First Comes Feelings, then Comes…

I wonder what we’re all striving for.
It seems obvious at times.
Happiness. Right?

But the more posts I read on life and love, relationships and health, there always seems to be a dark donkey galloping in and out of the words.
Like we’re all wanting validation and attention. Wanting to be liked, sitting in our world of sigh-brr; claiming keys to joy and longevity, but underneath having lack of.

Maybe we’re never supposed to be entirely happy. So that we push ourselves continually, to find and be a better.

When we were late teening or early twentying, it didn’t seem that difficult, did it?
So what’s the change besides the thousand more responsibilities and the entire difference in what living then meant to living now.

If there are fundamentals of us yet we’re always changing, where does that leave us?

Acceptance.

If we accept everything that life is, and we do it enough that it becomes a habit, then we’re rolling through the evergreens with the sun blazing, rain pouring, sun falling or sun popping up,
and are fine.
Acceptance is stability.

Accepting we’re allowed to be sad, the amount of sad, the anxiety, the lulls in life, our favourite songs, our opinions and our taste buds..
accepting all the bad and good
is good.

 

 

Now just deal with that acceptance.

 

 

 

Accept Holidays, you Hue mans

 

Holidays are on the calender. They are days off of school. They are days off of work. You’ll complain about the marketing tactics, how it’s all just a scam, yet you’ll book a trip to Montreal on those days off and you will love it.

Don’t complain about how everyone should be showing their utmost love on more than just Valentines Day. When you don’t.
Instead of boycotting holidays, accept them.
Because unless you’re going to start a campaign that stretches across the world, the holiday ain’t gonna change.
They are in our calender year of life.

If you’re gonna stay home and sulk, then fine, do it. But don’t try and drag everybody else down with you.
If some 40 year olds want to dress up green, sparkle there face up and wear short Irish skirts and not even be Irish,
let them.
Being happy for other peoples happiness, regardless of where it derives from- is a beautiful quality to have.

Have fun with it, because you can’t change it.

In turn, you’ll likely turn out happier yourself and who knows,
maybe join in the next time someones having a Hop Along Easter Bunny Party and have the best carrot cake you’ve ever tasted.

What the Fook post

It’s really difficult to get a grip on life right now. It’s not stable. No matter how many moments I think it is. People affect your life in the extradionary amount that we most of the time, aren’t aware of. My heart turns three tomorrow. That’s my son. And I’ve been a terrible mother the past two months. This is such an airy vent-this post. These days,I’m kind of okay with losing everything, if it means I don’t have to feel about it. My own core person has its faults. We all do. I’m glad I can percieve mine in such a light, of workability. That i can put effort towards those strands of gunk and make them alright. I know the things I need to do. I know I’ve been post poning them. But now? Now I can’t do it much longer. After he’s three, well. I’m okay with letting it all out to where it needs to go. I know that’s whats been holding me back. I hate lying now. My guilt sucks me up into a basket of sick and my stomach doesn’t want anything to do with anything except alcohol.  I am hurt and hurting and sick and sickening. I want to get better. But I am weak and I will crack. I’m a strong pants wearing relatiopnship person. Is what I always thought. I did end all the ones I was in. But that may mean nothing. I’m saying that I’m in a spot where I’m not okay with not being smpathized with. I’m not okay with always being the one to walk after the otherI. I wont be. I will not be in a relationship where that is a case. Whether its my parents, my son, my friends. That is not what I do. It has taught me a lot. To be in this position. It’s taught me about the yucky part of love. When you’re running out the doorr and you don’t even want to but you know it will make things better even if you’re the one folding…It taught me to fold. And folding is love, to me. I’ve never folded so much. And it sucks blood out of me, and blows courage into me. I have never been this real with myself.

Let Us Be This Way

We’ve all got opinions that make up who we are. Somewhere along the way they are formed. There are many factors that make up who we are and some, we don’t even understand.
It is silly to get upset ( but very natural ) over someone else’s feelings of what you have said or done. People get offended or hurt easily so sometimes it makes it difficult to say what we really want to say. We shy away from other peoples feelings.
But people need to grab an exterior, fit for truthfulness. For if we all shy away from hurting anothers feelings,we’re gonna walk the park with chocolate on our cheek or our fly down.
It’s normal to get defensive and react quickly but maybe we all need to really think about what is going on in the situation. Did that person really mean to insult me? Was he doing me a favour?

We should think of it more like this way:
Did that person have to express what they were feeling? Did they have to tell me that story where they felt vulernable or weak. Did they have to tell me who texted them or who stopped by earlier?

In relationships, we want to be open. We want the doors cracked off their hinges so that there is in fact, no doors at all. We want to feel secure with those doors off and we want the other to too. So what better way to provoke that open spirit, then to accept truth and reality with an exterior that is willing to take a few dings and to feel a few things. To understand that our words may hurt each other, but that hurt or sadness gives us an opportunity to express our very natural feelings. And an opportunity for that other person to accept, embrace and ultimately, love.

Accepting and Dealing with Feelings

If we are conscious of feelings, we are better able to accept and deal with them. We must accept that we are going to disappoint ourselves a hundred and six times more, accept the love we feel. All feelings, are teachers that you and I can continually learn from. No matter how many times we feel angry when child draws on the legs of the table or when an appliance breaks for the 4th time. When we feel frustrated or hopeless, we are given an opportunity.
An opportunity to deal better than the last time, to make the outcome more positive.

And how we deal with what we feel, whether it’s after we’ve felt it or as we are,

is how our Life is represented.

The better we get at guiding our dealings into a positive stream, the more happier we are with the Life we are CHOOSING to live.

Feelings that Took Five Years

It took five years for me to cry over American or Canadian English,to flip out when I find Honey Nut Cheerios in a grocery store. It took five years for me to cry sitting on a mall floor, at the sight of shoes I know people in Canada would wear.
The intensity of longing and desire, of yearning and of miss, derives from the length of time they have been felt.
I laugh at this. I embrace it. I am in love with it.
It is a part of me now. I will not always miss this.More importantly I will not always miss like this.
So even though this breaks me, even though this aches, even though I crave English interaction so much I talk to myself almost every day at lunch,
it is beautiful.
It stuns me.
The simplicity of it all.

More than half of my friends, will never feel like this. More than half, have not lived abroad, let alone for five years.
I accept that it will forever make me different. That those friends I had, will not understand.
I accept that now, maybe my selection of future friends will have to have had simliar experiences to this, thus slimming the amount of friends I find and connect with.
I will take a hold of this and run with it.
For to deny change at such a level, is a hopeless solution.
I will only be weak because of it. And if I am weak, how will my future friends confide in me or find solace? How good of a friend will I really be?

Writings of My Dark Room

Last week I went to a very dark place.

For four days I stayed inside those walls.
I was aware of all the things I should do, that I needed to do in order to be better. But I didn’t care and I became numb to things and I went out for hours at a time drinking and wandering and not even feeling alone..but.. helpless.It’s an odd idea. To have such a detailed awareness of what I need to do, and then to actually feel unable. To feel the in ability and to know that I’m making it up. That it’s all me.That I’m the one making the problem, enlarging the issue. Im the one being ridiculous and child-like and yet… I feel too weak to change it.
I began to blame every little difficult thing-like the way Zeeks bag wouldn’t zip up on the first try, or tripping over wires, if Zeek cried for more than two minutes- I blamed that on the fact that it was because I was here in Thailand. I began to get angry and I didn’t even realise it was happening.

I had felt that I would be able to get on track and get involved and do more things with Zeek outside of the home. I really believed I would.
And then. It kept on not happening. I kept telling myself I was happy working on my videos and pictures and that if I could just get those done I would feel better.
But I just got in deeper. So deep that before I knew it, I was shutting down and walking with this cement structure around myself, ignoring Morgan and doing the minimal with Zeek.
Light could not enter my space. And I don’t think I even wanted it too. For the first time in my entire life, I actually felt incapable of fixing anything. Incapable of breaking the cube, of being happy. I felt life slide from my finger tips and my lack of care became what I breathed everywhere I went. I stopped eating and using drink, I both mentally and emotionally exhausted myself.
I knew I needed to be better and I knew Morgan and Zeek didn’t deserve to be treated the way I was treating them. I knew I was failing and I just got more angry at myself. I was miserable. I didn’t even feel alone. There was a layer of numbness to everything else I felt. I was unable to be the person I wanted. I hated that I had created this room and the person I was being inside of it.
I hated it, yet I felt I could not escape it..

In the meantime I of course stopped all contact with my family and my mother worried and wanted to talk but I felt like doing nothing of the sort and I stopped emailing the few people I was because silly this, the wait time for responses had me going wild.

I removed myself from any light because I felt all it did was make the issue less raw and I needed it to be raw in order for me to come to this point.

You would think after five years of living abroad I would have accepted being away from Canada but it isn’t the case. I guess that’s partly where all the phases and stages come in.

I have reaccepted my stay here and I have reevaluated my time and I’m kind of ready to not sulk here anymore. I’m okay.

Because it got me to a desperate make believe,four walled room where enough dizzying circles would have resulted in me being put on a plane without my son and flown to my home country where counselling sessions would have been forced into my brain space.

Sometimes I guess, we need refreshing. Sometimes we need to defrag our computers, delete various people on Facebook we don’t even know anymore and dye our hair. Sometimes we need to make big changes in order for us to continue- or even to be – happy.

The Day I Saw the World

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photo cred:samefeetdifferentpaths.com

I sat there for an hour and one half and I just watched people drive by and some dogs go by and people running and people going thru drive thru and the average was about five minutes through and I was always usually pretty shy of adults and now even though they are still adult to me, they are less old. I am closer to there age and they are closer to mine and men that have white hair are actually people that like young and funny and are okay with being with someone that is half their age because of it.
Thailand told me this.
Thailand told me that 65 year old big gutted men still want sex. It told me that 80 year olds will pay to have 20 year olds escort them around and it told me that even those men can fall in love and believe in every good darn minute of it.
Call me naive or sheltered or what you will, but I didn’t know any of that existed. Men are still attracted to woman at an age I thought was only meant for sitting on benches sipping newspapers and reading coffee.

And so as I sat there I thought about their lives outside of Tim Hortons’ parking lot. What they would be going home to and whether or not they were happy. I thought about being in their life and how I would change to have them like me and how I would find that easy to do. I thought about how I could be paid well in Thailand, to be that girl that is with the older men and how eventually I won’t have the looks or the body to be desired and how eventually this time in my life will be something I long for. Rather than scare me, it made me more determined not to eat another cookie, to keep my hair long before it becomes a pain and to keep my alertness in life on top of all things.

My conversation and cues and what others say or do are all things I am aware of and I often wonder where it comes from. The things which impact me and things I notice, are things that the next person does not. And the things I am slow at deciding or quick at forgetting, are things that the next person does the opposite of.It all comes from somewhere and I often wonder where and sitting on the lawn yesterday while the sun shined its way into all the living things, I figured out where.

It is not a very surprising place. It is not unusual or hard to understand.
It is simple because that is the way we are capable of making anything.
And if we are capable of making things simple, we are also capable of complicating them. Which is why it has taken so long for me to conclude that living is where it comes from.

Living is Time and Time has the ability to fill up with anything. It fills up with presents that eventually turn into pasts’ and pasts’ are memories that make up people whether they are remembered or not. That is where the things that impact me the way they do, come from. That is where the things that make you laugh or make you cry come from. And they won’t all be different from mine or the same and you can bet that living isn’t all where it comes from.
Parents of you and I have genetics and we are given them too and they are really the root of it and we are just the branches, swaying or not swaying, being leafy or unleafy.

I don’t see everything but yesterday for a few hours, that is how I saw the world.