08.30.09
Posted in It's All About Me(and Those Voices in My Head) at 5:23 am by Administrator
“Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not that is inconsolable”
–Sydney J Harris
Regrets. A familiar term to all of us. Everyone has them regardless of race, sex or religious affiliation. Regret covers the broadest range, from mere disappointment to a painful sense of dissatisfaction or self-reproach, over something lost or done. It is that unsilenceable voice whispering in your ear about the possibility you made the wrong decision.
I have an incisive understanding of the theory of this type of sorrow. Of how it furtively maneuvers itself into your mind and slowly settles in. It takes residence and awaits the highly anticipated juncture when you are just about to resolve a situation. And when that moment arrives, regret rears it’s intangible head and strikes. You are blindsided and lost. It has asked the unanswerable riddle that plagues us all, “What if?”.
What if I had gone back to see her in the hospital one last time and expressed how she moved me? How, at that young age, I idolized her every move and yearned for nothing more than one last Mid-Summer night thunderstorm with her where we would lounge on the front porch chaise experiencing Mother Nature’s brilliant light show. I could’ve conveyed my infallible love for her and everything she taught me. And described to her how people saw her: As the most kind, generous, good hearted person ever to have graced us with her presence. I could’ve done all this….and so much more.
But I didn’t. Instead, I embraced the arrival of regret and relinquished control of my life to it. It’s become that invisible entity that guides me back to those remorseful moments when I life as I knew it was altered forever. And yet, the wisdom I have acquired from my years with regret is invaluable. It has instructed me on the importance of always verbalizing how much the people I love mean to me. Regret’s lessons have molded me into who I am today. And though I may not have it all together, I am constantly evolving towards that instance when the past of regrets meets the future of happiness and unites.
For maybe regret is nothing more than a vessel to guide us through the tumultuous waters and navigate us to where we are really meant to be. Perhaps its purpose is simply to enable us to truly appreciate what we have and love it in a way that only we can. To grasp the notion that every day is our blank canvass. And with this we have a choice: we can sleepwalk through life adhering to a “paint by numbers” unconscious attitude or we can be inspired and give Picaso a run for his money.
Now, where are those paint brushes….
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08.29.09
Posted in The Slow People at 6:59 pm by Administrator
Fours hours of sleep, the line at Starbucks and The Slow People in front of me……you know this is going to end badly, right?
I don’t expect more than I am willing to give. I work hard, take care of the people I love and,on certain days, even slightly resemble a pleasant person. Though I may never admit this in person, I am the individual who gives money to the charity workers walking through traffic regularly. What I want is simple. I expect to get my morning cup of coffee and take myself, and my bad attitude, out into the world and begin my daily torture of my Fidget or whomever I feel has earned a well-deserved a** kicking that day.
Evidently, The Slow People need a reminder of what not to do(once more for the record!)to avoid my wrath. I go to the same Starbucks every morning. They know me. Even on the weekend, I drive farther to go to this particular one. They have my drink started before I walk in the door(they know the Urban Assault Vehicle as soon as it winds into the parking lot) and typically the total elapsed time I am there is roughly 1 minute. I walk in, they my swipe card, I grab my coffee and I bolt. Effortless, or at least, it should be. Today, however, was field trip day for the Slow People. The Asylum decided a nice cup of java was in order(brilliant idea–let’s give the inmates a jolt of caffeine). So they loaded up the short bus and brought them to…..you guessed it! My Starbucks!!!!!
It’s a Saturday. I was out a little later than usual(having a scandalously great time with an amazing man I can’t extract from my thoughts) and I am getting ready to embark on a three hour drive downstate for my regular dose of self-inflicted anguish. I am exhausted and have a temperment strongly resembling a cornered rattlesnake right now. I have but 1 absolute goal…..my coffee. So as I stumble into my home away from home for my daily fly-by to acquire the liquid gold that keeps my engines going, I notice my little Starbucks boy shoots me a glance(a not-so-subtle-warning of a possible change in the routine). He’s forcing a smile on his face while listening to a old, smaller framed ethnic woman(let’s just say her favorite food is rice) try to determine what to order. He is explaining every drink to her with an expression of pure torment. And yet, despite his tantalizing descriptions of the available beverages, this Slow Person just can’t seem to decide. So I attempt to wait patiently in line(and as I’m sure you’ve figured out–the key word here is attempt).
I am now five minutes in line. My mind is calculatedly plotting ways to end my turmoil and the life of the Slow Person in front of me. My Starbucks boy has the same expression most men have after enduring an hour long argument with a spouse(which they know they will not win). He is drained and I am done. It’s time for some much needed resolution. My drink has been on the counter awaiting it’s owner for at least 4 eternal minutes. I proceed to thrust my card past the Slow Person’s head like a Samurai wielding a sword and pay for my beverage. Starbucks boy coyly smiles, as he accepts my payment, acknowledging we are about to accomplish the impossible–we are about to be rid of the perpetrator inflicting pain on us all. The Slow Person turns to me with a look of utter disgust that I have just line-jumped her Slow a** and am moving on to bigger, better things. Unable to use her words(this a Slow Person, remember), she grunts out a slight noise and storms out of the store.
As I meander out the door brandishing a devilish grin, Starbucks boy yells out to me, “next ones on the house!”.
So I say to all……Ask not what Starbucks can do for you, but what you can do for Starbucks.
And life, as I know it, goes on….
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08.22.09
Posted in It's All About Me(and Those Voices in My Head) at 2:33 am by Administrator
I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.”
— Marilyn Monroe
Truer words have never been spoken. And for those of you who know me personally, she could have been decribing me.
I know that normally there is a sarcastic, facetious blog here typically venting over The Slow People and their relentless attempt to slowly, but calculatedly, drive me insane. But I need to mix it up a little today so please bear with me. I have had three constants in my life for the last 16 years.
1) My family and friends(they are one because I consider my friends part of my family)
2) My job
3) My inpenetrable wall I’ve built to keep those people not in #1 from getting too close
I would walk through fire for the people I love and work 80+ hours a week for a job I believe in that pays me 1/4 of what I’m worth. These elements will never change. It’s #3 that I find myself having doubts about. Do not misunderstand me. The wall has a purpose that it has consistently served for so long I don’t remember life before it. I appreciate the wall and everything it has kept me safe from for all of this time. But I’ve met someone that makes me question if it’s time to lower the wall, just a little, and really open myself up to give a man a chance to prove all my life lessons wrong.
I’m not going to build him up(well maybe a little). He’s not perfect. But who am I kidding, neither am I. He’s been a great friend to me for years. He’s the man you know will be there when the chips are down. Who won’t judge your mistakes. He’s made his own and therefore understands the process of life. His sarcastic humor is intoxicating. The kind of person I could have a battle of wits with and concede defeat without remorse. A very worthy adversary. Someone whose opinion I respect tremendously. But yet he’s so much more.
Charming, respectful, attractive, romantic, sexy, slightly dark, broken, extremely driven, ridiculously competitive….take out the attractive and sexy part and he is, for all intense purposes, the male version of me. He gets my scintillating humor. And the fact that I am tremendously guarded. He’s witnessed the viscious temper and appreciates it. He knows I may never may never let him in. But seems to think that if there is that slight chance he is wrong, it would be worth all of the effort to try.
In my secure corner of the world, he should be a threat to very existence of the fortress of solitude I’ve constructed to ensure the absence of any and all future pain. I should be able to look into to his eyes and realize he is a menace to my reality. But I wonder…..
What if I’ve done it all wrong? What if there are no coincidences? What if meeting him and becoming his friend first was simply the catalyst I needed to move forward. To accept with great happiness comes great uncertainty. And in order to really be satisfied, you must first find what you are open to desire and be vulnerable to it. What if it’s time to live in the moment and simply be?
I am not sure where this will go. Life has taught me that in a few weeks or months, I will disappoint him and be back here regretting my decision to give him an opening. But for some unexplainable reason, I think I can live with that. It’s a chance I’m willing to take. This one just might be worth it. I will leave you, after rotating 360 degrees, to the quote from a plaque I gave my sister the Christmas after her 40th birthday:
“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain”
Let the dance begin…..
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