Tag Archives: life
Red Cover
So, now that I am gainfully employed I have purchased a scanner with a lovely hinge that allows me to scan books. This will change the way I blog since as much as I love to write, I love to draw, paint, and collage. I collect pieces of things in my life and stow them away for future collages and journals. The results you will start seeing more and more on The Seize. Enjoy- and feel free to comment as always!!
Child’s Chance to Choice
A few of my bloggin’ buddies have been posting their “Code’s of Life” lately, namely one Rory Blyth and Tao Cowboy. It’s enough to make one want to join the philosophizing and reflecting party (woo!).
Mostly my views have grown and changed as I’ve wandered through life. I’ve never been one for holding onto an idea once it’s proven not to work for me. One thing that’s remained a constant is importance placed on honesty. Being true to oneself and others to me is as big as the inhabitants of Moonglow in the world of Britannia (screen shot from Ultima IV).
Honesty might have been even more important to me growing up. Let’s face it, most adults are anything but honest with children. I’m not talking about Santa Clause, I’m talking about the lies designed to protect us. I resented that kind of dishonesty as much as the malicious kind. Whether or not we as adults want to admit it, the effect can be as, if not more, devastating than any truth told. Kids will find out the truth later when they grow into adulthood, or more likely, much sooner than you’d like. When this lie is told the truth can be found in an embarrassing, painful, or even dangerous manner. One of my first thoughts goes to my mom who had my older brother when she was fifteen. I know the people in her life thought they were protecting her by keeping her ignorant about the birds and the bees, but really what they did is deprive her of a choice.
People think children aren’t old enough to make choices, and perhaps no one is. However, in life we are forced to make choices that we are no prepared to. This happens all the time. I hope that if I have children I’ll do everything I can to give them the ammunition to make choices wisely when life forces them to. Above all, I hope they don’t have to make tough calls, but they will. We can’t be there every second to chose for them, and knowledge is power.
I hope this for my younger siblings, one who just had her last day of high school, the other who is in his preteen years. I know that I am a big influence in their lives and that they are listening to me and looking to me for influence, even when they are pretending or trying not to. We learn from our surroundings, especially the things we give credence to. I might just be another person, but I’m also a role model and example whether or not I want to be.
I believe in the power of honesty and I believe in the power of learning, and to me they are one in the same. If you’re smart enough to ask the question, you deserve honest input, even if (and especially) the answer isn’t certain. There I think is the key to personal growth and betterment in this life.
My younger of my siblings is eleven. People have described him as a smartass and too smart for his own good. It’s true. I remember being described that way when I was his age. I remember being eleven and all the things I knew and was dealing with that my parents didn’t know. It’s hard to look at him and think that he might have some of the same heavy issues in his own life. It’s hard to look at him and consider he might have even harder decisions to make than I did. I know he’ll learn things from other sources, popular culture and his peers. I know he might absorb all the wrong things if I don’t speak up and even more, listen. I know I can’t learn for him and he will have to make his own mistakes, but I hope they are harmless and few. I listen and when he asks, I try to give him the best, most honest answer I can give. I’m trying to give him a fighting chance to make the right decisions. Without real information about the world around him, how is he going to have chance?
Beyond that, I want to teach him the value of honesty with my own example. He will become his own person regardless. He’ll find his own life code and values. He’ll have his own obstacles and choices. Even if I don’t see it, I know he has them right now. Every day he’s forming new opinions, testing the waters, and becoming more independent. I’ll always be here to tell him truthfully what I think and I hope one day he will return the favor by doing the same for others well into adulthood.
As for my sister, who is just like me and just the opposite of me in so many ways, I’m proud of her. Sure, she doesn’t hold dear all of the same things that I do, and she’s made a million choices I would never have. All the same, she’s doing better than okay. She’s reached the official United States definition of adulthood: eighteen. She has her High School Diploma. She is attending Anna Maria college in the fall. She works. She has a ton of friends. She’s a great cook and musician. She’s made it. She’s is doing well. I know I can’t take credit for the person she’s become, but I still like to think that I did okay in my part in her upbringing. I was right to trust her to hear all I had to say and make all the tough choices she’s had to up to this point. Life is not easy, and making it this far doing well and no small accomplishment.
Work & Work
The system is that was go to school to go to school to get a job to get money to live. Where’s the time to enjoy the life or the money we make (if there is any left after living). Many of are expected to be at work even when we’re not working or be on call. We look forward to retirement which may not happen before we die and when it does we will be either too old or poor to enjoy it. We take part in this cycle because it’s what we’re born into. The most that most of us can do is try to get that job that you somehow identify yourself with. That way, when it becomes the all consuming meaning of your life, it won’t feel quite so empty. When you admit that you are so much of your job, hopefully it is something you can at least take a piece of pride in. Relate it to a piece of your true self are a large notch above most of the working world.
The double irony of all of this is there are those of us who enjoy working. My entertainment mostly consists of work, but it’s work that I chose to do. It relaxes me in its own way. I put my full self into it with gusto. This is the sort of thing most of us dream about getting paid to do on a regular basis. Many people can be happy with a job they don’t identify with. I am the type of person who will probably not feel completely whole unless I have a job that I own. I want to work somewhere were I have pride, pronouns like ‘my’, and see myself in products of my labors. That may sound a little selfish, but all I’m asking is to work in the world as me, and not just be a moving, warm body that goes from day to day. I want more, I’m willing to work hard for more, but none of us knows how to get that (even the people that have it). They would look at you or I and say “I dunno.” or “Work hard.” as if that’s all they did to get where they are. They say it as if it’s not what you are doing. A few honest people have told me to be in the right place at the right time or talk to the right people.
Life doesn’t give you much to go on. It’s so hard even just to be and remain you.
I look at the people my age who I know and they are struggling with this aspect of their lives. They have college degrees and resumes and mad skills and talents. Yet, still, they fall into few categories. I have friends who get jobs they love, but they’re temporary or don’t actually support them. Internships are supposed to get you the better job tomorrow, just like college was. How many jobs is a person supposed to have to support their life? I have friends who find themselves out of work due to weather, economy, and simply being the low man on the totem pole. It seems like we have to pick up the ‘any’ job or drown. And then there are those that have better than the ‘any’ job, secure, but still somehow utterly miserable. They work for X Corp. which is part of their field, but no matter what they were hired as, they find themselves as little more than a glorified receptionist / personal assistant. Low man on totem pole is always looking for work whether or not they have a job and is scraping by for money even when they have a job. If you have the money for fun after everything else, it’s a must to survive life. You can’t work so many hours at a job, even one you like, and then when the weekend comes say, “I would socially interact with you, but I need to pay the bills.”
We play the ‘whose bills’ game with each other. Who has the worst student loan debt? Who has the lowest bank account balance? We all have savings accounts, but they’re for good intentions and future hopes at this point. Who gets by without getting any money from the family since they moved out? Anyone? Anyone?
This is my generation and I’m trying hard to be the exception. But then, most of us are.
Jogging me Crazy
Sometimes people and things think and act like they’re something they’re not. A dog thinks it’s a cat. A worrier acts like it’s cool. Bicyclists think they’re cars, but not ones that have to obey traffic signals.
In Southern MA today, joggers thought they were cars. There was no marathon for money or a race or anything. A few people in a little place known as Northbridge, MA just decided to jog in the main road going through the town. Sure, this is a small town, but it is the road that leads to the closest huge ass Walmart).
You might think to yourself that this is happening because many of these little towns have no sidewalks. This area, however, sported what appeared to be excellent sidewalks. I mean, they looked like they were functional. I didn’t try them out myself since I was in my truck. That would be a bit inappropriate, to use a sidewalk while in a truck. It would be about as inappropriate as say pedestrians jogging in the road.
So, why then would these pedestrians so take their lives into their own hands? It occurs to me that the confusion might stem from the word sidewalk. These suburbanites in their jogging gear, sunglasses, and caps might have thought they would offend the sidewalk’s sensibilities if they were to run on it instead of walk upon it. It would be as big a crime as if someone had walked on the ‘do not walk on the grass’ greenery, or loitered in front of the ‘no loitering sign’. A life of crime like that just isn’t worth it. It’s better to put your safety on the line and wiggle your tight toosh in front of my Ford F150.
And let’s not offend any bicyclists by jogging in their little lane. No, let’s go out a bit in case *they* need to get by.
Yes, let us burn off our carbs, jogging two abreast, in the middle of the main road.
It’s okay if the cars and trucks need to go around us, over the yellow line. I’m sure the cars coming the other way won’t mind.
What? You think we should step up on the sidewalk so vehicles can go around?
Hey! We have rights. You ever hear of a little thing called the Constitution? You know the amendment that protects our right to be assholes? This is America, damn it!
Meanwhile, people like me wonder why these joggers can’t just stay home, hook up the power pad to their Nintendo Entertainment Center, and play World Class Track Meet.
Inside the Storm
Gripping the fickle, it’s like a vice
been held a captive audience
fading fast, cold as ice
staring through mirrored glass,
past the laughs are other forms
huddling and hiding from the past
trying too hard to last the norm.
That one moment of contact stretches,
breaks at the drop of a hat,
turns around and fetches
another face to fill that
hole that never fills fully
and empties out again.
Let go and into storm I’m riding
struggling to take hold amidst them
when there is nothing to hold onto
except hold each other hiding.
Drift and struggle inside the storm
perpetuate the myth
to function fully and feel the norm
to find purpose in being adrift.
I try to turn away
from the faces and labels
Eddie away from the names
and change the only things
that ever stay the same.
I would stand on two feet
if I wasn’t in fear of falling
I’ll meet you far after
I hear you calling
And let go again whatever we are.