Anyone that plays music and tries to record themselves knows that it's pretty much always disappointing, but it's a process right. And here's part of mine :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJPSY5EqeTE&feature=em-upload_owner
Monday, December 30, 2013
How Golf Saved My Life
I had the perfect life. I had a blissfully happy marriage, two wonderful sons, a loving extended family, and a successful veterinary practice where my vocation was my avocation. On the morning of January 10, 2010, when we woke up, my husband, Nick, rolled over in bed, gave me a kiss, and said "life is good".
I had come to golf late in my forties when my eldest son, Billy, played on his high school varsity golf team. I was hooked immediately. I devoured everything golf related from sports psychology to Dave Pelz's latest statistics on chipping.
I played most of the time with my family, and it was great time together.
On the afternoon of January 10, 2010, my life took a turn never anticipated. My husband had a small veterinary practice on the nearby island of Lana'i. He was a private pilot and would fly from our home in Honolulu to Lana'i most Sundays, often taking our youngest son , Timmy, with him.
At about 2 pm, I simultaneously got a phone call and a policeman at my door. My eldest son, Billy grabbed the phone as my heart sank and I opened the door for the officer. He asked me if my husband was Dr. Nicholas Palumbo, and then if he was flying, and what his plane's tail number was. I immediately knew he had crashed with our youngest son Timmy. I couldn't breathe, as Billy handed me the phone, saying gravely "It's the tower, they lost contact with Dad."
That was the day my world fell apart. As Billy said, we lost half of our family. Their bodies were brought off of the mountain by helicopter just a few miles from our home the next day. Nick had gotten into rapidly changing weather, lost visibility, and hit the mountain. He and my beloved son, Timmy died on impact, then the plane caught fire and burned their bodies beyond recognition.
I was in shock, and Billy and I stumbled through the next few weeks like zombies getting things done, barely able to comprehend our loss.
Among those who loved Nick and Timmy was my brother-in-law, Bill, a huge golf enthusiast . Retired, Uncle Bill plays 6 days a week. My family was sitting around talking about nothing, and Bill said bring your putter and a wedge, lets go hit some balls. We went to my favorite muni, and putted and chipped for a couple of hours. We spoke mostly of golf, he helped me with my short game. And we occasionally spoke of how much we loved Nick and Timmy, telling funny stories about them.
That summer, I went to spend a few weeks with Bill in Connecticut. He would pick me up every morning at 5 am. I was lucky to play with him and his buddies. We were dewsweepers, as his buddy Ray owned the course.
That was the beginning of my return to life. Unable to work for months, I would play the back nine at my muni. It was in a stunning setting, even considering the everyday beautiful of my home in Hawaii. I usually played by myself in the early morning dew. I cried, railed against the forces that took my precious boys from me; it was impossible to not realize in all of my pain that I was surrounded by breathtaking beauty. I hit the ball, trying to stay in the moment. I hit the ball fat, I hit it thin, the ball flew effortlessly long, and I stubbed it 20 yards to the left. It didnt matter, I just hit the damn ball.
The clouds poured over the Koolau mountain range like cotton candy as the sky turned pink. I left the course refreshed and better equipped to face the day. For a bit of time I had control and focus.... Even though it was on a little white ball.
I continued to play 5-6 times weekly by myself in the early morning mist. Friends joined me later. They saved me from myself. They made me laugh, allowed me to cry, and kept my spirits up. We created a top ten list of stupid things people said to me after the accident. Some have joined our golf lexicon, for instance , some bonehead told me and Billy" it could have been worse." We say that often.
Life goes on. I am deeply impacted by the devastating loss of Nick and Timmy. I am able to function and pretend to be normal. But I'll never "get over it".
Thank goodness for golf , it continues to soothe my soul, I have discussions with my boys on the course, especially at dawn and twilight. My golf friends make living easier, are always there for me. And every once in a while, my beautiful young son Timmy helps me to sink a long put.
Once again,
"Life is Good".
By: Sue Palumbo (aka Auntie Sue)
I had come to golf late in my forties when my eldest son, Billy, played on his high school varsity golf team. I was hooked immediately. I devoured everything golf related from sports psychology to Dave Pelz's latest statistics on chipping.
I played most of the time with my family, and it was great time together.
On the afternoon of January 10, 2010, my life took a turn never anticipated. My husband had a small veterinary practice on the nearby island of Lana'i. He was a private pilot and would fly from our home in Honolulu to Lana'i most Sundays, often taking our youngest son , Timmy, with him.
At about 2 pm, I simultaneously got a phone call and a policeman at my door. My eldest son, Billy grabbed the phone as my heart sank and I opened the door for the officer. He asked me if my husband was Dr. Nicholas Palumbo, and then if he was flying, and what his plane's tail number was. I immediately knew he had crashed with our youngest son Timmy. I couldn't breathe, as Billy handed me the phone, saying gravely "It's the tower, they lost contact with Dad."
That was the day my world fell apart. As Billy said, we lost half of our family. Their bodies were brought off of the mountain by helicopter just a few miles from our home the next day. Nick had gotten into rapidly changing weather, lost visibility, and hit the mountain. He and my beloved son, Timmy died on impact, then the plane caught fire and burned their bodies beyond recognition.
I was in shock, and Billy and I stumbled through the next few weeks like zombies getting things done, barely able to comprehend our loss.
Among those who loved Nick and Timmy was my brother-in-law, Bill, a huge golf enthusiast . Retired, Uncle Bill plays 6 days a week. My family was sitting around talking about nothing, and Bill said bring your putter and a wedge, lets go hit some balls. We went to my favorite muni, and putted and chipped for a couple of hours. We spoke mostly of golf, he helped me with my short game. And we occasionally spoke of how much we loved Nick and Timmy, telling funny stories about them.
That summer, I went to spend a few weeks with Bill in Connecticut. He would pick me up every morning at 5 am. I was lucky to play with him and his buddies. We were dewsweepers, as his buddy Ray owned the course.
That was the beginning of my return to life. Unable to work for months, I would play the back nine at my muni. It was in a stunning setting, even considering the everyday beautiful of my home in Hawaii. I usually played by myself in the early morning dew. I cried, railed against the forces that took my precious boys from me; it was impossible to not realize in all of my pain that I was surrounded by breathtaking beauty. I hit the ball, trying to stay in the moment. I hit the ball fat, I hit it thin, the ball flew effortlessly long, and I stubbed it 20 yards to the left. It didnt matter, I just hit the damn ball.
The clouds poured over the Koolau mountain range like cotton candy as the sky turned pink. I left the course refreshed and better equipped to face the day. For a bit of time I had control and focus.... Even though it was on a little white ball.
I continued to play 5-6 times weekly by myself in the early morning mist. Friends joined me later. They saved me from myself. They made me laugh, allowed me to cry, and kept my spirits up. We created a top ten list of stupid things people said to me after the accident. Some have joined our golf lexicon, for instance , some bonehead told me and Billy" it could have been worse." We say that often.
Life goes on. I am deeply impacted by the devastating loss of Nick and Timmy. I am able to function and pretend to be normal. But I'll never "get over it".
Thank goodness for golf , it continues to soothe my soul, I have discussions with my boys on the course, especially at dawn and twilight. My golf friends make living easier, are always there for me. And every once in a while, my beautiful young son Timmy helps me to sink a long put.
Once again,
"Life is Good".
By: Sue Palumbo (aka Auntie Sue)
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Celibacy
There are times when people come into your life at what feels like just the right time. They give you a boost of strength to do something that you have wanted to do for a long time, but didn't have the courage. I'm not saying that those people should be given the credit for your own achievements, but they are the landmarks and the signposts to certain events in our lives. Sometimes good and sometimes bad. Sometimes they stay for a while and sometimes they don't. Sometimes we try to cling to them because they represent something great to us and we feel a strong connection to them, but they can't reciprocate.
I used to take offense when people didn't reciprocate and didn't want to spend as much time with me as I them or keep in contact with me as frequently as I them. But as life passes I realize that, for the most part, it is not to do with me. We are all drawn to different people, at different times, for different reasons and it's irrelevant whether you draw them back. I mean, I do my best to be a good friend to people that do the same for me. But the exchange cannot be controlled, cannot be measured. You can't know if you did for someone more than they did for you or vice-versa.
My grandfather said to me recently, upon asking how he and my grandmother had made it through 61 years of marriage, that the key to marriage is to always give more than the other person. Because in a relationship it always feels like you're giving more, but there is no measurement stick. We just have to give. I imagine the same goes for having children.
A person came into my life recently that allowed me to view my sexuality in a different way. I have gotten so caught up in the goal post of intercourse, that I have forgotten to appreciate everything else that comes out of attraction. Attraction can take us down many different paths, and not immediately trying to satiate that attraction through sex can open doors that we didn't know existed. What happens when you don't have sex with someone you're attracted to? I know for many, the answer is easy to come by, but not for me.
I realize that I view men that I'm attracted to as sex objects. I got so caught up in the culture of women being sex objects and trying to take back my power by making men sex objects instead. I have to say that I may have become good at it (not that it was hard), but it has never satisfied me. I am starting to realize that there is so much more that can be gotten out of a relationship with a man when you don't have sex with him. My self-esteem and self-respect have increased since coming to this realization.
For so long I was afraid that men wouldn't be attracted to me if I didn't have sex with them. I was SO SO afraid. Somehow I got the idea in my head that I am ugly. I don't know where it came from, but it has been with me from when I started becoming aware of self-image. I still feel it at times when my mood is low. It hurts and it sucks. But guess what? I'm overcoming it and boy does it feel good.
The message that I don't need to have sex to be attractive is a powerful one and my impulse is to attach this feeling to the person that provided me with the opportunity to view my sexuality in such a way, although it has been a long time coming. There is a fear that I will only be able to continue to have this feeling by keeping in contact with this person. But I am an intelligent being and ultimately I know that it's not true, so as much as I'd like to continue a relationship with this person, it is really up to both of us to do so and if he doesn't want to then it is his choice and I choose not to take offense.
Through my other relationships with men whom I don't have sex with, I continue to build my self-esteem and self-respect by teaching them how to show me respect, by having deep conversations with them about how the way they talk to me or treat me has made me feel in the past, and their openness to the conversations brings me great joy.
I guess growing up isn't so bad after all :)
So in conclusion, I have realized that due to circumstance, rather than a conscious decision of my own, I have not had intercourse with another person since July 9th, 2013. So, I have decided to make it a conscious decision by going for a year, since I'm almost half-way there. It's not just a year of specifically not having sex, but a year of discovering what the other options are, what the other possibilities of connection can be. Maybe I won't have sex again until I'm 30, maybe I won't make it to July 9, 2014. Who knows?
So I leave you to look forward to my future blogging experiences of being a consciously celibate individual and I leave you with this quote:
"Celibacy is not just a matter of not having sex. It is a way of admiring a person for their humanity, maybe even their beauty." By: Timothy Radcliffe
I used to take offense when people didn't reciprocate and didn't want to spend as much time with me as I them or keep in contact with me as frequently as I them. But as life passes I realize that, for the most part, it is not to do with me. We are all drawn to different people, at different times, for different reasons and it's irrelevant whether you draw them back. I mean, I do my best to be a good friend to people that do the same for me. But the exchange cannot be controlled, cannot be measured. You can't know if you did for someone more than they did for you or vice-versa.
My grandfather said to me recently, upon asking how he and my grandmother had made it through 61 years of marriage, that the key to marriage is to always give more than the other person. Because in a relationship it always feels like you're giving more, but there is no measurement stick. We just have to give. I imagine the same goes for having children.
A person came into my life recently that allowed me to view my sexuality in a different way. I have gotten so caught up in the goal post of intercourse, that I have forgotten to appreciate everything else that comes out of attraction. Attraction can take us down many different paths, and not immediately trying to satiate that attraction through sex can open doors that we didn't know existed. What happens when you don't have sex with someone you're attracted to? I know for many, the answer is easy to come by, but not for me.
I realize that I view men that I'm attracted to as sex objects. I got so caught up in the culture of women being sex objects and trying to take back my power by making men sex objects instead. I have to say that I may have become good at it (not that it was hard), but it has never satisfied me. I am starting to realize that there is so much more that can be gotten out of a relationship with a man when you don't have sex with him. My self-esteem and self-respect have increased since coming to this realization.
For so long I was afraid that men wouldn't be attracted to me if I didn't have sex with them. I was SO SO afraid. Somehow I got the idea in my head that I am ugly. I don't know where it came from, but it has been with me from when I started becoming aware of self-image. I still feel it at times when my mood is low. It hurts and it sucks. But guess what? I'm overcoming it and boy does it feel good.
The message that I don't need to have sex to be attractive is a powerful one and my impulse is to attach this feeling to the person that provided me with the opportunity to view my sexuality in such a way, although it has been a long time coming. There is a fear that I will only be able to continue to have this feeling by keeping in contact with this person. But I am an intelligent being and ultimately I know that it's not true, so as much as I'd like to continue a relationship with this person, it is really up to both of us to do so and if he doesn't want to then it is his choice and I choose not to take offense.
Through my other relationships with men whom I don't have sex with, I continue to build my self-esteem and self-respect by teaching them how to show me respect, by having deep conversations with them about how the way they talk to me or treat me has made me feel in the past, and their openness to the conversations brings me great joy.
I guess growing up isn't so bad after all :)
So in conclusion, I have realized that due to circumstance, rather than a conscious decision of my own, I have not had intercourse with another person since July 9th, 2013. So, I have decided to make it a conscious decision by going for a year, since I'm almost half-way there. It's not just a year of specifically not having sex, but a year of discovering what the other options are, what the other possibilities of connection can be. Maybe I won't have sex again until I'm 30, maybe I won't make it to July 9, 2014. Who knows?
So I leave you to look forward to my future blogging experiences of being a consciously celibate individual and I leave you with this quote:
"Celibacy is not just a matter of not having sex. It is a way of admiring a person for their humanity, maybe even their beauty." By: Timothy Radcliffe
Friday, December 27, 2013
The story of my birth
After attending a 2 day birthing conference put on by the doula association of Kauai, I was inspired to ask my parents to each individually record the story of how I was born as a Christmas gift. How many people know their story? This is what they said:
From my dad:
After your brother was born, your mom and I decided that we would prefer that he not be an only child and that he would have a sister, so we ordered you. Seriously, we figured we would get pregnant whenever we could and hope for a girl. Although it only took us 2 weeks to get pregnant with Reg, it took us about 8 months for you - mostly because breastfeeding can be a form of contraception. The pregnancy was "routine" (medspeak for normal) in large part because we both already knew what to expect. We waited a bit longer to go to the hospital when you indicated that you wanted out, because we didn't want to hang around there any longer than we had to. As we were being led down the corridor to our room, we passed Room 222, which was where Reg had been delivered, and I asked if we could use it again. They didn't see any reason why not, so led us in there. After they got us settled and left, your mom and I discussed the best strategy to speed things up and agreed that she should walk around as much as she could rather than just lay in the bed. So we did. I remember having to encourage her to keep walking a time or two, but she did and thanked me later. About 90 minutes after we checked in, they had mom lay down for a check to see how close she was to delivering you. Probably due to all the walking and the fact that you were our second child, she was very close and they called for the obstetrician to come to our room. Your mom's regular OB was off that night, but his wife was on duty and came to the room with her dinner in her hand. The nurse suggested that she might want to put it down, because you were coming out NOW and there wouldn't be time for her to finish it. She did, scrubbed and gloved, and caught you on the way out on mom's second push. I remember shouting something like "It's a girl." and taking you from them as soon as they wrapped you in your receiving blanket. Your mom was a little miffed at being ignored in all of the excitement surrounding your arrival, but you were soon handed back to her to be fed. It turned out that the OB and her husband were trying to get pregnant as well, and she asked how we managed to have you pop out so soon after we arrived at the hospital. She said she hoped her birth would be as fast and easy as yours. She managed to eventually finish her dinner and left so we settled down with you for the night. The next morning we checked out and stopped at our favourite Italian deli for takeout sandwiches, just as we had done when Reg was born. That night we had a Bible study class at our place, and they were amazed that your mom was up and around less than a day after delivering you. Since she had no drugs and delivered you normally, there wasn't any reason for us to stay the extra night at the hospital, and we saw no reason to cancel the group. I think my mom came again from Oahu when you were born, just as as she had with Reg. I seem to recall my dad saying she could only be on loan to us for a few days (he couldn't get off work to come with her.) Shortly after you were born we moved from 14927 Condon Ave in Lawndale to 2205 Graham Ave in Redondo Beach. I remember our first night in the new place. The sellers had left us a bottle of champagne in the fridge to celebrate our purchase and it was the only thing that seemed to calm you down and put you to sleep that night.
And from my Mom-ma:
From my dad:
After your brother was born, your mom and I decided that we would prefer that he not be an only child and that he would have a sister, so we ordered you. Seriously, we figured we would get pregnant whenever we could and hope for a girl. Although it only took us 2 weeks to get pregnant with Reg, it took us about 8 months for you - mostly because breastfeeding can be a form of contraception. The pregnancy was "routine" (medspeak for normal) in large part because we both already knew what to expect. We waited a bit longer to go to the hospital when you indicated that you wanted out, because we didn't want to hang around there any longer than we had to. As we were being led down the corridor to our room, we passed Room 222, which was where Reg had been delivered, and I asked if we could use it again. They didn't see any reason why not, so led us in there. After they got us settled and left, your mom and I discussed the best strategy to speed things up and agreed that she should walk around as much as she could rather than just lay in the bed. So we did. I remember having to encourage her to keep walking a time or two, but she did and thanked me later. About 90 minutes after we checked in, they had mom lay down for a check to see how close she was to delivering you. Probably due to all the walking and the fact that you were our second child, she was very close and they called for the obstetrician to come to our room. Your mom's regular OB was off that night, but his wife was on duty and came to the room with her dinner in her hand. The nurse suggested that she might want to put it down, because you were coming out NOW and there wouldn't be time for her to finish it. She did, scrubbed and gloved, and caught you on the way out on mom's second push. I remember shouting something like "It's a girl." and taking you from them as soon as they wrapped you in your receiving blanket. Your mom was a little miffed at being ignored in all of the excitement surrounding your arrival, but you were soon handed back to her to be fed. It turned out that the OB and her husband were trying to get pregnant as well, and she asked how we managed to have you pop out so soon after we arrived at the hospital. She said she hoped her birth would be as fast and easy as yours. She managed to eventually finish her dinner and left so we settled down with you for the night. The next morning we checked out and stopped at our favourite Italian deli for takeout sandwiches, just as we had done when Reg was born. That night we had a Bible study class at our place, and they were amazed that your mom was up and around less than a day after delivering you. Since she had no drugs and delivered you normally, there wasn't any reason for us to stay the extra night at the hospital, and we saw no reason to cancel the group. I think my mom came again from Oahu when you were born, just as as she had with Reg. I seem to recall my dad saying she could only be on loan to us for a few days (he couldn't get off work to come with her.) Shortly after you were born we moved from 14927 Condon Ave in Lawndale to 2205 Graham Ave in Redondo Beach. I remember our first night in the new place. The sellers had left us a bottle of champagne in the fridge to celebrate our purchase and it was the only thing that seemed to calm you down and put you to sleep that night.
And from my Mom-ma:
When I was pregnant with you, Ms. Sarah, I was lucky enough not to have to work and pretty much looked after Reg and stayed home. I frequently walked down on the Strand in the South Bay of Los Angeles. The Strand is a walkway that goes along the beaches and it's a beautiful place to walk. You know how much I love to walk by the ocean! I think because we had Reg not too long before you came into our lives we were much more relaxed about the birth and weren't in any rush to go to the hospital. In fact, we were going to wait until your Auntie Julie got off work so she could look after Reg overnight. That was not what actually happened as my contractions were coming too close together so Jenny, our teen babysitter, came over until Julie could get to the townhouse in Lawndale. I was in quite a bit of pain on the ten to fifteen minute ride to South Bay Hospital. I remember that part. When we arrived at the hospital we must have been checked in and I was put in a wheelchair and we went up to the Obstetrics floor. The nurse greeted us and took us to a close-by room. Dad asked if we could be in Room 222 instead because that is where Reg was born. The nurse said she would be glad to have the extra exercise. I guess Room 222 was down at the end of the hall. It wasn't very busy that evening.
We had decided that I would stand and walk during labor so that is what we did. Near the end, or the beginning, I didn't want to walk anymore and I just stood and clung to your dad. The nurse had a very hard time convincing me to lie down so she could see how dilated I was. After some coercing I lay down and I guess your head was visible. The nurse had been a midwife in Britain so I'm sure she was capable of delivering you, but they paged the doctor (who happened to be my doctor's wife) to come RIGHT AWAY. She must have been eating dinner as she walked in with her plate in hand (probably thinking she'd finish her dinner), took one look, said "Push" and there you were. One push! We were so excited that we had our girl. I think we both expected you to be a girl. Not sure why.
Monday, December 23, 2013
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Saturday, December 14, 2013
Books that provoke thought: Tiny Beautiful Things
I feel provoked by an entry I read in the book 'Tiny Beautiful Things' by Cheryl Strayed. It is a collection of questions asked when Mrs.Strayed wrote an advice column before she wrote the book 'Wild'. I highly recommend the book, as it is extremely thought provoking and the questions asked are fascinating challenges to give yourself. It has even inspired a blog entry at 3 in the morning.
For a few years, I denied to myself/didn't have the ability to recognize that I had a problem with sex. It is common, I've heard, but that has failed to be reassuring due to the fact that I have had very little positive forward-thinking open discussions about it. So here I am attempting one so as not to feel so alone and lost in my black hole.
I have a hard time identifying whether or not I'm 'supposed to' have sex with someone. When is the right time? I've had a variety of experiences, many of them leaving me conflicted. The sexual experience itself may have been a positive one, but the behavior afterwards can leave me feeling worthless. I guess that is part of the sexual experience.
My body wants, it desires, and sometimes it tells me that I cannot control it. I've learned over time to (mostly) avoid the situations and the substances that allow my body to take control, but I am left with new problems concerning my persistent desire: anxiety and shame. Anxiety that I will make the wrong choices concerning a sexual partner and shame that I am not appealing enough to get my desires fulfilled. I am aware of the mindset that we must fulfill our own desires, but am not yet able to embodying this belief. I feel like there is something wrong with me.
I know that we can't give in to every craving or desire we have. When it comes to food I often lack self-control. I have the experience of craving something and then once I posses it and taste it, I realize that I do not actually want it anymore. But out of shame for giving in, I consume it quickly to hide the evidence of my transgression. It is a pattern I have begun to recognize in myself.
There are times when I wish I could turn off my desire forever so that it will no longer be a problem. And other times where I experience a few days without it and I feel angry with myself for being such a dud. All these feelings are so real despite being contradictory.
Do I just lack the ability to be satisfied with what's occurring? Am I being too judgmental of myself? Will sex EVER stop being a problem that I need to solve?
I have had boyfriends before, but because of my transient lifestyle, have not had an opportunity to see if any of the relationships would last. I live in fear that I will end up alone. My logical brain wants to tell me a few things about this fear. 1) It's not the end of the world to be 'alone'. 2) The chances of that are relatively low (I can hear my mother's voice saying this in my head). 3) There are more important things to use your brain-power on than worrying about whether or not you'll be in a relationship in the future (I can hear the feminist saying this in my head).
I know that my brain focuses on these things due to insecurity and low self-esteem. This is a life long battle which I have only begun. Everyday I am challenged. I see improvement, but sometimes I am so busy berating myself for not doing 'good enough' that I forget to acknowledge any improvement.
Just another day, another fight, another success.
For a few years, I denied to myself/didn't have the ability to recognize that I had a problem with sex. It is common, I've heard, but that has failed to be reassuring due to the fact that I have had very little positive forward-thinking open discussions about it. So here I am attempting one so as not to feel so alone and lost in my black hole.
I have a hard time identifying whether or not I'm 'supposed to' have sex with someone. When is the right time? I've had a variety of experiences, many of them leaving me conflicted. The sexual experience itself may have been a positive one, but the behavior afterwards can leave me feeling worthless. I guess that is part of the sexual experience.
My body wants, it desires, and sometimes it tells me that I cannot control it. I've learned over time to (mostly) avoid the situations and the substances that allow my body to take control, but I am left with new problems concerning my persistent desire: anxiety and shame. Anxiety that I will make the wrong choices concerning a sexual partner and shame that I am not appealing enough to get my desires fulfilled. I am aware of the mindset that we must fulfill our own desires, but am not yet able to embodying this belief. I feel like there is something wrong with me.
I know that we can't give in to every craving or desire we have. When it comes to food I often lack self-control. I have the experience of craving something and then once I posses it and taste it, I realize that I do not actually want it anymore. But out of shame for giving in, I consume it quickly to hide the evidence of my transgression. It is a pattern I have begun to recognize in myself.
There are times when I wish I could turn off my desire forever so that it will no longer be a problem. And other times where I experience a few days without it and I feel angry with myself for being such a dud. All these feelings are so real despite being contradictory.
Do I just lack the ability to be satisfied with what's occurring? Am I being too judgmental of myself? Will sex EVER stop being a problem that I need to solve?
I have had boyfriends before, but because of my transient lifestyle, have not had an opportunity to see if any of the relationships would last. I live in fear that I will end up alone. My logical brain wants to tell me a few things about this fear. 1) It's not the end of the world to be 'alone'. 2) The chances of that are relatively low (I can hear my mother's voice saying this in my head). 3) There are more important things to use your brain-power on than worrying about whether or not you'll be in a relationship in the future (I can hear the feminist saying this in my head).
I know that my brain focuses on these things due to insecurity and low self-esteem. This is a life long battle which I have only begun. Everyday I am challenged. I see improvement, but sometimes I am so busy berating myself for not doing 'good enough' that I forget to acknowledge any improvement.
Just another day, another fight, another success.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Life is Better with a Little Music
I've been thinking a lot about music. I've decided to commit myself to it more than I ever have before. I play every day. I take my uke everywhere I go. I've started giving impromptu performances on the bus, on the sidewalk, to my family. I have callouses on three of my fingers which I cherish and bragged to my mother about. I even played so much that I had to try to learn how to play upside-down because it hurt my back and wrist.
I've obsessed about things in my life: boys, boys, boys, how to get on with life when dealing with stressful circumstances such as moving somewhere new. Playing music engages my mind so that my obsessive thoughts aren't able to take over. It interrupts them. And singing just naturally regulates my breath so that I become relaxed after a few minutes. Strumming the ukulele forces my body to move to a rhythm, like dancing, which also brings relaxation. I get a lot of satisfaction after learning a new song, I've just memorized a song entirely in Hawaiian and it's wonderful to sing in another language.
I've come to discover a new perspective in my music since filling my life with it. Initially I was concerned with sounding good, but now I'm concerned with engaging in the music itself. I don't want to sound "good". I want to sound real. I want to be able to transmit emotion and to connect with individuals. I want to touch people. Not everyone, not all the time, it's just that: life is better with a little music.
I've obsessed about things in my life: boys, boys, boys, how to get on with life when dealing with stressful circumstances such as moving somewhere new. Playing music engages my mind so that my obsessive thoughts aren't able to take over. It interrupts them. And singing just naturally regulates my breath so that I become relaxed after a few minutes. Strumming the ukulele forces my body to move to a rhythm, like dancing, which also brings relaxation. I get a lot of satisfaction after learning a new song, I've just memorized a song entirely in Hawaiian and it's wonderful to sing in another language.
I've come to discover a new perspective in my music since filling my life with it. Initially I was concerned with sounding good, but now I'm concerned with engaging in the music itself. I don't want to sound "good". I want to sound real. I want to be able to transmit emotion and to connect with individuals. I want to touch people. Not everyone, not all the time, it's just that: life is better with a little music.
Saturday, December 7, 2013
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Sunday, December 1, 2013
The Future
The future
is a place
in our minds.
A creative
and scary
and endless
potential.
Plans are made
and kept
or broken.
Relationships are formed
and build upon
or blow away
in the endlessness.
Nothing is certain.
All that is left to do...
is sing
is a place
in our minds.
A creative
and scary
and endless
potential.
Plans are made
and kept
or broken.
Relationships are formed
and build upon
or blow away
in the endlessness.
Nothing is certain.
All that is left to do...
is sing
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