I have a confession to make. I realized the other day that I was unusually angry. I mean, all the time angry. And this scared me. I'll admit, I've used PMS as an excuse for being angry before. And it's true, when my hormones are going BLASDFKJLK;ASDFK, I do get angrier quicker. But I realized I had been this crazy bitch-psycho-lady for about an entire month. And that's not PMS. So I made a pact with myself, and my boyfriend, that I would work on being happier. Not forced happy--that's no good. But I mean, not letting the little things bother me. I realized that a pair of shoes being crooked or in the wrong spot would send me over the edge.
And that's not normal.
So I started letting things slide. It's a fine line - I don't want to lower my expectations and let my boyfriend/friends get away with walking all over me. But at the same time, not every little thing that everyone says has to send me to the point of wanting to jump off a cliff with 100 lb weights attached to my arms and legs.
Alright. That worked. For a day and a half. That's nice. And it's still kind of working, though I also feel the anger brewing. During my time of being happy, I had some time to consider what a relationship should be like. I shared my anger issues with my boyfriend because I trusted him to do a few things. I trusted him to a) not judge me, b) provide me with the support I need to try to be happy and c) be extra understanding while I work through these issues. But I mean, that should happen naturally, right?
So I started thinking about what people expect from a relationship, and why people get themselves into relationships. I mean, it's counter-intuitive, right? You finally get to a point when you're thinking, okay, here I am. I can take care of myself, I'm free from my parents and other authority figures, and now I'm going to...submit myself to another person on whom I will invariably spend money, and to whom I will invariably have to account for my whereabouts, at least some of the time. Someone who will call on me in a time of trouble and whom I will have to support, either emotionally, physically, or financially (likely a combination of the three).
WHY DO WE DO THIS?!
Companionship. Love. Those were my first two thoughts. And then, to feel important. It's human nature, to my understanding, to want to feel significant. Like we matter to someone. And in a universe as large as ours, with so many "bigger things" going on, it's really easy to want to be everything to "one" person. Okay, maybe I can't be everything to everyone, but I can at least be everything to one person, and this will make me happy. And if that works out for a while, and we want to have a kid, then I can be everything to two people. Until the kid grows up. Then it's back to one. But do you follow my train of thought here? We throw away a lot of our own stability and independence to be with someone else, trusting that they will provide an adequate blend of companionship, love, and meaning, and if that doesn't work, TO THE CURB WITH YOU.
Yep.
So I've been thinking lately as to how to tell when a relationship is "good" or "bad." And my first conclusion was to take sex out of the equation. Is it necessary for a healthy relationship? Yes. Should it be a deciding factor as to whether or not the relationship is good? No. Sex is like the icing on the cake. I'm talking about judging emotions, here. So I've come to the conclusion that, if you can live for a full three days on your own, without your significant other around, and retain the same amount of happiness/contentedness/companionship (with friends/family/etc), and overall feel just as good when they're not around, it's not a relationship worth saving. And that probably sounds a little harsh. But honestly, if you're not looking forward to coming home to them every day, then what ARE you looking forward to? If you're looking forward to seeing the Starbucks guy everyday more than you're looking forward to seeing your SO, then you have a problem. (Okay, bad example, the Starbucks guy gives me free coffee. Sometimes. But still!) A relationship has to be something you want. It has to be something that you're always excited about and happy with -- not just occasionally. It has to be the highlight of your day - every day. Otherwise, you're letting things impede your chance to bond with someone with whom you claim to want to spend a significant amount of time.
And it's hard to recognize this. I can probably talk my brain in and out of this about 50 times per day. But after a period of evaluation, you have to be honest with yourself, and ask yourself those big questions. Is this what I want? Is this fair and equal to both people? Am I getting what I want, and am I giving him (or her) what he (she) wants? If not, then you have a few options, only two of which are good. You can talk about it and try to mend things up (this is a good one - this can work, but isn't guaranteed), you can break up (this is also good - if things aren't working, you're better off apart), or you can ignore the problem, and not say anything at all to your SO (this is bad - this will inevitably create an even deeper schism and eventually things will become irreparable).
So I did some honest thinking, and we talked. I'm trying to mend things, at least on my part. I want to feel important, and meaningful - two things that I don't always feel, and that oftentimes lead me to question, like I was. I think that's why I was expressing my anger in such a negative way. I was trying to sort through things, and my brain saw things that I didn't want to see. I didn't want to see the fact that I feel like I could be a fly on the wall, and disappear for a week and no one would care. I didn't want to see that sharing is nearly out of the equation, that material things are kept track of to such a degree. I didn't want to see that our relationship isn't as strong as a past relationship - despite the fact our relationship is still relatively new, and hasn't had enough time to withstand certain tests. I didn't want to see any of these things that pointed to the possibility that our relationship wasn't good -- because I want it to be good to such a degree -- so instead of confronting my issues....
I got mad.
FOR A MONTH.
That's crazy. But, at least I finally realized what I was doing. I realized it, and I tried to catch it, hopefully before it's "too late." And I'm working on it. And, hopefully, I have support in working on this, from my boyfriend, friends, and so on. Because honestly, being angry for an entire month is exhausting.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Videogames and attention-seeking.
I figured this would be a timely post, since Borderlands 2 was released today (at midnight this morning) and several of my friends were all enthusiastic about it.
My response? Big. Fucking. Deal.
I guess my response now is a little bit bigger than "big deal." It didn't have to be, but because of something a certain someone said to me this morning, I'm all riled up about it.
Actually, two certain someones.
I'm dating a wonderful guy. I think. It's funny to say that I don't know him as well as I'd like to - I mean hell, we live together - but I find that he "hides" certain things from me. And not simple things, like having to fart (and inconspicuously stepping outside), but big ticket items, like feelings, wishes and desires.
And guess what? It hurts.
After all the learning I've done, and all the progress I've made towards being a good communicator, I felt like someone was driving a steel knife through my heart when he said he wasn't comfortable telling me things, because either a) I'm in a bad mood or b) he's worried what he's about to say will put me in a bad mood. I try to be very clear about my wants and desires. I try to communicate as best as I can, and I'm blatantly honest and open. Sometimes it takes me a little bit to open up, and I'll admit I am a very good liar when I want to be one, but I consistently try to be as honest as possible (even blunt) with the people I care about the most. Which is why it's so upsetting to me that the person who should be nearing #1 in my life feels like he can't talk to me. Ouch.
Anyways, that's not really what this is about. I deduced through my superb deduction skills (ha ha) that something was wrong. I had tried asking my lovely bf several days prior what he thought about our relationship and he said that he didn't think about it much and when he did it was alright. But finally, FINALLY last night I talked to him about being nervous/uncomfortable that he wasn't doing anything by himself, things that he enjoys that I probably don't.
Which brings us right down to it. Videogames.
After having dated/lived with/been with a videogamer for about 14 months, I am pretty used to being ignored in favor of games. Which is exactly what my NEW bf was trying not to do. But what he was doing instead was spending nearly every second of his time with me. Which can get old. Really. I know. I don't like being around me all the time either. So I was surprised that my new bf decided to spend so. much. time. with me. Honestly, it was fantastic. And, ideal. And, it had to come to an end. Because how could he possibly be enjoying himself if every second of his time was spend around me?
Believe it or not, despite the fact that I love being around people, I realize that the world does not revolve around me, and that it's silly to expect people to want to be with me constantly. My ex taught me this very well. Too well, maybe, but that's another story. So I'm used to doing stuff on my own. Although I love the attention, it's not necessary and I know it.
So last night we had a very long, seemingly productive talk about balance. I want to spend time with him, obviously, but I don't want him to sacrifice his wants and desires just to keep me happy. Because, believe it or not, the sole purpose of a relationship is not for the man to keep the woman happy (despite your preconceived notions there). And we agreed that it is absolutely fine, and natural to do things separately. Because sometimes our time is just better spent doing what we want. And I'm not going to play videogames with him (most likely), and he's not going to do... hmm. something that I like to do (drawing a blank!) with me!
Obviously, my main goal was to let him know that it's okay that he not sit at my side at all times. (I have a dog that does that already.) I may not proclaim to like my "alone" time, but somehow I always occupy it and it comes out okay.
Which leads me to today. After having figured all this out, I felt better. I felt like I got it out of the way just in time for the release of this "big" (ha ha) game today. That is, until our walk to work this morning (well, my work, the el for him). The conversation went like this:
D: Are you mentally prepared for Borderlands 2?
Me: Um. Why would I need to be mentally prepared for Borderlands 2?
D: Because I'll be playing it when I get home from work today.
Now, after this whole long talk, which I had to initiate, so that he will have free time for himself, does this honestly seem kosher? I mean, should this be a warning to me? Is it going to be, "Hey baby, I spent all my time with you the past three weeks, now I'm going to ignore you for the next three while I beat this game"?! Honestly? Mentally prepared? I HAD TO TELL YOU THAT I DON'T NEED ALL THIS ATTENTION! The real question is, is he mentally prepared to NOT spend his night with me?
I thought that comment was pretty out of line. Maybe he just didn't think it through well enough.
At any rate, I think the most important thing to me is that we go to bed together. That sounds dumb, but it's always been a big deal, for a few reasons:
1. If he comes to bed later than me, he'll wake me up. Chances are, I'll have to get up to pee, and then I'll spend a long time trying to fall back to sleep.
2. I really enjoy the bonding that comes with the act of turning back the covers, climbing in, cuddling up, and falling asleep next to someone. That's something that I want to happen all the time. Every night.
3. (Now, not so much before) He'll keep my dog up if he stays up to game. As in, the dog's crate is about 5 feet from his computer. And I really don't want my dog to have a bad night. The dog didn't do anything wrong.
So, today's the test. We'll see how tonight goes. Honestly, I anticipate him pretty much playing straight through and not going to bed with me. And then the dog will start to cry. Which either means he'll keep the dog up late (which may result in physical pain, and it won't be inflicted on my dog), or come to bed begrudgingly (which is less than ideal, but better than a crying dog). What would be semi-ok is if he plays all the way until bed, and still comes (willingly) to bed with me. What would be lovely is if he played for a few hours (we only have 5-6 between work and bed) and then spent a couple hours with me. Not necessarily 50/50 but you get the idea.
I just hope that this is nothing life ruining. I still don't understand the complete and utter excitement over a game, playing it "all the way through" as fast as you can, and so on. The appeal is completely lost on me.
I just hope this turns out for the best.
My response? Big. Fucking. Deal.
I guess my response now is a little bit bigger than "big deal." It didn't have to be, but because of something a certain someone said to me this morning, I'm all riled up about it.
Actually, two certain someones.
I'm dating a wonderful guy. I think. It's funny to say that I don't know him as well as I'd like to - I mean hell, we live together - but I find that he "hides" certain things from me. And not simple things, like having to fart (and inconspicuously stepping outside), but big ticket items, like feelings, wishes and desires.
And guess what? It hurts.
After all the learning I've done, and all the progress I've made towards being a good communicator, I felt like someone was driving a steel knife through my heart when he said he wasn't comfortable telling me things, because either a) I'm in a bad mood or b) he's worried what he's about to say will put me in a bad mood. I try to be very clear about my wants and desires. I try to communicate as best as I can, and I'm blatantly honest and open. Sometimes it takes me a little bit to open up, and I'll admit I am a very good liar when I want to be one, but I consistently try to be as honest as possible (even blunt) with the people I care about the most. Which is why it's so upsetting to me that the person who should be nearing #1 in my life feels like he can't talk to me. Ouch.
Anyways, that's not really what this is about. I deduced through my superb deduction skills (ha ha) that something was wrong. I had tried asking my lovely bf several days prior what he thought about our relationship and he said that he didn't think about it much and when he did it was alright. But finally, FINALLY last night I talked to him about being nervous/uncomfortable that he wasn't doing anything by himself, things that he enjoys that I probably don't.
Which brings us right down to it. Videogames.
After having dated/lived with/been with a videogamer for about 14 months, I am pretty used to being ignored in favor of games. Which is exactly what my NEW bf was trying not to do. But what he was doing instead was spending nearly every second of his time with me. Which can get old. Really. I know. I don't like being around me all the time either. So I was surprised that my new bf decided to spend so. much. time. with me. Honestly, it was fantastic. And, ideal. And, it had to come to an end. Because how could he possibly be enjoying himself if every second of his time was spend around me?
Believe it or not, despite the fact that I love being around people, I realize that the world does not revolve around me, and that it's silly to expect people to want to be with me constantly. My ex taught me this very well. Too well, maybe, but that's another story. So I'm used to doing stuff on my own. Although I love the attention, it's not necessary and I know it.
So last night we had a very long, seemingly productive talk about balance. I want to spend time with him, obviously, but I don't want him to sacrifice his wants and desires just to keep me happy. Because, believe it or not, the sole purpose of a relationship is not for the man to keep the woman happy (despite your preconceived notions there). And we agreed that it is absolutely fine, and natural to do things separately. Because sometimes our time is just better spent doing what we want. And I'm not going to play videogames with him (most likely), and he's not going to do... hmm. something that I like to do (drawing a blank!) with me!
Obviously, my main goal was to let him know that it's okay that he not sit at my side at all times. (I have a dog that does that already.) I may not proclaim to like my "alone" time, but somehow I always occupy it and it comes out okay.
Which leads me to today. After having figured all this out, I felt better. I felt like I got it out of the way just in time for the release of this "big" (ha ha) game today. That is, until our walk to work this morning (well, my work, the el for him). The conversation went like this:
D: Are you mentally prepared for Borderlands 2?
Me: Um. Why would I need to be mentally prepared for Borderlands 2?
D: Because I'll be playing it when I get home from work today.
Now, after this whole long talk, which I had to initiate, so that he will have free time for himself, does this honestly seem kosher? I mean, should this be a warning to me? Is it going to be, "Hey baby, I spent all my time with you the past three weeks, now I'm going to ignore you for the next three while I beat this game"?! Honestly? Mentally prepared? I HAD TO TELL YOU THAT I DON'T NEED ALL THIS ATTENTION! The real question is, is he mentally prepared to NOT spend his night with me?
I thought that comment was pretty out of line. Maybe he just didn't think it through well enough.
At any rate, I think the most important thing to me is that we go to bed together. That sounds dumb, but it's always been a big deal, for a few reasons:
1. If he comes to bed later than me, he'll wake me up. Chances are, I'll have to get up to pee, and then I'll spend a long time trying to fall back to sleep.
2. I really enjoy the bonding that comes with the act of turning back the covers, climbing in, cuddling up, and falling asleep next to someone. That's something that I want to happen all the time. Every night.
3. (Now, not so much before) He'll keep my dog up if he stays up to game. As in, the dog's crate is about 5 feet from his computer. And I really don't want my dog to have a bad night. The dog didn't do anything wrong.
So, today's the test. We'll see how tonight goes. Honestly, I anticipate him pretty much playing straight through and not going to bed with me. And then the dog will start to cry. Which either means he'll keep the dog up late (which may result in physical pain, and it won't be inflicted on my dog), or come to bed begrudgingly (which is less than ideal, but better than a crying dog). What would be semi-ok is if he plays all the way until bed, and still comes (willingly) to bed with me. What would be lovely is if he played for a few hours (we only have 5-6 between work and bed) and then spent a couple hours with me. Not necessarily 50/50 but you get the idea.
I just hope that this is nothing life ruining. I still don't understand the complete and utter excitement over a game, playing it "all the way through" as fast as you can, and so on. The appeal is completely lost on me.
I just hope this turns out for the best.
Friday, July 20, 2012
A reflection on moving away from the past.
They say, "Don't always seem to go, that you don't know what you got, til it's gone."
What an insightful phrase. Catchy, even. Too bad it's not true.
I contend that you always know what you have. Most of this knowledge is even conscious. The difference comes in perspective, in whether or not you can accept what you have, and be content with it. It would be very hard to argue that a person does not "know" what he possesses, material-wise, relationship-wise, or otherwise. As a cognitively aware person, and giving others a general benefit of the doubt, I would venture so far as to say everyone knows what they have. Whether or not they can be happy with what they have, at any particular moment in time, is a different story.
Allow me to back up a little bit. Right now I am packing up, getting ready to move from Rogers Park to Bucktown. For those of you familiar with the city and its neighborhoods, that's quite the change. A lot of other changes have occurred recently as well; I graduated college, started working full time, and as of now, I am as close to financial independence as I may ever be. My life is progressing, it's moving on. And as it does, I find myself having to leave a few things, physical and emotional, behind.
I threw away my futon the other day. My freshman year of college, I bought a crazy royal blue futon for my dorm. It's traveled with me from place to place throughout my four years of college. My brother slept on that futon, ex boyfriends have slept on that futon, my roommate's friends have slept on that futon. Movies were watched from that futon, and card games were played while sitting on that futon. One of my drunkest nights was spent, at least originally, on that futon. And so, I suppose the futon was more than "just" a physical piece of crap, it housed many memories, most of them good, from the last four years. But, as is expected and, I would argue, necessary, it's time for me to move on. I carried the frame and the mattress of the futon down to the dumpster, and the next day the garbage collectors had taken it away.
Many other things that seemed so crucial to my college experience are also leaving me. I threw away many of my notes/tests/quizzes from classes I took the past four years. Nearly all of my textbooks have been sold back to the bookstore, save a few teaching texts I'd like to hold on to for a bit longer. My email with Loyola remains relatively unchecked, as opposed to when I was still in school, and would check it multiple times per day for updates from professors, counselors, employers, and the like.
And, one of the hardest things to give up was my relationship with AJ. I had spent the last 14 months, 25% of my college career, building (what I assumed to be) a fortified relationship with someone I truly care about. He became everything to me--an integral part of my life, even more so than all of the above mentioned things. As opposed to a thing, he was a person, obviously, and held in store so much more for me than I ever could have expected from a futon or an email. However, in late June, I made the choice to leave him behind, as well.
This choice did not come without many repercussions. We had established a life together. It was no longer "AJ and me," it was "we." We did nearly everything together, despite the sacrifices. We relied on each other, and somehow built a mutual dependency upon each other. We had plans to move in together, find full time jobs so we could support an adult lifestyle, and enjoy being young and in love. That all came crashing down for me when I was scanning in our paperwork to apply for a new apartment. I realized that, as great as things had been, there were bad times, too. And I didn't know if I could handle "signing up" for another 12-24 months of that. Being with AJ was everything I wanted at the time, or at least that's what I had convinced myself. But when push came to shove, I realized I wanted something...different. My 'in-love' feelings had escaped me; although there is still a strong sense of friendship and loyalty, nearly all romantic feelings for him had left my mind.
Things have been crazy since AJ and I split up. Just like I have a new couch lined up, a new (work) email to replace my college email, I also started seeing someone new. He's great, and I can see myself being with him for a long period of time. However, I can't help remember, just like I'll look back at those memories of my obnoxiously blue futon, or remember obsessively checking my Loyola email 20 times per day, I will also often recall all of the memories I made with AJ. 14 months doesn't seem to long to someone who's lived, say, 50 or more years. But when you're 21, that's about 5% of your life, and roughly 25% (or more) of your "serious dating" life. That's a lot of time to commit, and a lot to give up in a brief period. Those fond memories won't leave anytime soon. They've simply earned themselves a place in my cognitive scrapbook, to be revisited now and again, and respected with all that I have.
So, no, I don't think that I "know now" what I had, because it's gone. I knew what I had when I had it, and for a long time, I made myself believe it was great; it was exactly what I wanted. Just like the futon was exactly what I wanted. But people grow and move on. I will miss my futon, my old email, AJ...all come with such strong, powerful memories of my past. In a way, I suppose one could say all of those things shaped me into the woman I am today. I was lucky enough to value what I had when I had it, and now I can look back and appreciate what I had, even though it's gone. It's not "not knowing," it's being aware and appreciative. And for that, I undyingly am.
What an insightful phrase. Catchy, even. Too bad it's not true.
I contend that you always know what you have. Most of this knowledge is even conscious. The difference comes in perspective, in whether or not you can accept what you have, and be content with it. It would be very hard to argue that a person does not "know" what he possesses, material-wise, relationship-wise, or otherwise. As a cognitively aware person, and giving others a general benefit of the doubt, I would venture so far as to say everyone knows what they have. Whether or not they can be happy with what they have, at any particular moment in time, is a different story.
Allow me to back up a little bit. Right now I am packing up, getting ready to move from Rogers Park to Bucktown. For those of you familiar with the city and its neighborhoods, that's quite the change. A lot of other changes have occurred recently as well; I graduated college, started working full time, and as of now, I am as close to financial independence as I may ever be. My life is progressing, it's moving on. And as it does, I find myself having to leave a few things, physical and emotional, behind.
I threw away my futon the other day. My freshman year of college, I bought a crazy royal blue futon for my dorm. It's traveled with me from place to place throughout my four years of college. My brother slept on that futon, ex boyfriends have slept on that futon, my roommate's friends have slept on that futon. Movies were watched from that futon, and card games were played while sitting on that futon. One of my drunkest nights was spent, at least originally, on that futon. And so, I suppose the futon was more than "just" a physical piece of crap, it housed many memories, most of them good, from the last four years. But, as is expected and, I would argue, necessary, it's time for me to move on. I carried the frame and the mattress of the futon down to the dumpster, and the next day the garbage collectors had taken it away.
Many other things that seemed so crucial to my college experience are also leaving me. I threw away many of my notes/tests/quizzes from classes I took the past four years. Nearly all of my textbooks have been sold back to the bookstore, save a few teaching texts I'd like to hold on to for a bit longer. My email with Loyola remains relatively unchecked, as opposed to when I was still in school, and would check it multiple times per day for updates from professors, counselors, employers, and the like.
And, one of the hardest things to give up was my relationship with AJ. I had spent the last 14 months, 25% of my college career, building (what I assumed to be) a fortified relationship with someone I truly care about. He became everything to me--an integral part of my life, even more so than all of the above mentioned things. As opposed to a thing, he was a person, obviously, and held in store so much more for me than I ever could have expected from a futon or an email. However, in late June, I made the choice to leave him behind, as well.
This choice did not come without many repercussions. We had established a life together. It was no longer "AJ and me," it was "we." We did nearly everything together, despite the sacrifices. We relied on each other, and somehow built a mutual dependency upon each other. We had plans to move in together, find full time jobs so we could support an adult lifestyle, and enjoy being young and in love. That all came crashing down for me when I was scanning in our paperwork to apply for a new apartment. I realized that, as great as things had been, there were bad times, too. And I didn't know if I could handle "signing up" for another 12-24 months of that. Being with AJ was everything I wanted at the time, or at least that's what I had convinced myself. But when push came to shove, I realized I wanted something...different. My 'in-love' feelings had escaped me; although there is still a strong sense of friendship and loyalty, nearly all romantic feelings for him had left my mind.
Things have been crazy since AJ and I split up. Just like I have a new couch lined up, a new (work) email to replace my college email, I also started seeing someone new. He's great, and I can see myself being with him for a long period of time. However, I can't help remember, just like I'll look back at those memories of my obnoxiously blue futon, or remember obsessively checking my Loyola email 20 times per day, I will also often recall all of the memories I made with AJ. 14 months doesn't seem to long to someone who's lived, say, 50 or more years. But when you're 21, that's about 5% of your life, and roughly 25% (or more) of your "serious dating" life. That's a lot of time to commit, and a lot to give up in a brief period. Those fond memories won't leave anytime soon. They've simply earned themselves a place in my cognitive scrapbook, to be revisited now and again, and respected with all that I have.
So, no, I don't think that I "know now" what I had, because it's gone. I knew what I had when I had it, and for a long time, I made myself believe it was great; it was exactly what I wanted. Just like the futon was exactly what I wanted. But people grow and move on. I will miss my futon, my old email, AJ...all come with such strong, powerful memories of my past. In a way, I suppose one could say all of those things shaped me into the woman I am today. I was lucky enough to value what I had when I had it, and now I can look back and appreciate what I had, even though it's gone. It's not "not knowing," it's being aware and appreciative. And for that, I undyingly am.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Growing up.
Wow.
So much has changed in just a few short months. Upon finishing up my student teaching last Monday, I feel even more "grown up," another step closer to entering the "real world" and getting a job. I have a few feelings on that, but wasn't really able to properly order them until today. I was watching Glee (ok, laugh...), and one of the main characters was talking about how growing up is all about loss. It seems you have everything when you're young, and growing up is all about losing those few things. I mean come on, who hasn't heard about "losing your innocence," right? I think this has a deeper meaning though, and I appreciate you taking a moment to think with me.
A few things I've lost in the past few months/years:
-financial support from my parents (for the most part). I feed and clothe myself, and pay my own rent.
-friends. I left a ton of friends behind after graduating high school, and leave behind more each semester in college. Although some stick around, friends seem to be fairly transient these days, for what it's worth.
-health. Each day I get older, and I am in worse health. I mean, generally, this is true for all people...as we grow old, our health declines; usually this results in our death. I think I decline a little more quickly than most, so this is certainly worth mentioning for me.
-the ease of obtaining A's in classes. This used to be so simple in grade school and high school. Now, I work diligently for every grade I receive, and even then sometimes I don't see the results I think I should.
And now, for the most recent thing I've lost...my students.
In August, I stepped into a fifth grade classroom, expecting a pretty normal experience. What I gained is knowledge and experience that has proved to be life-changing. I will never view education in the same way.
A big part of life includes change, but have you ever gone through something that left you entirely different than when you began? This is my student teaching experience.
I started out viewing student teaching as a learning experience; very quickly, my mind changed and it became a challenge that I accepted and needed to complete. Every day was intense and required an inordinate amount of preparation. I quickly learned that there is no "sleeping on the job" in teaching--in order to be a successful teacher, you have to be on your best game every day. Your students don't accept "I didn't have time to get everything ready" as an excuse...if you're unprepared, they can tell, and will take advantage of you. So, the first part of the challenge was learning to be prepared for anything and everything, and most of all, being prepared to teach.
But what happens when what you're teaching is above what your students know? This happened to me not too far into the semester--I was teaching something related to probability, and assumed my students knew how to deal with fractions.
Was I ever wrong.
The second part of the challenge was learning that you always need a backup plan, you need to be flexible, and not unwilling to take a step back and quickly re-evaluate the situation. I didn't know what to do when my students stared at me incredulously when I brought up fractions. I looked at my teacher, as if to say, "What now?" Incredibly enough...she didn't help me. She let me stand there for a few moments, and I could feel myself sinking. I wanted to melt into a puddle on the ground and run down the sewer. How could I not be ready to back up and meet my students' needs? Now I know better how to analyze what I'm teaching from an objective standpoint; I'm always ready with extra resources in order to address situations such as these.
The third part of my challenge was learning to take responsibility for my students and their learning. Teaching is a two way street--I teach my students, and they teach me. However, I am primarily responsible for what their classroom experience looks like. In that regard, I learned that I do not have enough time to cover everything so I have to make use of my time in the best way possible with relevant learning experiences.
And the last part of the challenge, possibly the hardest, was figuring out how to say goodbye to the 55 or so young people to whom I became so closely attached during my challenge. Another day, another loss...Some losses are harder to handle than others. This has certainly been one of the hardest goodbyes...I spent more active waking time with my students than nearly anyone else in my life, including my closest friends. I guess Rihanna sums it up best when she sings:
And I know you’re going somewhere to make a better life
I hope that you find it on the first try
And even though it kills me
That you have to go
I know it'll be sadder
If you never hit the road
So farewell!
[Chorus]
Somebody is gonna miss you
Farewell
Somebody is gonna wish that you were here
That somebody is me
And I'm gon' try to hold it all in
Try to hold back my tears
So it don't make you stay here
I'mma try to be a big girl now
Cause I don't wanna be the reason you don't leave
Farewell
[Chorus]
Somebody is gonna miss you
Farewell
Somebody is gonna wish that you were here
Farewell
Somebody is gonna miss you
Farewell
Somebody is gonna wish that you were here
That somebody is me
My students wrote me an entire book thanking me for "everything I'd taught them," and begging me not to go. That definitely made leaving a whole lot more difficult. However, I'm taking this loss as simply another part of growing up. We have to leave what we love when we grow up; this is clear. Sometimes we choose to leave, sometimes we're forced to leave; in the end, we only truly have ourselves and our accomplishments. I'll have another classroom someday, filled with more bright-eyed eager students, but I will never have these fifth graders back. I will never have an experience quite the same as this one. I'll never see things the same as I used to; I'm filled with so much more knowledge and motivation now than I used to be, and this is what's going to drive me to leave, to reach on for "bigger and better" things, despite the loss I feel.
In the end, even if I lose everything, I'll always take these memories on with me, until I breathe my very last breath. They'll continue to haunt me, to guide me, to motivate me and push me to my full potential.
Maybe this isn't a loss, then, in the end. Maybe it's a gain, and I just have to change my perspective to see it.
So much has changed in just a few short months. Upon finishing up my student teaching last Monday, I feel even more "grown up," another step closer to entering the "real world" and getting a job. I have a few feelings on that, but wasn't really able to properly order them until today. I was watching Glee (ok, laugh...), and one of the main characters was talking about how growing up is all about loss. It seems you have everything when you're young, and growing up is all about losing those few things. I mean come on, who hasn't heard about "losing your innocence," right? I think this has a deeper meaning though, and I appreciate you taking a moment to think with me.
A few things I've lost in the past few months/years:
-financial support from my parents (for the most part). I feed and clothe myself, and pay my own rent.
-friends. I left a ton of friends behind after graduating high school, and leave behind more each semester in college. Although some stick around, friends seem to be fairly transient these days, for what it's worth.
-health. Each day I get older, and I am in worse health. I mean, generally, this is true for all people...as we grow old, our health declines; usually this results in our death. I think I decline a little more quickly than most, so this is certainly worth mentioning for me.
-the ease of obtaining A's in classes. This used to be so simple in grade school and high school. Now, I work diligently for every grade I receive, and even then sometimes I don't see the results I think I should.
And now, for the most recent thing I've lost...my students.
In August, I stepped into a fifth grade classroom, expecting a pretty normal experience. What I gained is knowledge and experience that has proved to be life-changing. I will never view education in the same way.
A big part of life includes change, but have you ever gone through something that left you entirely different than when you began? This is my student teaching experience.
I started out viewing student teaching as a learning experience; very quickly, my mind changed and it became a challenge that I accepted and needed to complete. Every day was intense and required an inordinate amount of preparation. I quickly learned that there is no "sleeping on the job" in teaching--in order to be a successful teacher, you have to be on your best game every day. Your students don't accept "I didn't have time to get everything ready" as an excuse...if you're unprepared, they can tell, and will take advantage of you. So, the first part of the challenge was learning to be prepared for anything and everything, and most of all, being prepared to teach.
But what happens when what you're teaching is above what your students know? This happened to me not too far into the semester--I was teaching something related to probability, and assumed my students knew how to deal with fractions.
Was I ever wrong.
The second part of the challenge was learning that you always need a backup plan, you need to be flexible, and not unwilling to take a step back and quickly re-evaluate the situation. I didn't know what to do when my students stared at me incredulously when I brought up fractions. I looked at my teacher, as if to say, "What now?" Incredibly enough...she didn't help me. She let me stand there for a few moments, and I could feel myself sinking. I wanted to melt into a puddle on the ground and run down the sewer. How could I not be ready to back up and meet my students' needs? Now I know better how to analyze what I'm teaching from an objective standpoint; I'm always ready with extra resources in order to address situations such as these.
The third part of my challenge was learning to take responsibility for my students and their learning. Teaching is a two way street--I teach my students, and they teach me. However, I am primarily responsible for what their classroom experience looks like. In that regard, I learned that I do not have enough time to cover everything so I have to make use of my time in the best way possible with relevant learning experiences.
And the last part of the challenge, possibly the hardest, was figuring out how to say goodbye to the 55 or so young people to whom I became so closely attached during my challenge. Another day, another loss...Some losses are harder to handle than others. This has certainly been one of the hardest goodbyes...I spent more active waking time with my students than nearly anyone else in my life, including my closest friends. I guess Rihanna sums it up best when she sings:
And I know you’re going somewhere to make a better life
I hope that you find it on the first try
And even though it kills me
That you have to go
I know it'll be sadder
If you never hit the road
So farewell!
[Chorus]
Somebody is gonna miss you
Farewell
Somebody is gonna wish that you were here
That somebody is me
And I'm gon' try to hold it all in
Try to hold back my tears
So it don't make you stay here
I'mma try to be a big girl now
Cause I don't wanna be the reason you don't leave
Farewell
[Chorus]
Somebody is gonna miss you
Farewell
Somebody is gonna wish that you were here
Farewell
Somebody is gonna miss you
Farewell
Somebody is gonna wish that you were here
That somebody is me
My students wrote me an entire book thanking me for "everything I'd taught them," and begging me not to go. That definitely made leaving a whole lot more difficult. However, I'm taking this loss as simply another part of growing up. We have to leave what we love when we grow up; this is clear. Sometimes we choose to leave, sometimes we're forced to leave; in the end, we only truly have ourselves and our accomplishments. I'll have another classroom someday, filled with more bright-eyed eager students, but I will never have these fifth graders back. I will never have an experience quite the same as this one. I'll never see things the same as I used to; I'm filled with so much more knowledge and motivation now than I used to be, and this is what's going to drive me to leave, to reach on for "bigger and better" things, despite the loss I feel.
In the end, even if I lose everything, I'll always take these memories on with me, until I breathe my very last breath. They'll continue to haunt me, to guide me, to motivate me and push me to my full potential.
Maybe this isn't a loss, then, in the end. Maybe it's a gain, and I just have to change my perspective to see it.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
The art of the "truth."
"Artists use lies to tell the truth. Yes, I create lies, but because you believe them, you find something true in yourself."
I am an artist.
Lately, I've been contemplating the meaning of the truth. I've always seen truth as "reality," or that which exists before my very eyes. I viewed truth from a very objective standpoint, narrow, and for the most part, unchangeable.
I'm seeing more and more how variable truth can be, and how one's perception of the truth can change both the meaning and outcome of the situation entirely. I, for one, try to keep an upbeat and positive attitude in check with everything I do; is it true that I am an optimist? I realize more and more that this is entirely unanswerable, because it is subjective and in subjectivism (if that's a word...) there is little or no truth.
What replaces truth, in a subjective situation, is perception and feeling toward the situation. Through feeling one may find truth; though, not about the situation, only about the feeling.
Go back to the quote there, at the beginning. Few people tell the truth; not because they are liars, but because there is little truth to be had in much of what we do. Truth beams at us through subjects such as math, and to a degree, science; truth shines through proven objects and ideas. However, what about the rest? Consider an opinion; can an opinion be true? I would argue yes and no. Opinion is untrue in that it is not fact; however, an opinion can be true if it accurately reflects the feelings and ideas of the person holding the opinion. Your opinions may not be true for me, nor mine for you. So how do we go on judging truth as though it's a fundamental part of life?
I would say that, for a large part of my life, I've searched for "truth." I've studied math and science in a great search for truth. I've abandoned belief in "God," because religion is not true to me. I've also separated myself from philosophy and unproven theory for the same reason: my inability to find truth.
But why is finding truth so important?
Anything can become a lie, no matter how "true" it may be, if the sayer of the phrase lacks belief in it. A phrase so simple (yet complex) as "I love you" can turn from ultimate truth into one of the most beautiful lies in existence. And, if the audience is to believe the phrase, the lie so to speak, he or she may find truth in themselves. Truth inevitably and invariably becomes an object of perception, then--is this possible? Is it possible to use a lie to tell the truth? Yes, because although I do not perceive something as true, when I share it with you, it may become true for you.
In speaking the "truth," then, it may be more considerable to one's audience to consider the outcome rather than the factual evidence that may or may not back up one's claim. How will the other person perceive the "truth;" will they find it to be true?
I love you, I love you, I love you; if I mean what I say then it is truth to me; if you fail to believe it, then it is false. If, however, I say it without meaning, but you believe it in good faith, then it is true to you but untrue to me. From an outsider's perspective, then, is it true or untrue? Arguably, it is from a subjective standpoint, and there is no room for truth aside from the truth which each of the participants finds in the phrase and moreover the implications of the phrase.
In other words, what is true to me may be untrue to you, and not even a matter of truth to a third party.
Therefore, aside from proven fact, what place does truth have in our lives? I have come so far, at least in my current state, to be able to argue that truth either doesn't exist in the subjective world, or does not matter in many situations, especially those based on perception rather than data. I don't know if I'm right here (what is "right," anyway?), and for one of the first times in my life, I'm enjoying being in this state of contemplation.
Until next time, be an artist. I know I am.
I am an artist.
Lately, I've been contemplating the meaning of the truth. I've always seen truth as "reality," or that which exists before my very eyes. I viewed truth from a very objective standpoint, narrow, and for the most part, unchangeable.
I'm seeing more and more how variable truth can be, and how one's perception of the truth can change both the meaning and outcome of the situation entirely. I, for one, try to keep an upbeat and positive attitude in check with everything I do; is it true that I am an optimist? I realize more and more that this is entirely unanswerable, because it is subjective and in subjectivism (if that's a word...) there is little or no truth.
What replaces truth, in a subjective situation, is perception and feeling toward the situation. Through feeling one may find truth; though, not about the situation, only about the feeling.
Go back to the quote there, at the beginning. Few people tell the truth; not because they are liars, but because there is little truth to be had in much of what we do. Truth beams at us through subjects such as math, and to a degree, science; truth shines through proven objects and ideas. However, what about the rest? Consider an opinion; can an opinion be true? I would argue yes and no. Opinion is untrue in that it is not fact; however, an opinion can be true if it accurately reflects the feelings and ideas of the person holding the opinion. Your opinions may not be true for me, nor mine for you. So how do we go on judging truth as though it's a fundamental part of life?
I would say that, for a large part of my life, I've searched for "truth." I've studied math and science in a great search for truth. I've abandoned belief in "God," because religion is not true to me. I've also separated myself from philosophy and unproven theory for the same reason: my inability to find truth.
But why is finding truth so important?
Anything can become a lie, no matter how "true" it may be, if the sayer of the phrase lacks belief in it. A phrase so simple (yet complex) as "I love you" can turn from ultimate truth into one of the most beautiful lies in existence. And, if the audience is to believe the phrase, the lie so to speak, he or she may find truth in themselves. Truth inevitably and invariably becomes an object of perception, then--is this possible? Is it possible to use a lie to tell the truth? Yes, because although I do not perceive something as true, when I share it with you, it may become true for you.
In speaking the "truth," then, it may be more considerable to one's audience to consider the outcome rather than the factual evidence that may or may not back up one's claim. How will the other person perceive the "truth;" will they find it to be true?
I love you, I love you, I love you; if I mean what I say then it is truth to me; if you fail to believe it, then it is false. If, however, I say it without meaning, but you believe it in good faith, then it is true to you but untrue to me. From an outsider's perspective, then, is it true or untrue? Arguably, it is from a subjective standpoint, and there is no room for truth aside from the truth which each of the participants finds in the phrase and moreover the implications of the phrase.
In other words, what is true to me may be untrue to you, and not even a matter of truth to a third party.
Therefore, aside from proven fact, what place does truth have in our lives? I have come so far, at least in my current state, to be able to argue that truth either doesn't exist in the subjective world, or does not matter in many situations, especially those based on perception rather than data. I don't know if I'm right here (what is "right," anyway?), and for one of the first times in my life, I'm enjoying being in this state of contemplation.
Until next time, be an artist. I know I am.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
And so it began...
Wow, it's been about a month since I've written a blog, and I must admit...I miss it!
Well, I started student teaching, so I thought I'd talk about that a little bit. As if it doesn't already consume my life, right? Ha ha ha. . .
I'm in a fifth grade classroom, and man are they cute! They're so...small! I guess I got super used to working with 6th grade and up--I forgot how small 5th graders are. Another initial impression of my fifth graders are...they are still fairly innocent. The upside: for the most part, they behave really well! The downside: they don't understand sarcasm...at all. Case in point, from today:
Student hand goes up.
Me: Yes?
Student: I have a question.
Me: Sorry, no questions allowed.
Student: Oh. *hangs head*
...
Me: OF course questions are allowed!! Ask away. :)
I'm still not used to the fact that they don't always understand humor--they're a super literal bunch. On the other hand, I love them entirely.
A few things I've accomplished: bulletin boards, grading papers, learning students' names (this is a HUGE deal), and, as of this week, teaching one math class! According to the planning guide, I'll be teaching full days before I know it. I can't begin to express how excited I am for this to happen--to have "total control." Not that teaching is all about control, but I think that the kids will respond a lot better to one consistent teacher instead of (now) having to switch between my coop and me.
The thing I've been most disgusted with since having started student teaching is the following: encountering teachers who hate kids. I mean seriously?! I get the argument of "this is my degree, and changing careers is not possible." Ok, sure, but do you know how many young lives you are RUINING by staying in this profession? I mean honestly. The kids understand that you don't like them. Withholding bathroom privileges is NOT an acceptable punishment. Also, call me oldfashioned, but I believe in RECESS. I need the break too! I just can't believe that teachers go on living their lives in misery (clearly) and making others' lives miserable as well. I'd much rather see a teacher leave the profession to go work a job at McD's than to torture any more students by doing something that they don't want to do (teaching).
I love kids. I can say that to the utmost degree, and without any sense of perversion: I love teaching and I love kids. I love the random stuff they come up with, I love passing on knowledge, I love every single moment of the day: giving and collecting homework (or not), leading a group discussion, planning activities...and most importantly, I love seeing it all come together EVERY day to prove to be effective for the kids. Teaching is like directing an orchestra: if everyone can work together, well, a ton of progress is made. If one person is off, out of tune, or what have you--it can throw off the entire day.
The one thing I want to work on in the near future is not letting the day's events influence my mood to such a degree. My mood from 3pm onward is affected by what occurred between 9AM and 2:45PM. It shouldn't be that way, but it is. I hope to work on that...really soon.
But for now, I need to go grade papers! :)
Peace, y'all. And I promise more (interesting) blogs to come!
Well, I started student teaching, so I thought I'd talk about that a little bit. As if it doesn't already consume my life, right? Ha ha ha. . .
I'm in a fifth grade classroom, and man are they cute! They're so...small! I guess I got super used to working with 6th grade and up--I forgot how small 5th graders are. Another initial impression of my fifth graders are...they are still fairly innocent. The upside: for the most part, they behave really well! The downside: they don't understand sarcasm...at all. Case in point, from today:
Student hand goes up.
Me: Yes?
Student: I have a question.
Me: Sorry, no questions allowed.
Student: Oh. *hangs head*
...
Me: OF course questions are allowed!! Ask away. :)
I'm still not used to the fact that they don't always understand humor--they're a super literal bunch. On the other hand, I love them entirely.
A few things I've accomplished: bulletin boards, grading papers, learning students' names (this is a HUGE deal), and, as of this week, teaching one math class! According to the planning guide, I'll be teaching full days before I know it. I can't begin to express how excited I am for this to happen--to have "total control." Not that teaching is all about control, but I think that the kids will respond a lot better to one consistent teacher instead of (now) having to switch between my coop and me.
The thing I've been most disgusted with since having started student teaching is the following: encountering teachers who hate kids. I mean seriously?! I get the argument of "this is my degree, and changing careers is not possible." Ok, sure, but do you know how many young lives you are RUINING by staying in this profession? I mean honestly. The kids understand that you don't like them. Withholding bathroom privileges is NOT an acceptable punishment. Also, call me oldfashioned, but I believe in RECESS. I need the break too! I just can't believe that teachers go on living their lives in misery (clearly) and making others' lives miserable as well. I'd much rather see a teacher leave the profession to go work a job at McD's than to torture any more students by doing something that they don't want to do (teaching).
I love kids. I can say that to the utmost degree, and without any sense of perversion: I love teaching and I love kids. I love the random stuff they come up with, I love passing on knowledge, I love every single moment of the day: giving and collecting homework (or not), leading a group discussion, planning activities...and most importantly, I love seeing it all come together EVERY day to prove to be effective for the kids. Teaching is like directing an orchestra: if everyone can work together, well, a ton of progress is made. If one person is off, out of tune, or what have you--it can throw off the entire day.
The one thing I want to work on in the near future is not letting the day's events influence my mood to such a degree. My mood from 3pm onward is affected by what occurred between 9AM and 2:45PM. It shouldn't be that way, but it is. I hope to work on that...really soon.
But for now, I need to go grade papers! :)
Peace, y'all. And I promise more (interesting) blogs to come!
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
te amo, te amo.
"Don't it mean I love you? Think it means I love you."
From my short (nearly) 21 years of life, I have seen time and time again those that surround me ask "What is love? Do I really love him/her? How will I know when I truly love someone?"
Though I don't proclaim to be better educated than any with this pondering, I have lately given this idea much thought; I don't think I've come to a new and praise-worthy solution, but I can share what it means to me. It all started making sense after...well, after a progression of time really, since forever ago until several short minutes ago, watching "Mansfield Park," based on a Jane Austen novel. One of the characters states, "There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time." And I think that that sums up what I've been thinking about love--any conclusion I've come to has likely been on the same level of intellect though not expressed nearly as well.
Perhaps it's the way words evade me when it comes to something so important; I can speak clearly, concisely, and professionally about nearly anything: education, money, society, and so on but when someone asks me for my personal feelings towards them, as a person, I often find my tongue and mind to simply not want to cooperate at all, and am left with such nonsense phrases as, "I can't explain it, I just do [love/care for you]!"
This is often inefficient and may have left the other person not believing me whatsoever. And, I don't blame him (or her). But this idea of forms of love--this portrays nearly every thought I've had as of late, and here's how (please note that these do not all describe the same people, or types of love):
I love you when get a text from you, showing that you're using your brain, unlike most highschoolers your age.
I love you when you call me, just to make sure I'm alright.
I love you when you wrap your arms tightly around me.
I love you when complain about work, because you trust me to not judge you based on your opinion of others.
I love you when you say exactly what I'm thinking.
I love you when you say something I can challenge.
I love you when I teach you something new; I also love you when I can learn from you at the same time.
I love you when you take risks for me.
I love you when you look into my eyes, and say nothing.
I love you when you ask me for help, it shows that you think highly of my abilities.
I love you when you take the time to explain what you're thinking; it shows you care about me.
I love you when you tell me I'm beautiful, or gorgeous; I know you never mean (solely) physically.
I love you when you talk about leaving town, and escaping to another state, or even country; it shows me that you have big dreams, and trust me to be able to dream with you.
I love you when you tell me you can't buy my groceries, but will gladly take me grocery shopping with you; it shows me that you value our time together.
I love you when you tell me about being afraid of the future; it shows me that you can depend on me to understand and help in whatever way I can.
I love you when you play me a new song, or recommend a new book; it shows that you want to incorporate me into one of your true loves.
I love you when you play the piano; the improvisation shows you are proud of your talent, and want to share it with me.
I love you when you raise your hand to ask me a question; it shows that you know I'll help you find an answer.
I love you when you call me up late at night; it shows that our old friendship still means to you what it means to me.
I love you when you write me postcards from other states and countries; it shows that, even when away, you're thinking of me.
I love you when I get a message saying, "Morseland tonight?" because it shows I've been incorporated into a strong group of friends with a true bond.
I love you when you kiss me; it tells me that you care much about making me happy as you do being happy.
I love you when I cook you dinner; your appreciation is worth far more than any meal I'll provide you.
I love you when you tell me you don't care that I walk differently, or eat differently, than most people; it shows that you embrace my differences rather than ostracizing me for them.
I love you when you ask my opinion on something, even if it's just clothing, because it shows me that you value my opinion as much as I value yours.
I love you when you tell me I need another surgery, or a new medicine, because it shows that you're trying to preserve my health for as long as possible.
I love you when you talk to me about other girls who are beautiful; it shows that you trust me not to get angry, or jealous. Instead, I learn to respect your opinion; you give me the same in return.
I love you even when you call me with a computer question; though at times it feels as though you're ungrateful, I know you wouldn't feel comfortable calling "just anyone," and it warms my heart to know that you can trust me to be honest and steadfast in helping you.
I love you when you look at me and tell me there is no God, because I believe the same thing, and I revel in the fact that we can bond over this.
I love you when you call me and share your drunken philosophies late at night (or early in the morning), because I have another opportunity to learn more about you.
I love you when you complain about your summer reading; even though you think you're "above" it, I know you'll learn something.
I love you when you text me something so hilariously funny that I have the urge to spit out whatever's in my mouth; it shows me that you know me well enough to know what I'll appreciate, and care about me enough to share it with me.
I love you every day that you don't smoke a cigarette; it shows me that even though you set a bad example for me growing up, you did have the sense to change your ways.
I love you every time you poke me on facebook, because even though we have each moved on to other relationships, it shows that you still think of me as I think of you, and that we can still find some common, communicative ground.
I love you when you tell me you love me; it inspires hope in me that maybe someone realizes love the way in which I have for so long.
So then, what is love? I look at some of the words I use above, and I see: inspire, show, share, teach, learn, opportunity, trust, value, appreciate, bond, friendship...just to name a few. I don't think that love is one thing; rather, love is a combination of some (if not all) of these things. For me, love is not what love is for you. Likewise, for Sally or Tommy or Billy or Jen, love is something entirely different. Love is a moment. And, the people we love the most are those with whom we spend the most loving moments. I'm lucky enough to have a few of those people in my life; though I certainly can't proclaim to spend every single solitary moment loving them, I can say that I spend many moments loving them...inspiring them, trusting them, learning from them, bonding with them, appreciating them, valuing them, sharing with them, showing them (or being shown by them), and so on. Te amo, te amo...it's not one thing. It's many things, and it's amazing.
As I was writing this list and thinking of the people I was describing, it came to my attention that I was not simply describing thoughts. Nor was I simply describing words. Nor was I simply describing actions. I was describing a combination of thoughts, words, and actions, and my reactions to them. As I think about how, when, where, or why I love someone else, I realize that I love each and every person in a different way at a different time. I realize that each person that I love holds a significant place in my life, and I can say that I love each person differently...because there are as many forms of love as there are moments in time, and with each passing moment, I love you in a different way.
From my short (nearly) 21 years of life, I have seen time and time again those that surround me ask "What is love? Do I really love him/her? How will I know when I truly love someone?"
Though I don't proclaim to be better educated than any with this pondering, I have lately given this idea much thought; I don't think I've come to a new and praise-worthy solution, but I can share what it means to me. It all started making sense after...well, after a progression of time really, since forever ago until several short minutes ago, watching "Mansfield Park," based on a Jane Austen novel. One of the characters states, "There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time." And I think that that sums up what I've been thinking about love--any conclusion I've come to has likely been on the same level of intellect though not expressed nearly as well.
Perhaps it's the way words evade me when it comes to something so important; I can speak clearly, concisely, and professionally about nearly anything: education, money, society, and so on but when someone asks me for my personal feelings towards them, as a person, I often find my tongue and mind to simply not want to cooperate at all, and am left with such nonsense phrases as, "I can't explain it, I just do [love/care for you]!"
This is often inefficient and may have left the other person not believing me whatsoever. And, I don't blame him (or her). But this idea of forms of love--this portrays nearly every thought I've had as of late, and here's how (please note that these do not all describe the same people, or types of love):
I love you when get a text from you, showing that you're using your brain, unlike most highschoolers your age.
I love you when you call me, just to make sure I'm alright.
I love you when you wrap your arms tightly around me.
I love you when complain about work, because you trust me to not judge you based on your opinion of others.
I love you when you say exactly what I'm thinking.
I love you when you say something I can challenge.
I love you when I teach you something new; I also love you when I can learn from you at the same time.
I love you when you take risks for me.
I love you when you look into my eyes, and say nothing.
I love you when you ask me for help, it shows that you think highly of my abilities.
I love you when you take the time to explain what you're thinking; it shows you care about me.
I love you when you tell me I'm beautiful, or gorgeous; I know you never mean (solely) physically.
I love you when you talk about leaving town, and escaping to another state, or even country; it shows me that you have big dreams, and trust me to be able to dream with you.
I love you when you tell me you can't buy my groceries, but will gladly take me grocery shopping with you; it shows me that you value our time together.
I love you when you tell me about being afraid of the future; it shows me that you can depend on me to understand and help in whatever way I can.
I love you when you play me a new song, or recommend a new book; it shows that you want to incorporate me into one of your true loves.
I love you when you play the piano; the improvisation shows you are proud of your talent, and want to share it with me.
I love you when you raise your hand to ask me a question; it shows that you know I'll help you find an answer.
I love you when you call me up late at night; it shows that our old friendship still means to you what it means to me.
I love you when you write me postcards from other states and countries; it shows that, even when away, you're thinking of me.
I love you when I get a message saying, "Morseland tonight?" because it shows I've been incorporated into a strong group of friends with a true bond.
I love you when you kiss me; it tells me that you care much about making me happy as you do being happy.
I love you when I cook you dinner; your appreciation is worth far more than any meal I'll provide you.
I love you when you tell me you don't care that I walk differently, or eat differently, than most people; it shows that you embrace my differences rather than ostracizing me for them.
I love you when you ask my opinion on something, even if it's just clothing, because it shows me that you value my opinion as much as I value yours.
I love you when you tell me I need another surgery, or a new medicine, because it shows that you're trying to preserve my health for as long as possible.
I love you when you talk to me about other girls who are beautiful; it shows that you trust me not to get angry, or jealous. Instead, I learn to respect your opinion; you give me the same in return.
I love you even when you call me with a computer question; though at times it feels as though you're ungrateful, I know you wouldn't feel comfortable calling "just anyone," and it warms my heart to know that you can trust me to be honest and steadfast in helping you.
I love you when you look at me and tell me there is no God, because I believe the same thing, and I revel in the fact that we can bond over this.
I love you when you call me and share your drunken philosophies late at night (or early in the morning), because I have another opportunity to learn more about you.
I love you when you complain about your summer reading; even though you think you're "above" it, I know you'll learn something.
I love you when you text me something so hilariously funny that I have the urge to spit out whatever's in my mouth; it shows me that you know me well enough to know what I'll appreciate, and care about me enough to share it with me.
I love you every day that you don't smoke a cigarette; it shows me that even though you set a bad example for me growing up, you did have the sense to change your ways.
I love you every time you poke me on facebook, because even though we have each moved on to other relationships, it shows that you still think of me as I think of you, and that we can still find some common, communicative ground.
I love you when you tell me you love me; it inspires hope in me that maybe someone realizes love the way in which I have for so long.
So then, what is love? I look at some of the words I use above, and I see: inspire, show, share, teach, learn, opportunity, trust, value, appreciate, bond, friendship...just to name a few. I don't think that love is one thing; rather, love is a combination of some (if not all) of these things. For me, love is not what love is for you. Likewise, for Sally or Tommy or Billy or Jen, love is something entirely different. Love is a moment. And, the people we love the most are those with whom we spend the most loving moments. I'm lucky enough to have a few of those people in my life; though I certainly can't proclaim to spend every single solitary moment loving them, I can say that I spend many moments loving them...inspiring them, trusting them, learning from them, bonding with them, appreciating them, valuing them, sharing with them, showing them (or being shown by them), and so on. Te amo, te amo...it's not one thing. It's many things, and it's amazing.
As I was writing this list and thinking of the people I was describing, it came to my attention that I was not simply describing thoughts. Nor was I simply describing words. Nor was I simply describing actions. I was describing a combination of thoughts, words, and actions, and my reactions to them. As I think about how, when, where, or why I love someone else, I realize that I love each and every person in a different way at a different time. I realize that each person that I love holds a significant place in my life, and I can say that I love each person differently...because there are as many forms of love as there are moments in time, and with each passing moment, I love you in a different way.
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