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.

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! :)

Scottish Garden

"If I ever do grow up," said she, "I want to be like that."
"Oh yes Odette, those flowers are very beautiful."
"Flowers? Yes, they're nice. But I'm not cut out to be a wall flower ma'am, I want to be as strong and as sturdy as that wall."

Forks

You know, my reading has been very ecclectic of late: with common ground, but contradictory. With repeated themes but viewed with different paradymes. Some well known, some totally unknown. Subjects ranging as far as psychology, phylosophy, religion, politics... (I've been using my bus time well! x) If I allowed these new thoughts true entry into my brain and heart they would pivot me in new ways and new paths.

No matter what I read I'm usually very good at filtering the new information into
a) The brain. Archived as information or culture, but not really letting it seep into me or
b) My heart. Where I allow thoughts the liberty to materialize in my behavior or worldview.

But now my own logic has been trying to make me adjust my judgement. So I would come back with my head full of new information and my heart filled with confusion.

Thankfully, the wave has passed and reflecting on all this I've come to see this process in a different light.

Of course I'll find different viewpoints than I'm used to if I don't discriminate my readings. If I wanted to avoid the clash of ideas I would discriminate what I read and shut myself up in my comfort zone. But I don't want to do that, I refuse.

On the other hand, it's perfectly normal to encounter new things, it's healthy. It's part of the thesis + antithesis = sinthesis that flows in this dialectic world. It's necessary.

Hmmm...

On creating

Process of creation and an everyday application

1.- Question and defy your area of interest. Ask yourself questions about it, imagine it differently.

I loose so much time on the bus! Drat... I get so bored and I'm tired and hungry. Hmmm... I wonder if I can do something about it... The ride would be a lot more fun if they pasted up comic books on the walls  of the bus... then again that would become boring at some point as well... What if they put up flatscreens? Naaaa, given they weren't stolen, it'd be troublesome choosing a channel with so much people... Maybe a disco ball...?

2.- Research on the subject of your interest as to find other alternatives.

Is there any shorter route I can take? Do any friends ride the same bus? Well, it takes about 45 minutes for it to get me home, what can I do in 45 minutes? It's always extremely full at 2:15 more or less, if I use it earlier at least I won't get pushed around and maybe I'll even find an empty seat! 

3.- Abandon your problem and put distance between it and you. Let your unconscious work on it.

Yeah well, it's not like I can make the driver go any faster... whatever... at least I'm only a few blocks away from my stop now... A peter piper picked a peck o' pickled peppers...

4.- Try and find a solution with the information you've got and whatever you came up with unconsciously.

Well, I gotta use the bus tomorrow again. 45 minutes... I can't do homework because of the constant movement, no friend uses the same bus I do... what can I do, what can I do... Kareoke? Nope, they'd just kick me off... what about a book that I don't have to read analytically? That way it doesn't matter if I'm distracted or hungry, I'll be more interested in the book! Also, I'll feel more relaxed when I get home to do homework!

5.- Try your hypothesis

Well, I got a book from Isabele Allende from the library today: those have enough imagination to last me a good 45 minutes. (gets on bus, opens book with one hand while she holds on with the other) Hmmm... hmmm... hahahahahaha... wow... odd... yay!... Wait hold on this is my stop! (hurries off the bus in a nick of time) Phew! That driver must've been in a hurry, I got here so fast! Then again, 45 minutes've passed since I got on the bus... 

6.- Acknowledge your creation and relish in its freshness and usefulness.

Yay! I can finally read non-school related books! You heard me! I'm reading fiction again baby! And when I finish this one, I'm gonna read Jack Londons' "The call of the wild" again!

To walk and to digress

I walk down a street and look a lot but don't always see. I think back, remember and recall, and as the picture comes back to me I really do See.

I remember the beautiful flower shops I saw that day. The stunning colors and hues and shapes. The fragrant smell but I walk past it.

I remember this old woman begging on the side of the road. She's always there in the afternoon,  think someone leaves her at noon and picks her up at dusk. Sometimes I can give her a little money, sometimes I can't, but still I walk past her.

I remember these guys that whistled as I passed by. I can't avoid feeling flattered and disgusted since I know that they'll do the same to the next girl that passes. And so, feeling indifferent and uncomfortable, I walk past them.

I think of my past and of my present, but rarely in my future. That I'll leave to the infrequent but undeniably periodic  insomnia that sometimes haunts me. I think in hard facts of what I've done and what I've got to do during the day: I can only fantasize whilst stillnes surrounds me. I account this and walk past it.

I keep walking and walking for the sake of exercise and my mind wanders again and again as the closet philosopher that I am blooms in this silence. I cherish this alone time because I know that as soon as I'm home and needed I will walk past it and become practical and available to the world. Whereas I walk in my lonesome I am not.

I've found that the difference between Looking and Seeing is both emotional and mental. To See you don't always need to Look, because you See when you think about what you're experimenting, or how it makes you feel. When you think and when you feel you See because you get mentally or emotionally involved. To Look without Seeing is cynical, but let's not forget that if cynical had a good side, it would be a self defense issue taken to the extreme.

And so, I am thankfull for this lonely walk because of the physical benefits of walking, and the mental and emotional ones of being free to be in silent contemplation. And I am also thankfull for its end, because it means I am blessed with time with my loved ones once more.

PD: The cherry tree has nothing to do with this post, but I just love this pic I found on the internet! Also, I think it ilustrates a little the dreamy haze I sometimes experiment when I digress in this manner. 

For us non techies out there

I've recently made a few changes to my blog to try and personalize it a bit more. I bet it could be more glam, but it's definetly more me so I like it! ; ) Anyhoo, I don't really deserve the credit because I am no designer myself, I just logged into The Cutest Blog on the Block and choose from all the different templates and buttons and blinkies and banners, that're just way too pretty!

If you can't afford to pay a designer to have a pretty blog, or are not a designer yourself, you should really look into it.  The instructions are also so easy, that even a technology impaired person like me had no excuse no have a boring looking blog. Unless the writting is exquisite that is: I am far from judging a book by it's cover. Otherwise, where would I be?!

Did you see my roses? Aren't they just droll!? Or the "Love" button? And I just adore the button that says "My Blog is an unedited version of myself". In fact, I'm thinking about adding this other button that says "Today's Menu: Take it or Leave it!", but I'm not sure I want to over button...

Do I mind? No, not really

You know where I was ten minutes ago? I was peacefully tucked in bed. I could hear Hubbys' calm breathing on the other end of the bed and Belle Filles' warm back. Sleepily dozing off, as the sand man did his magic... until I got a message on my cell phone.

Now? I'm stuck in front of the freakin' laptop fighting to keep my tired eyes open waiting for a video I'm supposed to edit and digest for a presentation for tomorrows' first class. I was also supposed to have received it a couple hours before, but as you see I didn't. I'd actually given up on it and gone to bed, but no such luck. And the darned video hasn't been sent yet. I can only assume I was abruptly awakened by a heads up.

This semester the teachers have been bent on us learning about "teamwork" and we've been assigned several papers and stuff in groups. And that's great, really. We all need to work on those kind of skills, at least me. And the groups I'm in are actually quite good. Sure, I've had my share of stumbles along the way and here I am risen from my slumber to do a darned paper but all is well. Sorta. Ask me in the morning in my sleep deprived state.

PD: You know I've been here for more than half an hour waiting for the blessed thing? I even had the time to blog about it and it still hasn't arrived so I obviously haven't been able to even start it yet. No big deal...

Talk to the shoe (pump's got attitude)

You know one of lifes' paradox, at least in my case? Shoes. I looove shoes. But I am so darn picky! Coming to look for shoes with me can tire anyone, especially my hubby who buys them.

What about these? Thay're nice.
Yeah... I nod, and keep walking.

Or these? Didn't you mention you wanted ones just like these the other day?
Well, they're very similar, but these have/don't have x.
But you can barely tell them apart.
I know. But still.

I smile apologetically, hug him, and keep walking. It'll probably take me three trips to the mall or its similar to find shoes I'd actually pay for. For example, when I bought my boots I had to drag my amado around shops for a whole weekend and I finally found them at this mall that's for shoes only and shaped like a square. Wanna try and guess in which store I finally found them? In the last freakin'one. If I'd gone right instead of left we would've gone home much, much sooner. And even then they weren't the boots, only we'd been in countless amount of stores and I was worried about exasperating my husband beyond buying me the darned things.



Did I mention I have to love them on sight? I can step into a store, take a quick look around, and if nothing perks my attention at once it won't at all so I'm outta there in three minutes flat most of the time. Tops. I cover a lot of ground that way.

Also, while I might be incredibly picky, I love to look at the shoes other women wear. I can't help it. My eyes are inevitably drawn to the floor to check them out. Mostly I wouldn't buy them either, but now and then I find a real looker and I secretly swoon to my husband who briefly looks the way I indicated, but now it's he is turn to keep walking.

And I'd like to finish this most with a personal issue. See, I couldn't of cared less about shoes, high heels in particular. That is, before I got pregnant. It was when I became an urban penguin and high heels were out of the question that I finally started to notice how pretty these kind of shoes were. But I couldn't wear them! It would frustrate me so much, that I vowed to myself that as soon as Belle Fille had been born and my shoe size became stable once again I would start to wear those funky things.

Except at school. High heels and public transportation do. not. mix.

A typical class

Yipee! After a few not exactly satisfactory quizes at school, I've gotten a bit better, and so, I'll use this as an excuse to describe the different fases I've observed characterize some of my classes.

Stage 1: Off to a Good Start

Freshly showered, so pretty much wide awake. Optimistic but sober. Enter campus strutting ever so slightly because I've got this funky song in my head and am mentally singing it, until I glance at my watch.Drat. I thought I had more time! Pace quickens significantly until correct classroom is reached. Quick glance tells me which chairs are available, but I'll probably choose the nearest one. However, due to short sightedness I developed this dorky habit of sitting front and center during high school. Why I continue this habit is beyond me.

Stage 2: Social Protocol

Slyly check surrondings. Are there friends? Fiends? Strangers? If friends, casual or cheerful conversation will arise. If fiends (I apply the term loosely) I'll pretend to study or doodle in my notebook wondering what the heck I was thinking when I chose that seat. If strangers mood testing evaluation is next. However, before this, have in mind the following variables: Has the teacher arrived? If so, how much time till class actually starts? And especially, do I really feel like talking?

Stage 3: Class

Teacher begins lecture. Consciously focus on paying atention. This feat is easier or harder depending on the subject and the teachers style. For example, a teacher is keen on stamping or hitting the desk to emphasize the main points, which is actually very usefull to drowsy students, whereas I've also been subject to monotonous and unevenful droning that does not help keep you awake at all.

For our purpose, let's say that this particular class isn't very stimulating. And so, the battle begins.

Stage 4: Denial

I begin to feel sleepy. Eyes start to flutter and I have to concentrate on keeping them open. Mind over matter triumphs. That is, until my mind starts to play tricks on me.

Teacher has a twin? And what's up with their dressing up in exactly the same clothes? That's creepy. Hmmm... why is this room so warm? And quiet. Mmm...

I start to nod off. I start a mantra. Don't fall asleep. Do not fall asleep. Don't... fall asleep. Don't... sleep. Don'... sleep. Sleep. Sleep? Sleeeeeeep...




Stage 5: The Comeback

OK I'm falling asleep, gotta do something about it before the teacher looks my way, I aint 'xactley sutil here

Pinch. Ow! It sort of worked but is totally temporary. Also, since my tolerance for pain is pretty high, I've got to pinch really hard for it to actually hurt and I don't want to explain the marks on my arm at home. So what doesn't leave evidence? Hmmm...

I start to pull my hair. First lightly, and end up yanking. That did the trick! Unfortunetely, it also drew attention, and a friend is currently laughing at me.Oh well.

Wait a minute. Didn't I buy coffee candy the other day in preparation for today? Where the heck is it!?

Stage 6: The End

Now that I am succesfully awake, class is actually very interesting. Geopolitics. And suddenly, class is over. Dang! What I miss? I write down the homework, pack my stuff up and walk out the door.

If I'm lucky I bump into a friend or two emerging from their respective classes and savor a few minutes of refreshing comradeship. If I need to, I go to the library.

If not, I go straight to where Belle Fille is, thinking of her and of food. And probably about how freakin' hot it is.


How was school today? Great. Really great.

Anger Management 101

After a brief but explosive anger episode myself, I started thinking about how different people express their anger. And how that, in turn, affects the way others see you. Some instantly react in humiliating, frustrating you name it situations, and vent on the nearest unfortunate bystander if the real cause isn’t in the perimeter. These are considered hotheads and vary from mild indignation best case scenario, to very violent.

Hotheads aren’t usually bothered very much because everyone knows that the smallest thing can and will set them off, so people will mostly go out of their way to avoid their rage. However, the amount successful in this attempt is minimum and a hothead will continue to live up to its reputation until it consciously decides to change (unlikely) and woe is you if you catch them on a bad day or are the cause, or even messenger, of bad news.

Then there are the martyrs. They will swallow pill after pill of pain, frustration and anger as much as humanly possible. They believe that the world hates and/or completely misunderstands them, and either think themselves too insignificant to retaliate or even speak their minds, or think themselves too good for that. Also, sometimes they adopt these behavior lines to attract attention, compassion, to manipulate, to justify, and to be plain lazy and let others work because oh can’t you see what I’m going through? Beware these docile creatures, they are more than capable of defending themselves and can be driven completely over the edge when they explode, forgetting caution or measure or common sense. Long oppressed feelings can easily envelop these soft smiled individuals once past their breaking point, blind them, and that, my friend, is how some of the worst murders and evils happen.

By the way, did I mention that some people are very resentful and hotheads? Isn’t human nature beautiful?

Thankfully, things don’t have to be this way. There are also gents that are able to see more than the maddening situation in front of them, and see the devastating effect their giving loose rein on their anger can have on innocent and even non innocent people. See the cause of all the mischief and how little exploding will help them solve the problem. How much it can and will backfire. Don’t get me wrong, they won’t just stop abruptly and smile, that would be so not healthy. They’ll get steamed up alright, but they’ll also try to gain control of themselves before much damage is done. Sometimes lots of damage will be done, but the point I’m trying to get at is that they’re aware of the danger and working on it. These people are considered mature (at least in that aspect) or are getting there.

Moi? I’ve been the first two on and off, but I flatter myself established in the third kinds o’ people, though I still admit I exploded. (I was alone ok? And my faithful sidekick Belle Fille was asleep so there was cero audience and no one was hurt in any way) I’ll usually try and hold my tongue, but there are also times I am set off. I tend to rationalize unconsciously most of what I do, and that in itself has saved me a world of problems. But tread carefully if I can’t or don’t want to. I am scary people. A glimpse of an irrationalized me would instantly trash my organic and natural, not forced(roll your eyes if you must, I won't blame you) sweet tempered rep. and most of everything I’ve worked for.

And so, I will continue to cry myself through my anger episodes until I am rational enough to solve the freakin’ problem I probably caused (which sadly enough is 50 50 of its only existing in my head) , or rational/too darn tired enough to accept I can’t. Or stomach it and get a hernia or something, which I’ve also been known to do. And write about it when I’m done. Like now.

Except that my stomach still hurts.