Yesterday was an interesting day. It started with me "breaking up" with and unintentionally hurting the feelings of someone I really hadn't thought cared at all, and ended with me walking away from someone else I'm fairly certain won't even know I'm gone. It was all a surprisingly timely commentary on my post on Closure - if the one person hadn't pushed the issue we would have just faded apart, and maybe faded back in at some point (and who knows, maybe we still will - but at least her feelings wouldn't have been so hurt); and with the other I get to really exercise my theory on the possibility of being OK without real "closure".
It was intriguing to see, too, how both these people operated under my new idea of happiness. In the conversation I was having with my boss we were talking about how people will go to strange lengths and do very odd things under the guise of "finding happiness"; and then when "it" fades or they don't find what they're looking for, they'll keep going in even further and more disturbing directions. My comment to my boss was "Happiness is not where you find it - happiness is where you left it." That's not necessarily always the case, of course, but the idea is worth thinking about. We usually learn fairly early in life how to be happy - what to do, how to behave, the kinds of things that bring us joy. Then we grow up, and get confused, and try new things... and start branching away from those early lessons, rather than sticking to them. Both of the people I interacted with yesterday (and the one my boss and I were talking about) knew how to be happy - and they both made choices that perhaps felt good and looked exciting, but led them to the opposite of happiness.
I guess we need to do that every so often, so that we know what the opposite of happiness feels like - still, it was a powerful insight to me that, instead of trying to go somewhere else to find happiness, I need to remember how to be happy and then take it along with me. I think "finding happiness" is really just about remembering who we really are and how it really works.
All in all, it was a very interesting day.
July 07, 2009
July 06, 2009
"Got" List
Today I got:
- up late
- an email from one of my grad school programs requesting I set up a phone interview (WOOO!!!)
- blackberry pomegranate yogurt for breakfast
- called out for being a little too passive-aggressive (which is occasionally true)
- to "decorate" the "hideout" for "Scarlet Pimpernel" (talk about your shabby chic)
- a place in my boss's "Circle of Trust"
- some interesting insights into the nature of happiness
- a couple of doses of gossip
- into a phone tag marathon with a friend
- a paycheck
- some very important details re: a couple of different friendships
- an easy drive home, as I apparently stayed at work just long enough to miss the rush hour traffic
- chocolate. (This one hasn't happened yet, but I'm very optimistic, and inclined to be pro-active.)
P.S. Right at the end of the work day I drew a Super-Sekrit Scarlet Pimpernel Escape Plan to put up in the hideout, and my boss thinks it's awesome. He hasn't even seen it yet. I have a great job.
- up late
- an email from one of my grad school programs requesting I set up a phone interview (WOOO!!!)
- blackberry pomegranate yogurt for breakfast
- called out for being a little too passive-aggressive (which is occasionally true)
- to "decorate" the "hideout" for "Scarlet Pimpernel" (talk about your shabby chic)
- a place in my boss's "Circle of Trust"
- some interesting insights into the nature of happiness
- a couple of doses of gossip
- into a phone tag marathon with a friend
- a paycheck
- some very important details re: a couple of different friendships
- an easy drive home, as I apparently stayed at work just long enough to miss the rush hour traffic
- chocolate. (This one hasn't happened yet, but I'm very optimistic, and inclined to be pro-active.)
P.S. Right at the end of the work day I drew a Super-Sekrit Scarlet Pimpernel Escape Plan to put up in the hideout, and my boss thinks it's awesome. He hasn't even seen it yet. I have a great job.
July 05, 2009
Sunday Snippet
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword;
His truth is marching on.
I have seen Him in the watch fires of a hundred circling camps
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps;
His day is marching on.
I have read a fiery Gospel writ in burnished rows of steel;
“As ye deal with My contemners, so with you My grace shall deal”;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with His heel,
Since God is marching on.
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat;
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet;
Our God is marching on.
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us live to make men free;
While God is marching on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! While God is marching on.
Words: Julia W. Howe, 1861, alt. This hymn was born during the American civil war, when Howe visited a Union Army camp on the Potomac River near Washington, D. C. She heard the soldiers singing the song “John Brown’s Body,” and was taken with the strong marching beat. She wrote the words the next day:
I awoke in the grey of the morning, and as I lay waiting for dawn, the long lines of the desired poem began to entwine themselves in my mind, and I said to myself, “I must get up and write these verses, lest I fall asleep and forget them!” So I sprang out of bed and in the dimness found an old stump of a pen, which I remembered using the day before. I scrawled the verses almost without looking at the paper.
The hymn appeared in the Atlantic Monthly in 1862. It was sung at the funerals of British statesman Winston Churchill, American senator Robert Kennedy, and American presidents Ronald Reagan and Richard Nixon.
Music: John Brown’s Body, possibly by John William Steffe. John Brown was an American abolitionist who led a short lived insurrection to free the slaves.
* * * * *
To see and hear MoTab's version of this song, go here. (It's a little better performance than my ward managed.)
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword;
His truth is marching on.
I have seen Him in the watch fires of a hundred circling camps
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps;
His day is marching on.
I have read a fiery Gospel writ in burnished rows of steel;
“As ye deal with My contemners, so with you My grace shall deal”;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with His heel,
Since God is marching on.
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat;
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet;
Our God is marching on.
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us live to make men free;
While God is marching on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! While God is marching on.
Words: Julia W. Howe, 1861, alt. This hymn was born during the American civil war, when Howe visited a Union Army camp on the Potomac River near Washington, D. C. She heard the soldiers singing the song “John Brown’s Body,” and was taken with the strong marching beat. She wrote the words the next day:
I awoke in the grey of the morning, and as I lay waiting for dawn, the long lines of the desired poem began to entwine themselves in my mind, and I said to myself, “I must get up and write these verses, lest I fall asleep and forget them!” So I sprang out of bed and in the dimness found an old stump of a pen, which I remembered using the day before. I scrawled the verses almost without looking at the paper.
The hymn appeared in the Atlantic Monthly in 1862. It was sung at the funerals of British statesman Winston Churchill, American senator Robert Kennedy, and American presidents Ronald Reagan and Richard Nixon.
Music: John Brown’s Body, possibly by John William Steffe. John Brown was an American abolitionist who led a short lived insurrection to free the slaves.
* * * * *
To see and hear MoTab's version of this song, go here. (It's a little better performance than my ward managed.)
July 04, 2009
Birthday Message
"Those who won our independence believed that the final end of the state was to make men free to develop their faculties, and that in its government the deliberative forces should prevail over the arbitrary. They valued liberty both as an end and as a means. They believed liberty to be the secret of happiness and courage to be the secret of liberty. They believed that freedom to think as you will and to speak as you think are means indispensable to the discovery and spread of political truth; that without free 
speech and assembly discussion would be futile; that with them, discussion affords ordinarily adequate protection against the dissemination of noxious doctrine; that the greatest menace to freedom is an inert people; that public discussion is a political duty; and that this should be a fundamental principle of the American government."
speech and assembly discussion would be futile; that with them, discussion affords ordinarily adequate protection against the dissemination of noxious doctrine; that the greatest menace to freedom is an inert people; that public discussion is a political duty; and that this should be a fundamental principle of the American government."- Louis D. Brandeis
Supreme Court Justice
Bonus quote: "Most of the things worth doing in the world had been declared impossible before they were done."
- Louis Brandeis
July 03, 2009
Said It Once, Said It 100 Times...
In which we shall see: a TMI non sequitur, a couple of dating theories, imaginary dialogue, and a wiggins. Oh, and Happy Fourth-of-July Eve! (Otherwise known as July 3rd.)
* * *
Have you ever had a patch of skin that you could actually FEEL drying up and peeling off? Mine's on the back of my neck from a pretty intense sunburn I got a week ago (damn that new haircut, anyway) and it is making me CRAZY. I will probably have to stop typing every few minutes to see, once again, if I can possibly contort myself in some different way to be able to get at the scaly lizard hide just below my hairline. Did you know you can't see the back of your neck, and that even with three-way mirrors it is BEYOND frustrating to try to get to it? It's a lot like trying to lick your elbow. Go ahead, try it.
This has absolutely nothing to to with today's post. I just wondered.
* * * * *
A few years ago (and when I was 17, and last week) my mother gave me this advice: "You know, you really should play hard to get." My stock response: "Phbbblgttt." I've been hearing this for years, and it just doesn't sink in - I don't play. I'm not hard to get. If I like a guy and he likes me, I'm all for going out and doing something about it, not lurking coyly and pretending to be all mysterious and lofty and otherwise occupied.
However - if my mother, who has a degree in Childhood Development, had ever bothered to tell me HOW and WHY to "play hard to get", I might have listened and done something about it. Here's the thing: I cannot seem to get away from guys who will say one thing, and then immediately forget those words ever left their mouths, like, "We really should go play raquetball sometime!" or "When can I take you out to dinner?" I've learned, for the most part, to let those kinds of remarks slide and fade away as though they really do have no more substance than the air that carries them, because no matter how positively I respond (although not over-enthusiastically, since that evidently reads as "desperate") the invitation just never morphs into an actual event. I don't know why this is, but I finally have a theory.
I blame my mother.
If she had told me years ago that I had to apply Childhood Development principles as well as "playing hard to get" to my dealings with males, my entire dating "history" (hah) could have been radically different. You know how when talking to small children, in general you will be required to repeat yourself at least three times? I figure that this has to do with the short attention span, and with the lack of impulse control - if something is confirmed to a child often enough it becomes an actuality, not just a passing whim or unconnected thought. Go with me on this: "Playing Hard to Get" + Child's Rule of 3 might look something like...
Him: "When can I take you out to dinner?"
Me: "Well, let me see... I don't know... You want to..."
Him: "Take you out, yes. If you want to go, I mean."
Me: "Oh, well, sure, I'd like to, but I'm really busy... Dinner, huh?"
Him: "Yeah. Dinner. Or a movie. Or something."
Me: "Did you have a particular day in mind? For this dinner?"
Him: "How about next Friday?"
(*cue Me hemming and hawing and mentally double-checking the date, and getting him to set up not only a day, but also the time*)
So, theoretically, if I make a guy confirm an invitation at least three times, then he might get around to setting a date. And if he sets a date (not me) then he feels like he's in charge and will actually follow through. If I just say "Sure. Next week? Call me" then I am too easily pleased and not worth the effort it will take him to follow up. If I make him pull an acceptance out of me, however, I become worth his time AND he will remember he issued the invitation because he repeated it several times. I wonder if schools could start offering combined Childhood Development/Dating classes: "Get your man and practice your parenting skills at the same time!" Seems like a solid idea.
Honestly, though, this whole theory gives me the creeps. I was hoping I could talk myself into trying it out the next time a guy makes a suggestion, but... no. I'd still rather devote my energy to the conversation or the activity or a good book - it just seems like such a waste of time. I apparently still have a little spark of cock-eyed optimism down deep inside that there are men (a man?) out there who do not need me to treat them like five-year-olds, guys who say things because they mean them and will do something about them. There's got to be a different/better way out there - I think I'll just keep looking for that, instead. (Sorry, Mom.)
In the meantime, I've got to go peel my neck.
Watch out for falling turtles (and amateur psychology),
Cyd
* * *
Have you ever had a patch of skin that you could actually FEEL drying up and peeling off? Mine's on the back of my neck from a pretty intense sunburn I got a week ago (damn that new haircut, anyway) and it is making me CRAZY. I will probably have to stop typing every few minutes to see, once again, if I can possibly contort myself in some different way to be able to get at the scaly lizard hide just below my hairline. Did you know you can't see the back of your neck, and that even with three-way mirrors it is BEYOND frustrating to try to get to it? It's a lot like trying to lick your elbow. Go ahead, try it.
This has absolutely nothing to to with today's post. I just wondered.
* * * * *
A few years ago (and when I was 17, and last week) my mother gave me this advice: "You know, you really should play hard to get." My stock response: "Phbbblgttt." I've been hearing this for years, and it just doesn't sink in - I don't play. I'm not hard to get. If I like a guy and he likes me, I'm all for going out and doing something about it, not lurking coyly and pretending to be all mysterious and lofty and otherwise occupied.
However - if my mother, who has a degree in Childhood Development, had ever bothered to tell me HOW and WHY to "play hard to get", I might have listened and done something about it. Here's the thing: I cannot seem to get away from guys who will say one thing, and then immediately forget those words ever left their mouths, like, "We really should go play raquetball sometime!" or "When can I take you out to dinner?" I've learned, for the most part, to let those kinds of remarks slide and fade away as though they really do have no more substance than the air that carries them, because no matter how positively I respond (although not over-enthusiastically, since that evidently reads as "desperate") the invitation just never morphs into an actual event. I don't know why this is, but I finally have a theory.
I blame my mother.
If she had told me years ago that I had to apply Childhood Development principles as well as "playing hard to get" to my dealings with males, my entire dating "history" (hah) could have been radically different. You know how when talking to small children, in general you will be required to repeat yourself at least three times? I figure that this has to do with the short attention span, and with the lack of impulse control - if something is confirmed to a child often enough it becomes an actuality, not just a passing whim or unconnected thought. Go with me on this: "Playing Hard to Get" + Child's Rule of 3 might look something like...
Him: "When can I take you out to dinner?"
Me: "Well, let me see... I don't know... You want to..."
Him: "Take you out, yes. If you want to go, I mean."
Me: "Oh, well, sure, I'd like to, but I'm really busy... Dinner, huh?"
Him: "Yeah. Dinner. Or a movie. Or something."
Me: "Did you have a particular day in mind? For this dinner?"
Him: "How about next Friday?"
(*cue Me hemming and hawing and mentally double-checking the date, and getting him to set up not only a day, but also the time*)
So, theoretically, if I make a guy confirm an invitation at least three times, then he might get around to setting a date. And if he sets a date (not me) then he feels like he's in charge and will actually follow through. If I just say "Sure. Next week? Call me" then I am too easily pleased and not worth the effort it will take him to follow up. If I make him pull an acceptance out of me, however, I become worth his time AND he will remember he issued the invitation because he repeated it several times. I wonder if schools could start offering combined Childhood Development/Dating classes: "Get your man and practice your parenting skills at the same time!" Seems like a solid idea.
Honestly, though, this whole theory gives me the creeps. I was hoping I could talk myself into trying it out the next time a guy makes a suggestion, but... no. I'd still rather devote my energy to the conversation or the activity or a good book - it just seems like such a waste of time. I apparently still have a little spark of cock-eyed optimism down deep inside that there are men (a man?) out there who do not need me to treat them like five-year-olds, guys who say things because they mean them and will do something about them. There's got to be a different/better way out there - I think I'll just keep looking for that, instead. (Sorry, Mom.)
In the meantime, I've got to go peel my neck.
Watch out for falling turtles (and amateur psychology),
Cyd
July 02, 2009
Fake Upholstery is SO Five Minutes Ago (Literally)
I finished up today with the fanciest set piece for a two-minute scene EVER. (It's a carriage interior.) The tech guys agree that it looks much better than it did the last time they did the show, and the designer is all giddy because techs will be standing behind the piece shaking it while it's on stage, and the curtains and the fringe and the tassels will be bouncing which will make the whole thing look like it's REALLY MOVING. It's the theater equivalent of playing a moving video behind a stationary object - only, you know, the opposite.
Behold:
The staple gun and I: re-covered the cushions and bench, "wallpapered" with fabric, attached the corner trim, and hung all the curtains after sewing a couple of layers of fringe. The designer says that he likes having me work on things like this, because I really "get" fringe. (Apparently, some people don't. Can I list an understanding of fringe as a marketable job skill?)
Behold:
The staple gun and I: re-covered the cushions and bench, "wallpapered" with fabric, attached the corner trim, and hung all the curtains after sewing a couple of layers of fringe. The designer says that he likes having me work on things like this, because I really "get" fringe. (Apparently, some people don't. Can I list an understanding of fringe as a marketable job skill?)Nice, huh? The whole thing is kind of like a portable bordello. If, you know, I were to ever imagine what that sort of thing might look like, which I wouldn't. At all.
Ahem.
* * * * *
My sister has started her own "30 Days of Posts" - go follow along! So far it's fun, patriotic, and has a picture of a skinny-dipping-slip-'n-slider! (And that's just the first day!)
* * * * *
Stay tuned - tomorrow I take exception to my mother's advice. There will probably be ranting involved.
July 01, 2009
It's Not the End, Again
In which we shall see: Some ramblings and mental perambulations which, ironically, come to no real conclusion.
*
Hey! It's July! When did that happen? June was here, then gone, and it didn't even say goodbye! I'm not really ready for last month to be over - couldn't we discuss this? I'll probably be fine, once I get my head around it... Honestly, though, a little finality would be nice!
*Leaves for a moment to go change the calendar*
OK, I'm ready now. Just had to square that away.
People are funny, it seems to me, about this idea of "closure". I've used it as an excuse for years: "Well of COURSE we should have desert, the meal needs closure!" - but what is it really all about? It's odd, sometimes, how we have difficulty moving forward if we don't have a "The End" sign first. I've been thinking about this lately, and wondering how much difference it makes. For example, by all reasonable accounts or expectations, a relationship is over (we've all been there). The spark is gone, you've grown apart, you haven't talked since his birthday... a month ago... and yet the relationship isn't completely finished until there is an actual, verbal, face-to-face break-up. Does the break-up introduce new information, or somehow give you permission to move on? (For me, in one memorable instance the break-up did in fact introduce some new and painful information that I would have been much happier without. Closure was ABSOLUTELY overrated.)
We seem to have a deep-seated need for a "button", a "tagline", some indication that things really are finished. I HATE books that leave me turning the last page back and forth (as if additional print will magically appear) muttering, "Wait - that's IT?!?" An excess of closure can have a similarly exasperating effect - "Honestly, get it over with... um, Shakespeare, old buddy, I'm pretty sure we already saw this scene twice, we don't need to hear about it again! Done, already!" It's kind of like presents under a Christmas tree - everything should be wrapped just so, each gift should be inclusive unto itself for maximum satisfaction, and eventually the packages should all be distributed so we can move on to the homemade cinnamon rolls. We don't seem to like dangling possibilities of any kind, and have difficulty tying them up without help.
I am an action-girl (by which I mean, "not patient") and I like answers and conclusions to present themselves neatly, ASAP. This may be a by-product of my reading habit - I read exhaustively and continually, and pretty quickly. I really don't have to sit in suspense for long, because I know I can keep reading until I get to the ending. (Don't ask about my track record with the Twilight books.) Recently, however, I have found myself in a situation where I haven't been able to get any clear answers, though not for lack of attempted manipulation (er, "trying"). Slowly, I've been seeing that it might be all right if I never get the answer, that my future happiness is not going to be determined by the acquisition of this one piece of knowledge, and that I am allowed to make the decision to let things go without help or permission from anyone else. It's a weird feeling. Kind of loose, and nebulous... and fluffy... Like I said, weird. And a little liberating, too - I don't have to wait for someone else to make up their mind and take action before I decide what to do next. I don't have to be dependent on outside forces to finish or wrap up my own thought processes, pack them away, and move on to something new. I don't have to have closure. It's OK not to cut people out of my life (impose "closure" on them) - I can let them fade out, or just wait and see what they do next week, and then make a new decision based on what I have decided to do in the meantime. If I'm done watching the movie, it's OK to walk out. If I didn't like the way the book ended, I can spend a few minutes coming up with a more satisfactory conclusion - OR I can mentally shrug, put the author on my "maybe not, next time" list, and pick up the next volume in my stack (ideally, after having gone out for a run, met up with some friends, and put in a load of laundry. Balance, or something).
I guess this means I really don't need dessert after all. Wow. Now THERE'S a concept.
Watch out for falling turtles,
Cyd
*
Hey! It's July! When did that happen? June was here, then gone, and it didn't even say goodbye! I'm not really ready for last month to be over - couldn't we discuss this? I'll probably be fine, once I get my head around it... Honestly, though, a little finality would be nice!
*Leaves for a moment to go change the calendar*
OK, I'm ready now. Just had to square that away.
People are funny, it seems to me, about this idea of "closure". I've used it as an excuse for years: "Well of COURSE we should have desert, the meal needs closure!" - but what is it really all about? It's odd, sometimes, how we have difficulty moving forward if we don't have a "The End" sign first. I've been thinking about this lately, and wondering how much difference it makes. For example, by all reasonable accounts or expectations, a relationship is over (we've all been there). The spark is gone, you've grown apart, you haven't talked since his birthday... a month ago... and yet the relationship isn't completely finished until there is an actual, verbal, face-to-face break-up. Does the break-up introduce new information, or somehow give you permission to move on? (For me, in one memorable instance the break-up did in fact introduce some new and painful information that I would have been much happier without. Closure was ABSOLUTELY overrated.)
We seem to have a deep-seated need for a "button", a "tagline", some indication that things really are finished. I HATE books that leave me turning the last page back and forth (as if additional print will magically appear) muttering, "Wait - that's IT?!?" An excess of closure can have a similarly exasperating effect - "Honestly, get it over with... um, Shakespeare, old buddy, I'm pretty sure we already saw this scene twice, we don't need to hear about it again! Done, already!" It's kind of like presents under a Christmas tree - everything should be wrapped just so, each gift should be inclusive unto itself for maximum satisfaction, and eventually the packages should all be distributed so we can move on to the homemade cinnamon rolls. We don't seem to like dangling possibilities of any kind, and have difficulty tying them up without help.
I am an action-girl (by which I mean, "not patient") and I like answers and conclusions to present themselves neatly, ASAP. This may be a by-product of my reading habit - I read exhaustively and continually, and pretty quickly. I really don't have to sit in suspense for long, because I know I can keep reading until I get to the ending. (Don't ask about my track record with the Twilight books.) Recently, however, I have found myself in a situation where I haven't been able to get any clear answers, though not for lack of attempted manipulation (er, "trying"). Slowly, I've been seeing that it might be all right if I never get the answer, that my future happiness is not going to be determined by the acquisition of this one piece of knowledge, and that I am allowed to make the decision to let things go without help or permission from anyone else. It's a weird feeling. Kind of loose, and nebulous... and fluffy... Like I said, weird. And a little liberating, too - I don't have to wait for someone else to make up their mind and take action before I decide what to do next. I don't have to be dependent on outside forces to finish or wrap up my own thought processes, pack them away, and move on to something new. I don't have to have closure. It's OK not to cut people out of my life (impose "closure" on them) - I can let them fade out, or just wait and see what they do next week, and then make a new decision based on what I have decided to do in the meantime. If I'm done watching the movie, it's OK to walk out. If I didn't like the way the book ended, I can spend a few minutes coming up with a more satisfactory conclusion - OR I can mentally shrug, put the author on my "maybe not, next time" list, and pick up the next volume in my stack (ideally, after having gone out for a run, met up with some friends, and put in a load of laundry. Balance, or something).
I guess this means I really don't need dessert after all. Wow. Now THERE'S a concept.
Watch out for falling turtles,
Cyd
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