The Twilight Zone

Hey y'all! I hope you've been well, as have I. But I must admit than more than well I've been... different. In a good way.

See, of late I've felt wonderful and strong but I've cried loads as well. I've worried and not cared, I've been fed up and cinical and exploded and then been totally blissful and radiant and then angry and dissappointed. I don't remember being happier at times, and at others I can barely recognize myself. A few friends are actually worried!

I've allowed myself to be very pissed off and I've allowed myself to show it. And others to suffer it. But believe me, they had it coming.

And all this 'cuz I got too tired. And when I'm too tired, it can be an issue to others because they don't know what the heck to do with me. Deference, subtleness dry up in me and I become direct and even a tad bit heartless beyond this point of no return where there is just no freakin' stopping me and I don't give a damn how ruthless I am.

I passed that point recently. It felt great for me, very liberating. Others... not so much. I'm sorry if I hurt anyone, but I don't want to take back anything I said or did, or say and do. I can't anyway so whatever.

Overall, my tolerance for crap has diminished a great deal. I might be going over the edge a bit, and truth be told I lost it but there's only so much I can do. I am now deep within the twilight zone.

I just hope I don't over do it and am smart about it all.

Wish me the best!

Growing Up Stage by Stage

I've been thinking about the diferent stages of maturity and of the process as a whole. This is of course based on my own experience but I suppose it's the same for everyone. I'll tell you how it's been in my particularly case though. My starting point is college...

Growing up Stage by Stage

So I'm a freshman studying international relationships, and in less that a year I am also with child and married. Fast huh? Though I continued to go to the university while at the same time I tried to wrap my head around being a mom and a wife, my rationality was only slightly distrurbed, whereas I was in a stage I shall call Sheep Nature. I did what I thought best (which curiously enough was in line with most "authority figures" point of views) and kept going, kept walking, led docily. I was a young student/mom with an inherently sweet smile, a (usually) pacifying nature and high boiling point. Which invited help that allowed me to continue my education, and for which I am deeply grateful. Cooking recipes, house keeping tips, and how to be a "proper"wife included.

Sounds good huh? It's obvious that I was pretty passive, allowing what might be considered a certain amount of doting to come my way. The fact that I made very few decisions and had little to do with what happened around me didn't bother me, I just felt thankful and a little guilty.

However, this knowledge started to gnaw on me. I needed help, that's for sure, but did I really need it that badly? Did the fact that I was in my early twenties make me less apt to be a mother than older women? Or my nomadic past? Was I particularly sloppy in my housekeeping because of my upbringing? Did a appear to be meek and childish? Weak? Was I?

Some how, I felt like a little girl, not as capable as I'd felt before. I started to become more sensible to the condescention that was implied each time I received help. Frases like "she can't help it," "what can you expect if it's not what she's used to?" stung deep within me. Even the dumbest, littlest thing would silently aggravate me, and even though I knew they were meant with the best intentions, with no maliciousness at all, the mere amount of this kind of events started to piss me off.

And so began my Rebelious Stage. I began to be respondona, to talk back which apparently didn't add up to my "sweet"nature. True to my diplomatic calling, I don't believe I was ever rude though I was called cheeky on several occassions. I started to try and put emotional, even physical distance with what bothered me even if it made my workload bit heavier. And I started to let go, even reject, some of the guilt I'd felt up until then.

Before, there had been few times that I  had refused a suggestion. And when I did I would have this apolegetic smile, like a child humoring an adult as he got away with something he wanted. That's changed now, and though I still have that tendency with specific people, it's started to decrease as my guilt ebbs away. .

I'm not a lightbulb, but I have a brain and know how to use it. Perhaps my grades don't always reflect that, but they're not bad either. If you consider the relatively small amount of time I dedicate to studying, you can also imagine how well I'd do I organized my time better.

I won't wring your neck if you change the TV show I was watching, or if you insist I use a certain dress instead of the one I'd already chosen for a wedding. Being at I odds with others is common, and I won't win every dispute I'm presented with. So I chose my battles. I don't fight those that I don't really care about. But don't think I'm instinctively acquiescent lest you wish to be unpleasantly suprised.

The rest of the process is all blended together because I'm still in the midst of it. I sometimes feel like a crab, taking one step forward and one step back... sometimes I feel like I've finally achieved Independence, but since I'm not totally used to it I start to Wobble and doubt and lean on others.

I feel vulnerable, telling y'all about this. But at the same time it's like a Confirmation of my progress, evidence of my goals and a refusal to go back. You're my witness, and this is the commitment that I've made with myself.

Thank you for reading, and I hope your own process is going well.

Love,
Nancy B.

On Angels and Devils

I was on the bus the other day reading a marvelous book when taken over by a thought that grew into the following text. I wanted to share it with you. It's not what I would call polished, but it's mine and I own myself blunt or polished or whatever.

A word of warning: sometimes I talk (or write) funny/weird when I feel philosophical or just plain silly, and this was one such time. I could edit my writting to make it more "normal," but then again why would I want to? Please bear with me.

On Devils and Angels

It is said that devils walk where angels fear to tread. Yet what distinguishes the two? For spiritual truth left aside, aren't we all devils and angels at the same time?

I for one wish no one harm but am far from being a saint. In my human state I sometimes hurt unknowingly and without malice out of carelessness or ingnorance, sometimes have the reaction of a wounded animal that bites back. Though motive and context may be understood, I'm afraid a hurt can't be justified by these, and by this judgement mankind and I as a whole are found at fault.

Some more devilish, some more angelic. The proportion may vary but these two aren't mutually exclusive. Not quite a devil. Not quite an angel. But a woman. A man. A being. While our humanness condemns us because of our nature, we are also blessed because of it. We are capable of friendship. Of goodness. Of love. And more.

Truth is hard to find and hard to give when a heart has been hurt, and yet the noblest most angelic actions always involve reaching towards another heart. To lend a hand, share an insight, give a kiss or share a mind while at the same time being vulnerable to hurt or be hurt... what is more human than this?

Thus, I embrace the angel in me in to the same degree as my devil as to avoid madness and tearing in myself and others. And really it would be worse for me if I didn't.

And that was that.

Remember Cracks on the Sidewalk? It's kinda the same, my bad side belongs to me as much as my good side. If I try and deny it and pretend I'm all sweets and flowers, it'll be like sweeping dust under the bed. At some time it'll come out and bite my behind you know? Like my sweet Edmund Pevensie once said, "If there's a wasp in the room, I'd like to be able to see it."

We all have our inner "demons," negative traits that we are prone to have. Some can be harmfull, others not so much, but even something as dumb as being lazy will hinder you in life, and there are more dangerous vices. There are also times when your particular "devil" can be a blessing in disguise for yourself or others. For example, a rebel that stands agains a cruel government would be mistakenly called a devil by some.

Be carefull with what is "acceptable" or not. Does society dictate what is good and what is bad? Make sure that your criteria is yours, and make sure to debug what feeds it as well.

The only person that can legitimately judge you is you. So weight your actions and your motives, keep a short leash on what need be, but be kind to yourself. Keep your angel close and your devils closer.

Know thyself.

To Stand Whilst Sitting Down

Yo! How’ve you been? I’ve been, you know been. Vacations have been on for a while now, and I’ve been lazing my head off, if I’m allowed to invent a word or two. Really, after a difficult semester it’s only fair. Also, I don’t have internet at my home right now, so when I do get internet access I do as most mortals do on such occasions… and head straight to Facebook to catch up on what my friends have been up to. Don’t you just love how FB has legitimized being nosy?

Anyhoo… as to my person, like absolutely everything else that exists in this world, changes these past few weeks have made their appearance. You too, but you know me I like to document consciousness. Does that sound weird? Sure hope not, I'm just a strong supporter of knowing oneself as I’ve mentioned several times before in my posts, and I try to live and write according to what I think. Whatevs…

These changes haven’t been physical, or personality, or behavior wise. They’ve been paradigm wise. Some of the more mentally and physically exhausting I’ve been through. Why? Because we all think we’re so clever and have everything figured out and have excuses for everything except for the mistakes or faults of others. But as for ourselves, we minimize  our errors, and justify like we majored in law. To voluntarily humble yourself, accept that you’re wrong and care enough to do something about it. That’s a tad hard. And that’s what I’ve been up to.

I dunno if you ‘ve noticed, but I like myself. With my good and bad qualities, my good and bad moments. I know I’m not a genious, nor a model, nor a saint but find contentment in knowing that I try hard each day to be better. Except when I become too comfortable and allow more… mediocreness (Hmmm, I sure hope that word's in the dictionary) that I usually would.
 
I knew I wasn't doing my best, but I didn’t care as much as I should’ve. It led to conflicts with Hubby, and reflecting upon this situation, I uprooted a few things about my character that I had to work on. Like thinking I’m so clever I don’t need advice on x or y. I take my own parameters and think they’re precise, and stop taking into account The Parameters that supposedly guide me, as well as Hubbys’ parameters, which can be very different from my own.

To compromise is not something I’m very good at, because I tend to give away or commit to more that I actually feel comfortable with, and I’m kinda stubborn. To illustrate this trait, I lean on the example of a child who is told to sit, and eventually forced to sit, but says “in my insides I’m actually standing up!” You get the idea.

Only sometimes you’re wrong, and you should be humble and sit down on the outside as well as on the inside where only you know what you’re thinking. And this is the lesson I recently learned. Or at least, I’m in the process of learning, because old habits, particularly mental habits, where everything we do or don’t do starts, die hard. I’ve tried to not draw it out nor blow it out of proportion, so I’m taking more preventive actions rather than damage control. But I’m glad I’m learning this now and not later when it’s harder to change.

Humbleness, I welcome you. Please stay!

Don't Grow Up... It's a Trap! - part I

I recently saw a very funny pic that caught my attention. It said " Don't grow up.. It's a trap!" (See pic). And I couldn't agree more. Don't get me wrong, I'm not referring to youthful irresponsability nor anything like it. There's just a huge difference between growing up, growing old and ripening.

From my view point, growing up is something like conforming or adapting to the "adult" world: go to school, or get a job,to work, to become boring, get married, have kids, pay your taxes...etc. To a certain extent we can't escape from this, it's natural that life goes on and our circumstances and responsibilities have to change, but not necesarily us you know. I'm sure a regular individual is capable of retaining the essentials of their character as the years pass by even though their personality adapts and morphs depending on the circumstances.

Remember that our character depends on the inner traits that distinguish us from others, while personality is the mask we show the world, the way we face it. Maybe you have a playful nature, but when you're in a bussiness meeting you won't display that trait very often will you? Though there is a time and a place for everything, one is genuine in proportion to how the personality reflects the character. Growing up does mean being more "responsable", but the process doesn't have to change you, much less force you to conform to the likings of others or become "boring."

Growing old... is a sad, sad thing. Physically aging is not sad: what's sad is when as a person grows older and their mind is too lazy or just doesn't want to mature at the same rate. And so, we have thirty year olds, forty year olds that behave like teenagers and have tantrums like little kids. They don't understand the value of responsability, of a relationship... worse still, if they got married or have kids. It's one thing to be feckless, and another thing completely to drag others into it, specially children. The poor little things have paid way too many times for their parents mistakes.

And last of all, my favorite: Ripening. Just like a delicious fruit that you savor when it's ripe... that's what we should all aim at. It's knowing oneself, and respecting and appreciating oneself with the passing of time. We're all so wonderful and full of life and energy as children... wouldn't it be great if we could somehow keep and project all of that as adults? Sure, it's not the same things that worry us as children and as adults, and the latter are also much more tired as the norm, but isn't it worth the effort?

To accept oneself, to love oneself... to be proud of who you are. To allow our minds to be suprised by the big and little things... to smile as a butterfly passes by, to wonder where the leaves in the wind have been, to ask questions... to be like children in our hearts. What an incredible gift not only to ourselves, but to those that will follow in our footsteps, those around us. It's so easy to go with the flow and allow ourselves to give in to that frown more often, to wear a scowl, to answer bitingly instead of looking for a positive solution. But let's not give in: it is well worth it.

 Let's all ripen shall we? We'll enjoy life so much more.

The Internal Sea

How deep the ocean is, and the sea with its many colors and eternal waves. With the life inside it, and its currents, and its stillness.

It's bliss to imagine all the wonders, the mysteries, the stories it holds but just like the ocean inside us most prefer to wade near the shore and just touch the surface.

They're content when their reflection shows them what they want, upset when it doesn't, but only truly happy when it shows them who they really are.

However, they'll end up returning to the beach.

Why restrict the ocean to its limit when there is so much strength and beauty trying to burst from its within? Take a dip in your sea, in your emotions, dreams, desires and more.

Don't be afraid of getting lost because only then will you find yourself. Don't be afraid to drown because you were meant to swim and not just that.

For only sailors that know the sea can sail to far away places.

The art of digressing

I feel like this is a confession of some sort.

As you know, I am very fond of digressing. Allowing my thought to wander, becoming seemingly more random as I get more and more ambiguous... It would seem as if my thoughts start to become disjointed, unrelated... but do they? Truth is, I (usually) say what I say and do what I do following a path of some sort that only I know. Sometimes my object as I seem to  verbally wander aimlessly is to amuse myself, sometimes to amuse and confuse others, sometimes to create a distraction and cloak something else.

The mode may vary, depending on my audience, my purpose, the theme, and of course my mood.

Sometimes the people that sample my digressions are close friends and can more or less understand depending on how well they know me. In these cases, depending on how much I want them to understand I also tend to give less sutil hints with my gestures and my eyes. With strangers I don't digress very often, and in the rare case I do I'm just amusing them or myself but not letting them in on any substance like I do with friends.

I have two main purposes when I digress. One is for amusement, another is for expressing myself. But I mix them very often, one leading to another. For example, I might start with something trivial and play with the subject, displaying an exagerated version of my scatterbrainyness. My friends are amused, and I'm having a good time. But if I have the need to express myself without needing others to understand I will do so in a veiled manner, keeping in tune with my lighthearted joking and messing around. But if you actually make sense of what I say, and you know me, you might understand what I mean. What I want to say, but don't necessarily want you to understand.

The theme... well you can imagine. The more personal, the more dim and in breadcrumbs I am. The less, the more literal. Then again, I can be very literal but say things in such a manner that I seem to be speaking in metaphors. I love to play with different elements of ambiguity.

My mood... well I have to feel good to digress because for me it's another way of being playful. When I'm angry or frustrated or sad I become very blunt and to the point. So the opposite feelings like being carefree, lead me to beat around the bush, to digress.

I recently talked to a friend about this matter, and laughed myself silly. See, back in high school when I felt more like digressing (just in case you haven't realized it yet, this sentence has a hint: refer to last paragraph), some of my friends actually thought there was something wrong with me! Like I had an attention deficit disorder or something! I thought they knew I was fooling around! I mean sure, I never explained this to them, but still! Oh the funnies...!

Though I now hug myself with glee at their being so naive, this makes me value my friends more. Even though they thought there was something wrong with me, they never made fun of me, nor made me feel less. They were always sweet, always genuine. I was very lucky to meet such people, and am luckier for still having them as friends.

I don't know if any of you are reading this, but thank you friends. Thanks for putting up with me even if you didn't understand me. I love y'all! :)

Wisps of smoke

I confess myself a complex and contradictory being, with halfhearted whims, powerful outbreaks and irrational inconsistencies. A romantic and realistic heart and soul. I thrive in my silent contemplations, as I close my eyes and free my soul forgetting reason and reality and I am a queen and a pauper, a danser, a damsel, and a poet.

As a queen I am haughty and arch my neck and my head bows to no one. And my choice is backed by power and I relish in it and in the power of my decisions. And I choose to be cruel or forgiving and the realization of each caprice and desire of mine depends on my wish of making them true or not.

And then I am a pauper and I thirst water and hunger bread. And I am thankful for each drop of rain that quenches my thirst and for each morsel that no matter the taste I find delicious because I managed to eat. And I thank the warm wind for being my coat and the world for being my home.

Then a noise arouses me from my slumber and my eyes open once more and I am who I used to be. And I stroke my babys hair and I caress her cheek as she sleeps and then so do I.

When again I see I am a passionate dancer and my skirt swirls like a river and my steps have the beat of fire. My hands and my eyes speak with each move, each stop, each curve I make soundlessly. And I am an object of awe and admiration, completely out of reach and slightly out of mind.

Then there is silence and my dress is bleached and the wild in my eye disappears and I am a sweet and fragile damsel. And I clutch at my throat and I shut my eyes and hug my knees and hide. I am scared and shut my heart and my mind and lie still in the pureness of my soul.

When I stand I am poet and my lips tingle and my eyelids bat and my stomach quivers from feelings that aren't there. And my love and my woes, my hopes and my fears pour out of my heart and my soul until I feel empty but find this emptiness oddly filling and satisfaction is mine. 

I am a somewhat ashamed and somewhat proud that I allowed these wisps of smoke escape from my mind while the thoughts and desires that mothered them have never yet seen the sun and the window of their materializing is incredibly small. 

And I pretend I am not all these things and I pretend that I am too.

And they exist. And they do not.

5 Minutes in College: Identity Development

I read a book during this past break totally unrelated to my area (so refreshing!) It was a book about learning a second language and it was filled with reports regarding this matter. There were all kind of investigations in there, some really interesting, some terribly boring. But one caught my eye particularly. It was about learning a second language like all the rest, but what really interested me was the psycology and sociology in it.

It was about how a persons identity can cause them to try and learn a second language.  So I've rescued this for y'all, the different stages an individual passes before they have an established identity.

The first stage of an indivudual developing his or her identity is called Identity of Diffusion. A person in this stage is easily impressionable, can change his/her mind easily, and is not commited to any particular identity or group and therefore theres is no identity crisis or identity at all really.

The second stage is Foreclosed Status. There is commitment to an identity and a set of values but these don't stem from the individual. Rather, these come from others like parents, peers or friends.

Next is Moratorium Status. At this stage there is an identity crisis and the individual actively searching for solutions and a genuine identity. They can experiment different things, until they're sure of what they really like and want. Once this stage is overcome, is...

Identity Achieved Status, you must have a good idea of what this involves, so I'll mention a quote that totally ilustrated it. These individuals are:

"In harmony with themselves, accept their capabilities, limitations and opportunities."

Need more be said?

So there you go. It feels like common knowledge, but I suppose it's good to remember information like this, especially when dealing with teenagers. In fact, most of this research was aimed at eighteen to twenty-something year olds. I suppose this process can begin a lot earlier, but when you finish high school you usually have to figure it out over again for good I guess. As for me, I think I'm somewhere between the latter two stages x )

I hope you enjoyed these 5 minutes in college. See ya! :)

PS: I was going to include bibliography, but I got them all muddled up so if you're interested and want to know the books directly, you can contact me through a comment, and I'd be happy to point you in the right direction.

Mr. Responsibility

I know I’ve been gone for a while, but let me share something I’ve learnt recently. As a woman. As a wife. As a mom.

I’ve got a truckload of responsibility.

Thankfully, I’ve got a truckload of potential as well, but that’s not enough. Hold on though, my head isn’t as blown up as you’re thinking right now. We all have a truckload of potential behind us. Male, female, child or adult. However, it doesn’t matter as much as you’d think. Why? Because potential isn’t something solid you can use. It’s what you can do, what you can be. Truth be told, it’s totally and completely useless.

I did say I was thankful for that useless bunch of crap, so don’t get me wrong. It’ll always come in handy. Its right there, ready to explode and be used in incredible, unique ways. The hard part is working your but off to be able to use it.

That said, allow me to return to my original statement. See, Responsibility is actually the last name of a person named Privilege. Middle name, Joy. You can’t have one without the others because they’re all one person, and to know this person is to be whole. Now then, Mr. Responsibility (yes, I know Joy is a girl’s name, but work with me people, it’s a metaphor) isn’t very popular, but that’s because most people don’t know him very well. Most don’t even know his first name, much less his middle name! He is an amazing person once you do get to know him though. He’ll take you places you’d never imagined you could go. He’ll help/make you do things you didn’t even know you could do. He’ll give you such insights and wisdom that you’ll forever forget what boredom was, because all you’ll see is purpose, happiness and growth in everything you do and everywhere you go.

FYI, I just met him. In fact, I’m afraid we’re very slight acquaintances. Being dead honest, I’ve only seen him pass by a couple times, and he was miles away. He seems nice though, and very welcoming and ready, even eager, to help you. Maybe a little too eager, with all the responsibility you’re forced on as you grow older and hopefully, more mature. But believe me, it is very well worth it.

Home is my responsibility. My husband, my daughter. Privilege is being responsible of achieving harmony in my home, warmth and peace for my husband, loving protection and fun discovery for my daughter. Joy is every single second in between. This is my area of expertise, what I’m supposed to specialize in.

As for myself, I’ve still got a long, long way to go. The streak of feminism that marked my teenage years is gone, but it left a yearning of personal growth in its place, and a wish to help others grow as well.

And so, with this new paradox of life, and the goals I’ve set for myself I repeat, I’ve got a truckload of responsibility/privilege. A lifetime of joy. I am just so freakin’ blessed!!! I could tell you in hard numbers what all this is translated to in my life, and I might later on, but this is that, in its purest state.