Life lesson number 4 is.... you can't make someone love you, so don't even go there! Inevitably, there will come a time when you lose your heart to someone who doesn't even know that you breath. It happens. It happens to everybody. Keep walking.
I know, I sound harsh. For whatever reason, people just seem to be hardwired to desire certain traits. If you try to become what that other person wants, you will lose yourself. Then you try even harder and you become a doormat. Then you become despised. I've never seen it work any other way. Sometimes it takes weeks. Sometimes it takes years, a marriage, a car payment and two children before it becomes painfully obvious. But that's the way it plays out.
So, what do you do? You go and be the best you that you can be!!! Develop your talents and strengths. BE HAPPY!! Enjoy the life you were given and keep your eyes peeled because you will attract the person that was hardwired for what you have to offer.
When I was young and met the person who didn't realize I had a beating heart, I was smart. I kept my mouth shut. I paid attention. I realized that he was attracted to girls that were wee slips of femininity. That was a strong clue that it was a bad direction to go. Me! Destined to be a Warrior Woman! I'm tellin' ya'. I've got some guns on me! I've been told that body builders would be jealous of the weight I can press with my inside thigh! I CAN'T do a wee slip of femininity! Shortly, after my realization, I met Mac. Who needed a strong woman. Who wouldn't have known what to do with a girly-girl.
This rule also extends to friendship. You just can't make someone love or even like you. Few will heed this particular life lesson, but it is true none the less. I know, it sucks.
Showing posts with label life lesson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life lesson. Show all posts
Friday, September 24, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Life Lesson #3
Life lesson number 3 is a big one.... a hard one. Know yourself.
We all have that facade that we want to perpetuate. Everybody does that. In your own self , you need to know what's hype and what's real. When it gets down to it, you'd better be able to define what you are capable of. This is information that you will need when the defecation hits the rotary oscillator. I know.
Recently some friends told me about a tough time that they went through. Well, I said, why didn't you do .....? The response was that I didn't know what it was like! I would have been caught off guard! That I wouldn't have been able to respond to the situation either!
But that's incorrect. I can predict my behavior under stressful circumstances because I know myself. I may not be the best person for your team when it's sunny out. I KNOW that about myself. On the other hand I also know that I escaped from someone that was trying to commit bodily harm when I was sixteen. I know that, once when angry, I tried to pick up a three hundred pound man and throw him. I was unsuccessful... but I tried. I have held the hand of a friend, when they died, urging them to , "BREATHE!!". As the caregiver I have stopped my husband from receiving medication that he was allergic to. I have yelled at doctors to fight for care protocols. I have stood in the middle of a country road and talked to a mountain lion until it decided to leave. I know myself. I know what I am. I know what I am capable of. I know it isn't all good.
The up side is, because I know myself, no one else gets to define me.
louie
another P.S. today. Mac's Dr. visit went well yesterday. They will keep his next visit out to six weeks again. If his improvement continues next visit out will be eight weeks.
Something else... I've contacted a very nice fellow in Australia. He is going to walk me through building my outdoor oven. Watch for a link on the sidebar in the next couple of days to his site. He has lots of pictures and info. I just have to figure out how to do this linking stuff! I'm so much better with a drill then I am with computers!! Anyway watch for the topic traditional ovens and the name Rado.
We all have that facade that we want to perpetuate. Everybody does that. In your own self , you need to know what's hype and what's real. When it gets down to it, you'd better be able to define what you are capable of. This is information that you will need when the defecation hits the rotary oscillator. I know.
Recently some friends told me about a tough time that they went through. Well, I said, why didn't you do .....? The response was that I didn't know what it was like! I would have been caught off guard! That I wouldn't have been able to respond to the situation either!
But that's incorrect. I can predict my behavior under stressful circumstances because I know myself. I may not be the best person for your team when it's sunny out. I KNOW that about myself. On the other hand I also know that I escaped from someone that was trying to commit bodily harm when I was sixteen. I know that, once when angry, I tried to pick up a three hundred pound man and throw him. I was unsuccessful... but I tried. I have held the hand of a friend, when they died, urging them to , "BREATHE!!". As the caregiver I have stopped my husband from receiving medication that he was allergic to. I have yelled at doctors to fight for care protocols. I have stood in the middle of a country road and talked to a mountain lion until it decided to leave. I know myself. I know what I am. I know what I am capable of. I know it isn't all good.
The up side is, because I know myself, no one else gets to define me.
louie
another P.S. today. Mac's Dr. visit went well yesterday. They will keep his next visit out to six weeks again. If his improvement continues next visit out will be eight weeks.
Something else... I've contacted a very nice fellow in Australia. He is going to walk me through building my outdoor oven. Watch for a link on the sidebar in the next couple of days to his site. He has lots of pictures and info. I just have to figure out how to do this linking stuff! I'm so much better with a drill then I am with computers!! Anyway watch for the topic traditional ovens and the name Rado.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Life Lesson #2
Like life lesson #1, lesson #2 could probably go under some sort of subheading entitled Buck Up! I call #2 "You're only a victim if you make yourself one"
Let me illustrate. This was an experience I had the summer between fifth and sixth grade. My dad was a social worker at the time. He was working a high stress, fairly crap job, of being a director at a settlement house. For those who don't have an urban background, a settlement house is a community resource that has activities, a small library, a place for kids to go to do something or simply to get off the streets for a while... a haven. This particular place was called Wilkie House.
During the course of summer, there were several day camp sessions and Dad thought I should come along with him and do the camp for a week and get out of the house. So on Monday, off I go with Dad on his way to work. On the first day, we started out in the gym getting assigned into groups and meeting our group leader/counselor. We had an unfortunate mix. Our group drew the only white face on the premises ... mine. I was okay with that. The bad part was our group also drew the only person out of the sea of 150-200 kids that had a problem with there being a white face in her territory. Let's just say that she had no problem making her presence felt. Every time she made a belligerent statement or rude comment, the other kids would just watch. It seemed that every minute of the day was filled with tension so thick you could cut it.
That night when we went home Dad asked if I had a good day. I told him it was alright.
Day two started out the same. Around the middle of the day everyone was in the gym. All the kids of the camp, standing, packed against the walls. Just my luck, I was standing next to "HER". I was leaning against the wall staring at the floor. She yelled at me,"Why you lookin' at my feet?!!" I responded that I wasn't looking at her feet. I was looking at the floor. Which was exactly what I resumed doing. Trying my damndest to make myself invisible. My bad luck was that she could still see me. She had planted herself in front of me, drew back and roundhouse slapped me across the face. It made a crack so loud that everyone heard it. You could have heard a pin drop in that gym. My first thought was that someone else would want to step up and hit me too. I stood up square and I did not cry. I welled up a little but I did not cry. John our counselor beat it over, post haste, inquired into our activities. She angrily made the accusation of looking at her feet. In case that was some kind of an offense, I said I hadn't been looking at her feet. I was staring at the floor.
Well, she had left some evidence on my face, not to mention a LOT of witnesses, so John took her out. I think everybody expected me to cry, or to run out and go look for my dad. I leaned against the wall and resumed staring at the floor. The rest of the day was spent coping with staring eyes. Other then John, no one talked to me the rest of the day.
That night when we went home Dad asked if I had a good day. I told him it was alright.
Day three was surprising. I think everyone must have thought I would tell what happened when I got home. That retribution would rain down on them. Once again, all eyes were on me during our roll call and breaking into groups. Then we all realized that nothing was going to happen to us. My antagonist didn't come back. There was no whiplash disciplinary action. We relaxed. We had fun. They tried to teach me to do a proper lay up shot and most came to a belief that white girls really can't dribble.
By the end of day three, I had learned the lesson that things can be so much better if you decide to not be a victim.
I figure if people who survive Auschwitz can choose to not be victims... if people like Christopher Reeves chooses to not be a victim, why would I? I see people rush to assume the mantle of "VICTIM". They had a bad week, a bad experience, someone was mean to them..... poor me, poor me. BULLSHIT! If I can learn and activate this lesson when I am eleven then someone in their twenties, thirties, forties...... should be able to pull up their big girl panties and create a life lesson out of their experience. And most importantly, it isn't about doing nothing... it's about doing right and being fair, and sometimes that means knowing that your own pride and ego need to be taking the back seat.
I have thought of that girl many times. I have often felt bad that I was even there, invading her territory, making her defensive. Oh well, I can only hope the story earned her a free drink somewhere a long the line.
louie
Let me illustrate. This was an experience I had the summer between fifth and sixth grade. My dad was a social worker at the time. He was working a high stress, fairly crap job, of being a director at a settlement house. For those who don't have an urban background, a settlement house is a community resource that has activities, a small library, a place for kids to go to do something or simply to get off the streets for a while... a haven. This particular place was called Wilkie House.
During the course of summer, there were several day camp sessions and Dad thought I should come along with him and do the camp for a week and get out of the house. So on Monday, off I go with Dad on his way to work. On the first day, we started out in the gym getting assigned into groups and meeting our group leader/counselor. We had an unfortunate mix. Our group drew the only white face on the premises ... mine. I was okay with that. The bad part was our group also drew the only person out of the sea of 150-200 kids that had a problem with there being a white face in her territory. Let's just say that she had no problem making her presence felt. Every time she made a belligerent statement or rude comment, the other kids would just watch. It seemed that every minute of the day was filled with tension so thick you could cut it.
That night when we went home Dad asked if I had a good day. I told him it was alright.
Day two started out the same. Around the middle of the day everyone was in the gym. All the kids of the camp, standing, packed against the walls. Just my luck, I was standing next to "HER". I was leaning against the wall staring at the floor. She yelled at me,"Why you lookin' at my feet?!!" I responded that I wasn't looking at her feet. I was looking at the floor. Which was exactly what I resumed doing. Trying my damndest to make myself invisible. My bad luck was that she could still see me. She had planted herself in front of me, drew back and roundhouse slapped me across the face. It made a crack so loud that everyone heard it. You could have heard a pin drop in that gym. My first thought was that someone else would want to step up and hit me too. I stood up square and I did not cry. I welled up a little but I did not cry. John our counselor beat it over, post haste, inquired into our activities. She angrily made the accusation of looking at her feet. In case that was some kind of an offense, I said I hadn't been looking at her feet. I was staring at the floor.
Well, she had left some evidence on my face, not to mention a LOT of witnesses, so John took her out. I think everybody expected me to cry, or to run out and go look for my dad. I leaned against the wall and resumed staring at the floor. The rest of the day was spent coping with staring eyes. Other then John, no one talked to me the rest of the day.
That night when we went home Dad asked if I had a good day. I told him it was alright.
Day three was surprising. I think everyone must have thought I would tell what happened when I got home. That retribution would rain down on them. Once again, all eyes were on me during our roll call and breaking into groups. Then we all realized that nothing was going to happen to us. My antagonist didn't come back. There was no whiplash disciplinary action. We relaxed. We had fun. They tried to teach me to do a proper lay up shot and most came to a belief that white girls really can't dribble.
By the end of day three, I had learned the lesson that things can be so much better if you decide to not be a victim.
I figure if people who survive Auschwitz can choose to not be victims... if people like Christopher Reeves chooses to not be a victim, why would I? I see people rush to assume the mantle of "VICTIM". They had a bad week, a bad experience, someone was mean to them..... poor me, poor me. BULLSHIT! If I can learn and activate this lesson when I am eleven then someone in their twenties, thirties, forties...... should be able to pull up their big girl panties and create a life lesson out of their experience. And most importantly, it isn't about doing nothing... it's about doing right and being fair, and sometimes that means knowing that your own pride and ego need to be taking the back seat.
I have thought of that girl many times. I have often felt bad that I was even there, invading her territory, making her defensive. Oh well, I can only hope the story earned her a free drink somewhere a long the line.
louie
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