makeup or some revealing outfit. Seriously? You want to know why you can't find a guy that likes you for your mind? It's because the bait you've chosen to attract men is your body. It's distracting. Dur.
I also can't stand bikinis. I think they should all just mysteriously vanish. I mean, come on. The beach is a place to have fun, to swim, to spend time with your family and play games. It's not a catwalk, it's not a man/woman buffet. Swimming is a sport, and it's a pastime. You don't need to flash every square inch of skin that's legal to do that.
But apparently most people don't have these problems. They like ogling and being ogled. Apparently, most people have their priorities a little backward. Oh, but they'll say that's just me and my weirdness. Not everyone determines attractiveness based on a person's mind. And they don't.
But maybe they would be happier if they did.
I've always placed a very low emphasis on physical appearances. In friends and possible romantic partners. It just never mattered much to me. Whereas another woman may have dismissed some people I've spoken to simply because they weren't attractive to them, I did not.
Putting a person's inner self over their outer self has been something I've been good at for a long time. You might say I was raised that way. I was brought up with a huge emphasis on the inside of a person. I was encouraged to wear clothing that didn't emphasize my body, and even reject clothing that brought too much attention to it. My mom would say that it distracted from my face, and that I wanted them to see my smile, not my body.
Because of all that, I knew growing up that who I was, who I decided to be, was more important than what I looked like. As opposed to the training about clothing, I was taught to tell the truth. To be kind, to listen, to think things through. To seek the truth, even if it meant I was wrong. I was told that those things were far more important than people seeing a pretty face or shapely body.
Now that I'm older, I can not only see the wisdom in this, but I can live that way.
A body will fail, fall apart, grow older. I'm young now, but I won't look like this forever. If someone is attracted to me because they think I'm pretty, what happens when I'm no longer pretty?
Being pretty is not a positive in relationships. Not to me. Being pretty is detrimental, because it draws people who only think of physical things. If you're not pretty, they won't show up as much. The people who are shallow, the ones who only want one thing from you, vanish because they don't want it from you. They want it from someone prettier, hotter, more beautiful.
This world, this place, this time, there is too much emphasis on the physical. Far too much. It distracts from the people. Anyone who plays online games like World of Warcraft will understand when I say that women are sexualized. The armor they wear in games is not designed to be realistically effective. It's designed to make them look pretty, attractive, sexy. The focus is wrong. Art is the same way. The focus is on the body.
People worry too much about looking good. People spend millions of dollars every year on fitness. Many of them, it's not because they want to be healthy. It's because they want others to think they're hot.
Swim suits are the same way. The purpose of a swim suit is to make it possible to swim. Because regular clothes are heavy when wet. They were not made so that men and women can flaunt their bodies on the beach. They were made for a purpose. I don't want to drown when I go swimming, do you? I also don't want to wear a bikini and have it fall off because I was more worried about looking attractive than its practicality.
I was called a sapiosexual.
All it really means is that mental attributes (intelligence, character, personality) are how I decide a person's attractiveness. Or, as some definitions put it, I'm attracted to intelligence.
As far as that goes, I guess it's accurate. I think it's hilarious when a man comes into the store where I work in a tight tank top. Because I'm the only single female that works there, and I don't care. Dude, that ain't gonna help you here. I'll just laugh at you. It's even funnier when some guy with a shirtless picture looks at my profile. The truth is, I have decided not to contact men because they have those kinds of pictures of themselves. It really cuts down on the shallow ones.
It's hilarious! You want a woman that loves you for who you are? Well, I'm the kind that would. But I'm avoiding you because your focus is seriously messed up. I don't care what you look like. I care about who you are. Who you've chosen to be. I also care that you put mental and emotional above physical. You're going to wear (or not wear) stuff like that? I'm not going to take you as seriously. Man or woman.
I would happily marry Quasimodo if, mentally, he was what I was looking for. I would also refuse to marry the best looking man in the world if he was self-centered. I might also turn him down if he posted pictures of himself shirtless. If he wants attention for that, he can find it somewhere else.
So yeah. I guess I am a sapiosexual. It sure cleared things up for me. Although I wouldn't say it applies only to what I find attractive. It also goes for the things I find annoying.
I have little to no patience for things like selfies. Those bug the fire out of me, especially when a girl is wearing heavy makeup or some revealing outfit. Seriously? You want to know why you can't find a guy that likes you for your mind? It's because the bait you've chosen to attract men is your body. It's distracting. Dur.
I also can't stand bikinis. I think they should all just mysteriously vanish. I mean, come on. The beach is a place to have fun, to swim, to spend time with your family and play games. It's not a catwalk, it's not a man/woman buffet. Swimming is a sport, and it's a pastime. You don't need to flash every square inch of skin that's legal to do that.
But apparently most people don't have these problems. They like ogling and being ogled. Apparently, most people have their priorities a little backward. Oh, but they'll say that's just me and my weirdness. Not everyone determines attractiveness based on a person's mind. And they don't.
But maybe they would be happier if they did.
April 21, 2014
Why Do We Celebrate Easter?
I seriously considered posting this yesterday, but I decided against it. Easter is a holiday, and it's a very emotional one for many people. So I waited until the day after. ;)
I celebrate Easter. I don't celebrate it as a religious holiday, but I'll explain that in a minute. Easter is considered a religious holiday by many people. It's widely celebrated as the occasion of Christ's resurrection from the dead. There were sermons, celebrations, conversations, and Facebook posts (one of them mine) about it all over the place. There were lectures, too, reminding people that it's a religious holiday, and the purpose behind the celebration of it.
But.
But...what are you celebrating on the other 364 days of the year? Are you only celebrating this on Easter?
If you're going to lecture, or remind, people about this, why do you only do it on Easter Sunday? Is that the only day it's important? Is that the only day given to us to remember this?
Nope.
First of all, there's a celebration that some of us take part in every Sunday. And it's to remind us of the exact same thing.
It's not something to be done, to be remembered, to be celebrated, one day out of the year. It's a celebration that we're to remember every day. That is to affect us every day.
If you're worried about it "not being special" if you celebrate it more often than one day a year, you're worried about the wrong thing. This is something that should be in the forefront of our minds the whole year. Not forgotten or ignored until the springtime, when we eat fattening foods and give our children candy because that's what all our neighbors are doing.
There are people who only go to church on Easter and Christmas. I don't know about anyone else, but I see a lot of strangers at church on Easter Sunday. People I don't see any other time.
...where are they through the rest of the year? Isn't this important on other days, too?
It seems hypocritical to me. If you're going to call it a religious holiday, and you're going to wax eloquent about it on Easter Sunday, then why not go to church on all the other Sundays? Is it just not as important then? There are many churches in the world that have what's called communion every Sunday. And it's to celebrate the exact same thing as Easter. The only difference? Candy, Easter baskets, colored eggs, and the fact that it happens after the Jewish Passover. The only reason I can think of for making a bigger fuss over Easter than any other Sunday is the timing of it. The rest of it is secular in nature.
I don't celebrate Easter as a religious holiday. (Remember that explanation I promised? Here it is.) America has made it into something else. I'm pretty sure that Easter bunnies and colored eggs have nothing to do with the religious significance of the day. Neither do Easter baskets, jelly beans, or that annoying fake plastic grass that sticks to everything. It's been turned into a holiday that celebrates springtime, chocolate, and a mythical rabbit. Also, it's used to make money. Lots of money.
But I have another reason, too. While I respect the holiday for what it's supposed to be, and the significance of it is important to me, I have no need for it. There are many strong Christian men and women who celebrate Easter as the religious holiday it's meant to be. And I have a lot of respect for that. But I don't need to do that. I celebrate it every Sunday.
The only way that Easter Sunday is different for me than any other Sunday of the year? Basically, candy. That, and I get to spend hours with my family, talking, laughing, and having the annual lame-joke-a-thon taking place at random times throughout the day. (The theme this year was puns, in case anyone was wondering.) The respect, the remembrance, that happens every week.
I celebrate Easter. I don't celebrate it as a religious holiday, but I'll explain that in a minute. Easter is considered a religious holiday by many people. It's widely celebrated as the occasion of Christ's resurrection from the dead. There were sermons, celebrations, conversations, and Facebook posts (one of them mine) about it all over the place. There were lectures, too, reminding people that it's a religious holiday, and the purpose behind the celebration of it.
But.
But...what are you celebrating on the other 364 days of the year? Are you only celebrating this on Easter?
If you're going to lecture, or remind, people about this, why do you only do it on Easter Sunday? Is that the only day it's important? Is that the only day given to us to remember this?
Nope.
First of all, there's a celebration that some of us take part in every Sunday. And it's to remind us of the exact same thing.
It's not something to be done, to be remembered, to be celebrated, one day out of the year. It's a celebration that we're to remember every day. That is to affect us every day.
If you're worried about it "not being special" if you celebrate it more often than one day a year, you're worried about the wrong thing. This is something that should be in the forefront of our minds the whole year. Not forgotten or ignored until the springtime, when we eat fattening foods and give our children candy because that's what all our neighbors are doing.
There are people who only go to church on Easter and Christmas. I don't know about anyone else, but I see a lot of strangers at church on Easter Sunday. People I don't see any other time.
...where are they through the rest of the year? Isn't this important on other days, too?
It seems hypocritical to me. If you're going to call it a religious holiday, and you're going to wax eloquent about it on Easter Sunday, then why not go to church on all the other Sundays? Is it just not as important then? There are many churches in the world that have what's called communion every Sunday. And it's to celebrate the exact same thing as Easter. The only difference? Candy, Easter baskets, colored eggs, and the fact that it happens after the Jewish Passover. The only reason I can think of for making a bigger fuss over Easter than any other Sunday is the timing of it. The rest of it is secular in nature.
I don't celebrate Easter as a religious holiday. (Remember that explanation I promised? Here it is.) America has made it into something else. I'm pretty sure that Easter bunnies and colored eggs have nothing to do with the religious significance of the day. Neither do Easter baskets, jelly beans, or that annoying fake plastic grass that sticks to everything. It's been turned into a holiday that celebrates springtime, chocolate, and a mythical rabbit. Also, it's used to make money. Lots of money.
But I have another reason, too. While I respect the holiday for what it's supposed to be, and the significance of it is important to me, I have no need for it. There are many strong Christian men and women who celebrate Easter as the religious holiday it's meant to be. And I have a lot of respect for that. But I don't need to do that. I celebrate it every Sunday.
The only way that Easter Sunday is different for me than any other Sunday of the year? Basically, candy. That, and I get to spend hours with my family, talking, laughing, and having the annual lame-joke-a-thon taking place at random times throughout the day. (The theme this year was puns, in case anyone was wondering.) The respect, the remembrance, that happens every week.
April 18, 2014
A Mile In Their Shoes
I've been sick for the past couple of days. And along with that, of course, comes the exhaustion, the runny and paradoxically also stuffed up nose, as well as the cough.
Because I've been so tired and feeling so awful, I stayed home from work one day earlier this week. But I had to go into work on Thursday, sick or not.
While I was there, this nice older lady came in to buy a set of guitar strings, and she asked me if I was sick. Apparently it's super obvious. After telling her that yes, I was, indeed, sick, she immediately asked if my hands were really clean. I then said that I could wash them, and she asked me if I was contagious. I didn't know, and told her so. So she felt my forehead, said it would probably be fine, and then insisted, quite strongly, that I either wash my hands or use hand sanitizer before handling her debit card for the purchase.
I found the situation amusing, and decided to make a Facebook status about it. It was pretty simple, and designed to poke fun at how obviously sick I was, that a customer demanded I wash my hands. Someone commented that the woman sounded rude, and I immediately tried to explain that no, she wasn't rude, and I had offered to wash my hands. This woman was very nice, and I wasn't angry or upset with her at all. It was meant to be amusing, not a strike back at someone who annoyed me.
But then another comment was posted, and the tone struck me as accusatory or scolding. It was a bit of a lecture, about how there are some people who can't afford to bring a sickness home with them, and then a mention of how they had almost lost someone dear to them a multitude of times. They then proceeded to point out that I should know this, because I have two family members with chronic pain conditions who have a hard time when they get ill.
Now, I had no issue with washing my hands. I am sick, and I certainly don't want to give it to people.
I had a good reason for going to work, even while sick. And that reason wasn't a selfish one. I went because if I hadn't, a coworker would have had to run the entire store by himself. And that wouldn't have been too bad, except for one thing. This coworker is a double amputee; he had both of his legs removed. He has two prosthetic legs, but he has a hard time walking, and can't go very fast at all. It's hard enough running the store alone when you have two good legs. I couldn't just let him do that by himself.
Which (finally) brings me to the point of this whole post. It's not to get onto the commenter. They had a good point, and one I hadn't thought of before. There certainly are people who have a harder time with illness.
My point is that there are two sides, and listening to or defending one without giving the other equal consideration is both unfair, and unwise.
In this situation, there's the side of the people who could die if they got sick, and then there's the side of the people like me, who have to go to work sick when they'd rather stay at home.
Either side without the other will produce a flawed judgment. And, better yet, people will choose and fight for one side when they haven't seen or heard what the other side is thinking, believing, or is motivated by. This makes for an unfair, illogical battle of wills.
To make an informed choice, you need to know at least the basics of all sides of an issue. You need to be willing to admit that you might be wrong,, and willing to take the necessary steps to fix it if you are.
You have to be willing to look seriously at what the other side believes, and work from common ground.
When I made the decision to go to work, I wasn't thinking about the people who could get seriously ill by coming into contact with me. I made a decision without thinking through all the ramifications. I realized this to some extent when that lady insisted I wash my hands. Because I realized that, I had no issue with doing as she asked. I'm sick. I'm working. The people I'm there to help had every right to request such an action.
I understood the other side, and acted in a way that would benefit them once I recognized a valid secondary point of view. Ideally, that understanding should have come before I decided to work. But since it did not, I had to work with what I had at the time. Which was hand sanitizer and a willingness to wash my hands.
The comment on my status surprised me, and it was a little upsetting. It struck me as an accusation. Like I was being accused of not caring about others. In reality, I was at work because I do care about others. I would have much rather stayed at home. I didn't want to be there. I was tired, I was feeling awful, and I had to act cheerful, answer phones and questions, and basically pretend to be well. I didn't go out of some misguided selfishness. I dragged myself out of bed, made myself look somewhat human, and went to work for eight hours out of concern for someone else.
Before you draw a negative conclusion about someone's actions, before you lecture and/or attack them for something they say or do, try to understand their motivations. Try to understand the situation. I know that the person who commented is a kind and caring person - who also wished me quick healing in the same comment that so disturbed me. They just didn't have the whole story.
So, think about it. Before you jump into righteously defending a just cause, make sure it really needs defending. You might just be preaching to the converted.
Because I've been so tired and feeling so awful, I stayed home from work one day earlier this week. But I had to go into work on Thursday, sick or not.
While I was there, this nice older lady came in to buy a set of guitar strings, and she asked me if I was sick. Apparently it's super obvious. After telling her that yes, I was, indeed, sick, she immediately asked if my hands were really clean. I then said that I could wash them, and she asked me if I was contagious. I didn't know, and told her so. So she felt my forehead, said it would probably be fine, and then insisted, quite strongly, that I either wash my hands or use hand sanitizer before handling her debit card for the purchase.
I found the situation amusing, and decided to make a Facebook status about it. It was pretty simple, and designed to poke fun at how obviously sick I was, that a customer demanded I wash my hands. Someone commented that the woman sounded rude, and I immediately tried to explain that no, she wasn't rude, and I had offered to wash my hands. This woman was very nice, and I wasn't angry or upset with her at all. It was meant to be amusing, not a strike back at someone who annoyed me.
But then another comment was posted, and the tone struck me as accusatory or scolding. It was a bit of a lecture, about how there are some people who can't afford to bring a sickness home with them, and then a mention of how they had almost lost someone dear to them a multitude of times. They then proceeded to point out that I should know this, because I have two family members with chronic pain conditions who have a hard time when they get ill.
Now, I had no issue with washing my hands. I am sick, and I certainly don't want to give it to people.
I had a good reason for going to work, even while sick. And that reason wasn't a selfish one. I went because if I hadn't, a coworker would have had to run the entire store by himself. And that wouldn't have been too bad, except for one thing. This coworker is a double amputee; he had both of his legs removed. He has two prosthetic legs, but he has a hard time walking, and can't go very fast at all. It's hard enough running the store alone when you have two good legs. I couldn't just let him do that by himself.
Which (finally) brings me to the point of this whole post. It's not to get onto the commenter. They had a good point, and one I hadn't thought of before. There certainly are people who have a harder time with illness.
My point is that there are two sides, and listening to or defending one without giving the other equal consideration is both unfair, and unwise.
In this situation, there's the side of the people who could die if they got sick, and then there's the side of the people like me, who have to go to work sick when they'd rather stay at home.
Either side without the other will produce a flawed judgment. And, better yet, people will choose and fight for one side when they haven't seen or heard what the other side is thinking, believing, or is motivated by. This makes for an unfair, illogical battle of wills.
To make an informed choice, you need to know at least the basics of all sides of an issue. You need to be willing to admit that you might be wrong,, and willing to take the necessary steps to fix it if you are.
You have to be willing to look seriously at what the other side believes, and work from common ground.
When I made the decision to go to work, I wasn't thinking about the people who could get seriously ill by coming into contact with me. I made a decision without thinking through all the ramifications. I realized this to some extent when that lady insisted I wash my hands. Because I realized that, I had no issue with doing as she asked. I'm sick. I'm working. The people I'm there to help had every right to request such an action.
I understood the other side, and acted in a way that would benefit them once I recognized a valid secondary point of view. Ideally, that understanding should have come before I decided to work. But since it did not, I had to work with what I had at the time. Which was hand sanitizer and a willingness to wash my hands.
The comment on my status surprised me, and it was a little upsetting. It struck me as an accusation. Like I was being accused of not caring about others. In reality, I was at work because I do care about others. I would have much rather stayed at home. I didn't want to be there. I was tired, I was feeling awful, and I had to act cheerful, answer phones and questions, and basically pretend to be well. I didn't go out of some misguided selfishness. I dragged myself out of bed, made myself look somewhat human, and went to work for eight hours out of concern for someone else.
Before you draw a negative conclusion about someone's actions, before you lecture and/or attack them for something they say or do, try to understand their motivations. Try to understand the situation. I know that the person who commented is a kind and caring person - who also wished me quick healing in the same comment that so disturbed me. They just didn't have the whole story.
So, think about it. Before you jump into righteously defending a just cause, make sure it really needs defending. You might just be preaching to the converted.
April 10, 2014
Wield Your Weapons Wisely
"Let's go somewhere else. This place is terrible."
I've heard that. Most of us probably have. I think most of us have probably said it, too.
I heard it recently, and it bothered me. It bothered me because someone said it about the place where I work. They're entitled to their opinions, of course. I've heard many more in the opposite direction, so it's not necessarily indicative of the business itself, or of my coworkers or me.
But it brought an interesting subject to mind that should probably be more important to all of us.
Words.
Those sentences I heard weren't gossip. But the aggravating nature of them reminded me of the damage gossip can do. The pain and rumors it can cause, and the fact that it's nothing more than words.
Words can ruin a reputation, even if they aren't true. Words can harm. They can, and have, been used as a weapon.
Many people have forgotten what words are, and what they are for.
Words are tools. And, like any tool, they can be misused to such an extent that it can be considered criminal.
Words are like martial arts, and martial arts are beneficial in many ways. They can be used to defend. If you're attacked in the street, you can fight to protect yourself and escape relatively unharmed. Practicing them improves your health, and being a practitioner for long periods of time also increases confidence.
But. Martial arts can be misused. The techniques taught are dangerous to another person, and can be used to take a life. If the practitioner is irresponsible or immature, someone can be harmed. You can even hurt yourself if something is taught or practiced improperly.
Martial arts are a lot like words.
Words are beneficial in many ways. They bring us closer to our fellows by allowing us to express thoughts, emotions, opinions. You can stop a physical fight with words, just as you can with physical action. Being able to speak can be therapeutic.
But words can be used irresponsibly as well. If you speak without thinking, you can harm just as surely as you can by punching without making sure the way is clear. Using them when the situation doesn't call for it is just as damaging as a kick to the face. Perhaps even more so; everyone knows how to treat a bruise or a bloody nose, but when it comes to emotional damage, it's harder. Not only is it not immediately obvious, but everyone is different, and the same things don't affect us all equally.
Like a punch or kick, words are tools with specific uses. Like a punch or kick, they can be used improperly.
Years of difficult and specialized training are utilized to prepare a martial artist for the responsibility such knowledge and power requires. Should we not use the same principles in teaching children to speak?
Should we not train them to speak only when something positive will come from it? And should we not teach them by training ourselves?
Wield your weapons wisely. You never know who you may be hurting.
I've heard that. Most of us probably have. I think most of us have probably said it, too.
I heard it recently, and it bothered me. It bothered me because someone said it about the place where I work. They're entitled to their opinions, of course. I've heard many more in the opposite direction, so it's not necessarily indicative of the business itself, or of my coworkers or me.
But it brought an interesting subject to mind that should probably be more important to all of us.
Words.
Those sentences I heard weren't gossip. But the aggravating nature of them reminded me of the damage gossip can do. The pain and rumors it can cause, and the fact that it's nothing more than words.
Words can ruin a reputation, even if they aren't true. Words can harm. They can, and have, been used as a weapon.
Many people have forgotten what words are, and what they are for.
Words are tools. And, like any tool, they can be misused to such an extent that it can be considered criminal.
Words are like martial arts, and martial arts are beneficial in many ways. They can be used to defend. If you're attacked in the street, you can fight to protect yourself and escape relatively unharmed. Practicing them improves your health, and being a practitioner for long periods of time also increases confidence.
But. Martial arts can be misused. The techniques taught are dangerous to another person, and can be used to take a life. If the practitioner is irresponsible or immature, someone can be harmed. You can even hurt yourself if something is taught or practiced improperly.
Martial arts are a lot like words.
Words are beneficial in many ways. They bring us closer to our fellows by allowing us to express thoughts, emotions, opinions. You can stop a physical fight with words, just as you can with physical action. Being able to speak can be therapeutic.
But words can be used irresponsibly as well. If you speak without thinking, you can harm just as surely as you can by punching without making sure the way is clear. Using them when the situation doesn't call for it is just as damaging as a kick to the face. Perhaps even more so; everyone knows how to treat a bruise or a bloody nose, but when it comes to emotional damage, it's harder. Not only is it not immediately obvious, but everyone is different, and the same things don't affect us all equally.
Like a punch or kick, words are tools with specific uses. Like a punch or kick, they can be used improperly.
Years of difficult and specialized training are utilized to prepare a martial artist for the responsibility such knowledge and power requires. Should we not use the same principles in teaching children to speak?
Should we not train them to speak only when something positive will come from it? And should we not teach them by training ourselves?
Wield your weapons wisely. You never know who you may be hurting.
