in Sacrament Meeting today the speakers talked about kindness. generally i think i'm a kind person...outwardly anyway. i need to improve my thoughts in this respect. i'm not always kind in the things i think about people. it's worst when i drive in the car; i get impatient with some of the other drivers and call them morons in my mind and yell for them to get out of the way (even though i know they can't hear me). i'd never call a person a moron to their face, so why am i calling them one when they can't hear me? the problem is generally not with them, it's with me. i need to be more patient and kind, not only on the road, but with the general public with whom i interact at work, and also with my family and a few certain friends who just seem to know how to push the wrong button. i have improved over the years, i'm slower to anger and try to hold my tongue and walk away before things get too heated; i really try to be kind, but it's often to the point of being a pushover, which is not so good either.
the person i tend to be most unkind toward, though, is myself. i've noticed recently that my thoughts toward myself are too often negative and demeaning. i've learned over the years to kindly accept compliments from others with a smile and a "thank you" but i don't know how to compliment myself. maybe learning to be kinder to myself will help make me kinder to others...and vice versa.
today as i listened to the speakers i thought of two things in particular, besides simply my need to be kinder: 1) Sydney Bristow. 2) the Weasel.
1) i've been watching a bit of Alias this week. it's what i do now and then when i feel a little lost and weary from the world. the show is my favorite for many reasons, one of which is Sydney Bristow. in so many ways, she is the person i want to be...i mean, if i could choose a fictional character to be reincarnated as (if i believed in such things), it would be her (well, not entirely, she dresses immodestly sometimes and she sleeps with men she's not married to, but as far as looks and personality go, i want to be her). the reason i thought of her during the talk is because she is one of the kindest people (fictional or not) that i've every seen. don't get me wrong, she can kick your trash and she doesn't really hesitate to kill people if they are trying to kill her, but she is generally very kind to everyone, even if they aren't being particularly kind to her. she is strong, brave, meek, sincere, independent, happy, friendly, versatile, and loving (as long as you're not trying to kill her or someone she loves). anyway, this probably doesn't make much sense to anyone reading this but it doesn't have to. i'm just kind of writing because it's on my mind and i haven't written in a while. we'll move on to the second thought because it's the more significant one.
2) the reason i thought of the Weasel during a talk about kindness isn't because he was particularly kind, though he was when he wanted to be; it's because the title i gave him all those years ago is an unkind one. over the years i have worked very hard to forgive him and repair the damage he caused inside of me and the wreck i let him make of my life. i don't hate him, i never really hated him. he abused my kindness and generosity and he is a big part of the reason i am not as kind and generous as i once was. but what i realized today is that i can never truly forgive and be free of the trouble he caused until i stop calling him such an unkind name. he is the only person to whom i've ever given an unkind nickname (as far as i can think of anyway), and no matter what he did to me, i should be the kinder person and stop holding it all against him. there was a time when he was one of my dearest friends and a man i loved with too much of my silly little heart. from now on i'll try to remember the better things and the good times we had and let go of the rest. i still don't like his real name, though, and since i don't know what else to call him, i'll try to just not write or talk...or even think about him at all. he's been out of my life for nearly 6 years now, it's about time i finish forgiving and forgetting.
my quest for the week then (and longer, really, but i thought a week seemed like a doable goal; i prefer to take life a day or week at a time, less overwhelming that way) is to focus on being more kind to those around me and also to myself. i'll also try harder to notice the kindnesses i receive from others.
p.s. sorry this isn't particularly well written or coherent, my brain is sleeping and a little mushy, but i wanted to say something about what i learned about kindness before it slipped away entirely. thanks for reading! :)
15 September 2013
01 September 2013
the me you see
sometimes i forget. i'm with me all the time and so i know myself, my intentions, my humor, my intelligence, my dark and my light. i'm afraid the brief contact you have with me over facebook or my blog paints me as a rather dismal and depressed person...and on one hand i am...on the other hand i am the opposite (not in a bipolar way though, i promise).
i guess i forget how i may be perceived. i get so little response to anything that i figure people are just ignoring me. the reason this is what you see of me is because it's my writing and my writing began as a sort of coping mechanism. i've been pretty lonely and isolated a lot of my life because i'm shy and a little different than most and often misunderstood (partly because of the depression, partly because my personality, sense of humor, dreams, goals and desires would have fit better in an earlier time period and therefore, i have never really fit in with the majority of my contemporaries). in high school, writing became my outlet and my companionship. The Page always understands me, always listens, and is always interested in and supportive of everything i give to it. since very few people ever comment on things i say here or on facebook, i tend to forget that anyone might be reading. sometimes i come to these places with the vague hope that somehow my weak and admittedly rather passive-aggressive attempts to request support, validation, kindness, friendship, or sympathetic contact will be well answered. most of the time it does not turn out that way. i am generally left alone. i suppose i should be used to it by now. i've never really had a mentor or someone who took notice and reached out to pull me from myself. i have so much to give but no one wants it. especially now. all my friends have moved on to their own families, their husband or wife and children. there's no room for solitary me. this is just one more circumstance that widens the chasm between me and the rest of the world.
i am grateful for the few who make an effort to keep contact, invite me around or come when i ask. Bestest Friend, Shygirl and i try to get together a couple times a month...it's nowhere near enough contact for me, but i'm grateful for what they are able to give. The Artist and his dear, sweet wife still come around a couple times a month. i want to hang out with others of my married friends but i don't want to step on toes or get in the way of their domestic responsibilities. i don't want to be alone anymore and i don't understand why i have to be.
i've signed up for online dating again. it's no use. all i get are skanky old men (seriously, 60 and 70 year olds) sending me flirts or saying my picture is pretty. what am i going to do with a geriatric? no thanks. i guess i'm not phenomenal or the most beautiful or successful or whatever but i am kind of a catch and i don't understand why the nice and good men can't see that.
recently i've been a little caught up in nostalgia the last few days. kind of a longing for the past and a great desire to go back about 10 years and change some of the decisions i made then. i want to soak up more of the affection that so freely flowed through the institute back then. i miss those dear people. i miss walking into the room and hearing a chorus of people so happy to see me, and all the arms outstretched and eager to embrace me. i miss having something to do every day that involved at least a few, if not a whole group of people. i miss the weasel before he was a weasel. i miss game nights and mini road trips. i miss movies and conversations and frisbee and Leatherby's or Village Inn or Dee's. i miss dances and parties and just hanging out at the institute. i miss the hope and contentment. i miss all the single people who were so similar to myself. i really miss the hugs.
can i go back in time for just a couple of days to revive my hope and refill my reservoir? i don't remember the last time i had a really good hug or a satisfying conversation. i'm so tired all the time because my reserve is empty. i need more fillers and fewer drains in my life but i don't know where to find them. i enjoy my job and i'm generally in a happy place when i'm there. i love hanging out with my niece and nephews. i love the time i do get to spend with friends. i wish i had more time with the people i adore. i wish i could catch up with everyone else so i could stop being left out all the time. or i wish i could find that amazing job or the best-selling book idea and become rich, then i'd just buy more friends...ok, maybe not.
anyway, the point behind this silly tangent is that i'm more than what you see here and i'll try to be more positive and post more positive things instead of just writing as an outlet. invite me around and you'll see i'm really quite delightful in person.
i guess i forget how i may be perceived. i get so little response to anything that i figure people are just ignoring me. the reason this is what you see of me is because it's my writing and my writing began as a sort of coping mechanism. i've been pretty lonely and isolated a lot of my life because i'm shy and a little different than most and often misunderstood (partly because of the depression, partly because my personality, sense of humor, dreams, goals and desires would have fit better in an earlier time period and therefore, i have never really fit in with the majority of my contemporaries). in high school, writing became my outlet and my companionship. The Page always understands me, always listens, and is always interested in and supportive of everything i give to it. since very few people ever comment on things i say here or on facebook, i tend to forget that anyone might be reading. sometimes i come to these places with the vague hope that somehow my weak and admittedly rather passive-aggressive attempts to request support, validation, kindness, friendship, or sympathetic contact will be well answered. most of the time it does not turn out that way. i am generally left alone. i suppose i should be used to it by now. i've never really had a mentor or someone who took notice and reached out to pull me from myself. i have so much to give but no one wants it. especially now. all my friends have moved on to their own families, their husband or wife and children. there's no room for solitary me. this is just one more circumstance that widens the chasm between me and the rest of the world.
i am grateful for the few who make an effort to keep contact, invite me around or come when i ask. Bestest Friend, Shygirl and i try to get together a couple times a month...it's nowhere near enough contact for me, but i'm grateful for what they are able to give. The Artist and his dear, sweet wife still come around a couple times a month. i want to hang out with others of my married friends but i don't want to step on toes or get in the way of their domestic responsibilities. i don't want to be alone anymore and i don't understand why i have to be.
i've signed up for online dating again. it's no use. all i get are skanky old men (seriously, 60 and 70 year olds) sending me flirts or saying my picture is pretty. what am i going to do with a geriatric? no thanks. i guess i'm not phenomenal or the most beautiful or successful or whatever but i am kind of a catch and i don't understand why the nice and good men can't see that.
recently i've been a little caught up in nostalgia the last few days. kind of a longing for the past and a great desire to go back about 10 years and change some of the decisions i made then. i want to soak up more of the affection that so freely flowed through the institute back then. i miss those dear people. i miss walking into the room and hearing a chorus of people so happy to see me, and all the arms outstretched and eager to embrace me. i miss having something to do every day that involved at least a few, if not a whole group of people. i miss the weasel before he was a weasel. i miss game nights and mini road trips. i miss movies and conversations and frisbee and Leatherby's or Village Inn or Dee's. i miss dances and parties and just hanging out at the institute. i miss the hope and contentment. i miss all the single people who were so similar to myself. i really miss the hugs.
can i go back in time for just a couple of days to revive my hope and refill my reservoir? i don't remember the last time i had a really good hug or a satisfying conversation. i'm so tired all the time because my reserve is empty. i need more fillers and fewer drains in my life but i don't know where to find them. i enjoy my job and i'm generally in a happy place when i'm there. i love hanging out with my niece and nephews. i love the time i do get to spend with friends. i wish i had more time with the people i adore. i wish i could catch up with everyone else so i could stop being left out all the time. or i wish i could find that amazing job or the best-selling book idea and become rich, then i'd just buy more friends...ok, maybe not.
anyway, the point behind this silly tangent is that i'm more than what you see here and i'll try to be more positive and post more positive things instead of just writing as an outlet. invite me around and you'll see i'm really quite delightful in person.
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