Tag Archives: Thoughts

Journal – the best compliments

I realized I’ve been hiding my real writings recently.  Oops, bad Sarah. No secrets. Be open.

It sure was comfortable while it lasted, haha.

 

Something nice to muse upon… what is the best compliment you ever received?

 


I was watching old home movies
I saw mom laughing again
The elegance in her hands
Her purity

Kid me came up to her with the camera
I said, “What are your thoughts on life?”
“I’m for it,” she quipped.
“What are your thoughts on death?”
“Also for it.”
Her philosophy would be tested and proved
later in life,
later in death.
She may not have known this word for it,
But she was very Tao.

I always saw mom in me
Her philosophical side,
Her creativity
Her crazies
Her acceptance.

The best compliment I ever received
Was from friends who never really knew mom
They told me I was just like Dad.
Something I had never considered before.
But once I did I knew it was true.

I got his outrageous side,
His caring
His extroversion
His stoicism
His sense of humor.

Both were nonconformist
Both were strong
Both were smart
Both were brave
Both were loving.

I am lucky, so lucky
To have had such parents
I am lucky to have a family
Bound tightly together in common tragedy
I know true tribalism
It’s wonderful
To know who you are
To have a place
To have a role.

Everyone has ever been so good to me
As good as they knew how
They have taught me how to be good to others
Some lessons better than others
I am grateful for everyone
I try to deserve what I have
But not too hard.
Trying too hard to deserve something
Makes you deserve it less,
grow unbalanced.
I must love me
If I am to love others.
Odd that being in the presence of my heroes
Should make me feel so small
We spend our time
Building each other up
And I always leave
Feeling smaller
Undeserving
These people are my people
My family
I love them unconditionally
And they me
I just have to love myself
Unconditionally.

The cat gave me a compliment today.
She waited outside the shower for half an hour
I take long showers
And when I came out
She purred, happy to see me
Rubbed against my wet leg
Knowing she would get wet
Deciding it was worth it.

My sister tells me to come visit.
I say, I have a nasty cold.
She says, then I’ll make you soup.
The joy of my visit outweighs
The physical discomfort I bring.

Love should not be measured in sacrifice.
The pleasure should outweigh the pain
By a grand margin.
However, it can be a small proof
Here and there
Little heartwarming gestures.
Someone gives you roses
You know they gave up some time and money for them.
Someone gives you food
They made just for you.
Someone reads your blog
Every day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Journal – The Girl with no Fear

 

Here’s a funny thing about myself. I always have majorly overblown confidence about a thing until I’m halfway into it.

“I’m not afraid of people. I love talking to people! I can face down a crowd.” Then I blithely stand up to tell a story about a coworker at a small friendly retirement party. I am shocked when, halfway through, my hands are shaking hard. I have to breathe and calm down but my punchline falters a bit. Am I afraid of public speaking? Looking back to when I did theatre in college, it was the same: one hundred percent confidence followed by shakes on stage.

“I like rock climbing! I like nature! I’m gonna sign up for this little class and learn the knots and then I can hang (get it?) with my rock-climbing big brother and sister.” I take the class, start climbing the first little practice tower, and hit critical mass. I am shaking so hard I don’t trust myself to climb any higher. My hands have locked down on the rock climbing nubbins. “I forgot I’m afraid of heights!” I call back to my bemused classmates from a whopping ten feet high.

I got to meet a new friend on videochat recently. No fear there. Slept like a baby. Excited, happy puppy enthusiasm. “Yay, a new person to love!!” We talked, and she was awesome, and the conversation was easy, and everything was fine as long as I didn’t get distracted by my own reflected strangerface and lose track of the conversation.

After I hung up, I started making some oatmeal. As I stirred the pot I thought, “Where is that quiet screaming coming from? It’s getting louder. Oh, right! My own head.” After some puzzling I figured out that it was latent anxious adrenaline rush from meeting her. DID SHE LIKE ME WAS I STUPID DID I HURT HER FEELINGS???

 

Anyway, I thought it was just a funny character trait, but now that I’ve written it down, I see it’s my old friend Emotional Repression popping up. Hello again. Let’s never talk.

I have definitely gotten better, but digging my emotional core free is a slow, slow process. Sometimes Repression pops up and bites me in the ass, just like old times. It bites less than before, but it still bites.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Journal – Brain overdose

 

An average day PMSing:

I have doubted my bread consumption, worried about getting bunion surgery, worried about my vaccines, doubted the entire medical field, worried about calories, tried to figure what the hell it is about butyrate, worried about Huntington’s, worried about my sister quitting sugar, grown frustrated at the lack of substance to online research, researched online how people research online, hated on the fallibility of the media, hated on food trends, hated on trend haters, considered joining a gym, considered buying a weight set, considered cycling to work and abandoned the concept for the millionth time, bashed myself for abandoning the concept of cycling to work, worried about the poorly maintained areas in my house, worried about the quality of my writing, worried about whether I’ll finish my comic… of course this is the hyper-condensed version, and all within the space of a few hours.

Do you see why I love meditation? I can’t believe lots of normal people go through life thinking like this every day. I can see it in their eyes. They’re always on high alert, waiting for reality to pounce.

I’d like to trade in my higher brain for nothing. Just leave it hollow. We only need a primitive brainstem to function anyway. Lizard smiles from me to you!

 

smile

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

On perception and belief

 

In the middle ages, everyone saw angels, demons, pixies, leprechauns, and other such folk.

Today, we get abducted by aliens.

People in Malaysia see a creature which is just a floating woman’s head and her attached entrails.

Our perceptions are influenced by our beliefs.

While reading a scary story

You get scared

And hear something unnatural in the walls.

Was it the house settling,

Or a ghost?

If you pursue an interest in the occult

You will see more.

Those who fear they’ll be possessed

Are most at risk.

We see

What we expect

To see.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Journal -minimalism vs hoarders

I’ve been taking time off work and clearing out my back room, previously the place for crap, soon to be reborn as a cute office. Looks like I’m not so good at the updating when my schedule breaks down. But I’ll learn how to keep up… eventually…

 


 

Cleaning up my room

Eliminating excess

Why does it feel so good

To get rid of stuff

And why do so many people not feel the same way?

Here is an item

Every time I saw it

I thought how ugly it was

A relief to not have it polluting my sight.

This thing

Itchy, uncomfortable

Thank God it’s being given away.

And here

A depressing reminder of abandoned ambitions

There

Grief-inducing mementos of lost loved ones

Old magazines? Guess what? I’m off the hook

I don’t have to read them.

They’re full of garbage and I can live without that data in my head.

I’m never using this warranty

I don’t like that photo

This drawing always bothered me

Who am I keeping it for? Posterity?

Nobody gives a shit about this shit painting.

I shouldn’t curse the future with such light-lacking things.

Nobody wants my garbage

Even I don’t want it.

 

How can anyone delight in having so much stuff?

They fill their houses with it

They get bigger houses so they can make room for more stuff

They are afraid to part with a single item

And if they do

They don’t forget about it

They really regret it forever.

Perhaps they are so beholden to their own identities

So shackled by the past

They cannot release a single newspaper.

The thing that makes me feel so free

Makes them feel unstable, lost

Freedom is instability

I suppose they can’t handle freedom

Because they have no faith in their own ability to handle it.

I don’t know much about hoarding

I’m a reverse hoarder

I’m a minimalist.

But I have a strong support network

And I have confidence

And I am lucky to not have

Such consuming fears.