Because I've been going through so many big changes in my life lately, I wasn't sure how to approach the loneliness and painful nostalgia I felt for lives left behind. I knew that I wanted to keep talking to all my old friends, the friends that already know me inside and out and could make me smile with a few words, but sometimes this connection did more harm than good. I found myself so lonely for those thousands of miles away that I would curl up into a ball and be unable to open my eyes to new possible friends and experiences out here in Boston.
So I staved off a lot of communication with these old friends, and put my full attention on making new ones. I was able to get past missing my old friends and open my eyes to all the experiences out here with my new friends. But it wasn't until people found out about the divorce that old friends (even older than I'd been talking to recently) started to write and call. Their support has meant the world to me, and I've been even more strengthened to go out here and make new friends and have new experiences.
Thus I have reached a balance. There's no reason I should shy away from those who know and love me already just to have a positive attitude in making friends here. If anything, I need all the support and love I can get - and that's what everyone is giving me. I am so grateful for it all. And if I've been a little distant with anyone lately...I'm sorry. I'm over it. Shall we chat?
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Thanks, Fitz
"Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter--to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther...And one fine morning--"
...one fine morning, we'll awaken to think, "Hey! In one month I'll be living in Harvard Square!"
...one fine morning, we'll awaken to think, "Hey! In one month I'll be living in Harvard Square!"
Friday, October 31, 2008
Too Late for Empathy?
We are all wrought with self-doubt at times in our lives, but I'd like to think that for the most part, the even-keeled that walk among us believe that they're usually doing all right. No matter what flaws others see in us, there's a part of us that wants to believe that the way we are is okay, and that there's no reason to change. But sometimes things happen that blow us over and cause us to take stock in a way that stays with us forever.
For me, it was something my dad said to me when I was in high school. He said that among my many talents, among the multitude of friends I had and brains I possessed, I faltered at one thing about all else: empathy. He said that if I were only more empathetic with people, I would have it made and could hand-pick my world to be any way I wanted. Now I know there were lots of speeches my parents made to me over the years, but none stuck with me the way this one did. I went upstairs and sat on my bed and thought very hard about empathy. Was I really so deficient in such a basic human quality?
This conversation has haunted me, but possibly kept me from making decisions or comments over the years that lacked empathy. I know that from it I have learned how to take the thoughts and feelings of others under consideration. But sometimes I hit a large snag and realize that my dad was right and still is in a lot of ways - sometimes I'm far too concerned about making myself feel better that I don't consider the feelings of others. I say things that make me feel better, or stronger, and they come out wrong because I didn't consider how the other person might take them. I hear my father's words and realize that the more I do this, the farther I stray from a happy and fulfilled life.
When we go through life feeling we're doing okay, feeling ourselves fall so far jolts our reality in a big way. Suddenly we do things that go against what we've always felt was right, and even though they seem right at the time, they are revealed as awful later on. It's a realization I must make to continue this process of self-growth, for sure.
I just hope it's not too late.
For me, it was something my dad said to me when I was in high school. He said that among my many talents, among the multitude of friends I had and brains I possessed, I faltered at one thing about all else: empathy. He said that if I were only more empathetic with people, I would have it made and could hand-pick my world to be any way I wanted. Now I know there were lots of speeches my parents made to me over the years, but none stuck with me the way this one did. I went upstairs and sat on my bed and thought very hard about empathy. Was I really so deficient in such a basic human quality?
This conversation has haunted me, but possibly kept me from making decisions or comments over the years that lacked empathy. I know that from it I have learned how to take the thoughts and feelings of others under consideration. But sometimes I hit a large snag and realize that my dad was right and still is in a lot of ways - sometimes I'm far too concerned about making myself feel better that I don't consider the feelings of others. I say things that make me feel better, or stronger, and they come out wrong because I didn't consider how the other person might take them. I hear my father's words and realize that the more I do this, the farther I stray from a happy and fulfilled life.
When we go through life feeling we're doing okay, feeling ourselves fall so far jolts our reality in a big way. Suddenly we do things that go against what we've always felt was right, and even though they seem right at the time, they are revealed as awful later on. It's a realization I must make to continue this process of self-growth, for sure.
I just hope it's not too late.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Dreams are Not My Friends
Though I know dreams work for us, in helping us organize our minds and purge stressful thoughts, for me they seem to be doing nothing but harm lately: I will be asleep one moment, immersed in a very good dream of better times, and awake to hear voices and see faces as clear as if I'd seen them or heard them yesterday. But I awake alone. And it seems that no matter how hard I work during the day to regain myself, the night works against me and I am lost again when morning comes.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
To Print in Big Letters and Hang on my Wall
"[O]n the starboard hand of every woe, there is a sure delight; and higher the top of that delight, than the bottom of the woe is deep."
Herman Melville
Herman Melville
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Everything to Everyone
In trying times, I have discovered that no one friend can be everything for me. My friends are compartmentalized, each one serving his or her purpose, just as I am for them: I know that I cannot be everything to everyone either. The ones that mean the most to me are scattered around the country, unable to be on-call 24/7, and this I understand. They shouldn’t be. But that doesn’t make me yearn for them any less. This weekend I spent time with several friends that have played a big part in my life, and while the combination of them settled my tired soul for the weekend, I am now cast off into my life alone again. I can’t blame anyone for this but me: I must take responsibilities for the decisions I have made. But in these trying times, it’s easy to break down and wish for a relaxing evening and warm hug from someone who knows me almost better than I know myself - and become caught up in dreams that this will once again be my reality on a daily basis. Ideally, that someone will be me.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
To Rebuild
A structure that can no longer serve its purpose can sometimes be remodeled. If the foundations are strong, you can get away with surface improvements – painting, carpeting, and plumbing, for example. Sometimes, more work is needed – perhaps the roof must be patched, the drywall fixed, the flooring replaced. But sometimes, even after making all of these changes, the very core of the structure is the cause of its downfall, and you must tear the whole thing down and begin again, brick by brick.
Over the last few years I have been attempting to make surface changes to my structure: first cosmetic improvements, then some practical ones. But when these didn’t work, I found I had to try harder: patches, major structural repairs. I let these stand for a while, and ignored the roof leaking and the foundation sagging. I let them stand for so long that one morning I woke up and my entire structure had collapsed around me, when I should have made the decision to have it torn down some time ago.
So now I sit, surrounded by the rubble that was once, long ago, a secure structure. I must stand up and rebuild slowly. I must not be tempted to cut corners and use materials that may appear shiny, convenient, or cheap. I must not be swayed by the way others have built their own structures, because while they may be safe in them, I may not. And I must not decline the help of more experienced builders who have made their own structures strong enough to resist the threats of time and the elements, because they will have much to teach me about how to make my own free-standing environment.
I do not remember how I built my structure the first time, just as I do not remember learning to write my name. But as I stand before my cleared lot, a nice deep hole dug for the basement and another in the back for a swimming pool (I will not leave anything out this time), I see the possibilities laid out before me in all directions. My rooms do not have to be arranged the same way they were before, and I can choose the walls to be any color I want. No one else can tell me how to build my own shower, or kitchen, or laundry room. The choices are mine alone, and while these choices sometimes overwhelm me, deep down they are exciting.
Once it’s done (or appears to be done, for a structure is never truly done), I might invite someone else in to share it with me. But I hope this won’t happen for a while - not until the last colorful tile is cemented to the kitchen backsplash and the sawdust vacuumed away. Until then I will try and embrace and enjoy the long process of reconstruction, and like stubborn residents of a tropical island in the path of hurricane after hurricane, resolve to always rebuild again.
Over the last few years I have been attempting to make surface changes to my structure: first cosmetic improvements, then some practical ones. But when these didn’t work, I found I had to try harder: patches, major structural repairs. I let these stand for a while, and ignored the roof leaking and the foundation sagging. I let them stand for so long that one morning I woke up and my entire structure had collapsed around me, when I should have made the decision to have it torn down some time ago.
So now I sit, surrounded by the rubble that was once, long ago, a secure structure. I must stand up and rebuild slowly. I must not be tempted to cut corners and use materials that may appear shiny, convenient, or cheap. I must not be swayed by the way others have built their own structures, because while they may be safe in them, I may not. And I must not decline the help of more experienced builders who have made their own structures strong enough to resist the threats of time and the elements, because they will have much to teach me about how to make my own free-standing environment.
I do not remember how I built my structure the first time, just as I do not remember learning to write my name. But as I stand before my cleared lot, a nice deep hole dug for the basement and another in the back for a swimming pool (I will not leave anything out this time), I see the possibilities laid out before me in all directions. My rooms do not have to be arranged the same way they were before, and I can choose the walls to be any color I want. No one else can tell me how to build my own shower, or kitchen, or laundry room. The choices are mine alone, and while these choices sometimes overwhelm me, deep down they are exciting.
Once it’s done (or appears to be done, for a structure is never truly done), I might invite someone else in to share it with me. But I hope this won’t happen for a while - not until the last colorful tile is cemented to the kitchen backsplash and the sawdust vacuumed away. Until then I will try and embrace and enjoy the long process of reconstruction, and like stubborn residents of a tropical island in the path of hurricane after hurricane, resolve to always rebuild again.
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