I think our culture is saturated with a glamorized version of love. Nothing new I know. Not even groundbreaking. The tabloids and gossip columns are the first things read... we're watching everyone's wedding on tv and ooohing and ahhhing over the latest chick flick or perhaps chick lit. Unfortunately most of the "love" we're watching fizzles and the rest is fantasy. If we're going to base our own relationships on what we see, we're going to be disappointed.
I've grown up with clashing examples of what love is... My parents are working on thirty years of marriage but I can't remember the last time I saw them kiss. Of course some people grew up watching their parents make out and maybe they'd prefer their parents get a room. Occasionally my mom attempts a little flirty funny but my dad looks uncomfortable... maybe he just doesn't like pda and he considers his kids part of the public. I think they've tried a ltitle more the last few years... or maybe I just pay attention more, but I hope I look like I'm still enjoying marriage thirty years into it.
On the other hand, I'm a chick flick nerd. I own all of Julia Roberts' movies... even the bad ones (except firehouse from 1987 b/c I can't find it and her cartoon movies) and I've taken to reading cheesy chick lit on occasion as well. I'm a little more realistic than I was but I used to live vicariously through anna scott and maggie carpenter... maybe even a little mary fiore and lucy kelson... (name that movie?) Regardless... they always make love look easy. Sure there are tears and maybe even an occasional sad ending but the love always comes out looking good... I think it's in the requirements to being listed as a chick flick... or at least a romantic comedy.
Meanwhile... I'm a bit more cynical to it all. I want to find that happy medium but know it's not easy. I refuse to be bored or habitual but know no one is writing a screenplay about my love life in a way that would entertain millions. I want it to be real.
I just finished the Mermaid Chair by Sue Monk Kidd... my older sister recommended it, but it took me awhile to appreciate it. In the end, Jessie realized, "I felt amazed at the choosing one had to do, over and over, a million times daily - choosing love, then choosing it again, how loving and being in love could be so different."
Falling in love can feel subconscious. People always describe it as "love at first sight" or "I couldn't help myself" but when the hollywood tinted lenses come off loving is conscious... it is choosing... sometimes it's a choice to show it... sometimes it's a choice to fight for it... don't take it for granted.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
too soon
perhaps it's too soon but I'm in a rambling state of mind... patience please...
who are you? are you your job? are you your sport or hobby? are you your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife? are you defined by someone else's expectations? are you what happened yesterday? are you wrapped up in tomorrow?
who am I? or maybe who do I want to be? I want to be me. I want to live in this moment. I want to surround myself with people who build me up rather than tear me down. I want to be unreliant on others. I want to learn from yesterday without worrying about tomorrow. I want to pursue things I'm passionate about without letting them consume me. I want to be me.
who are you? are you your job? are you your sport or hobby? are you your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife? are you defined by someone else's expectations? are you what happened yesterday? are you wrapped up in tomorrow?
who am I? or maybe who do I want to be? I want to be me. I want to live in this moment. I want to surround myself with people who build me up rather than tear me down. I want to be unreliant on others. I want to learn from yesterday without worrying about tomorrow. I want to pursue things I'm passionate about without letting them consume me. I want to be me.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
expectations
I went to the driving range today for my first golf lesson. I've been to the driving range before, but it was probably somewhere between 10-15 years ago. Now I am a graduate of a golf school, working at the same golf school, living in a corporate world that golfs, with a ton of friends that golf. I figured it was time I make an attempt. One of my bosses at work and my golf "instructor" have been conspiring about getting me out there and evidently my boss warned the "instructor" about her concerns I would get frustrated. I have a tendency to be a little competitive... okay a lot competitive (I told you I liked competition) and I also seem to put a lot of pressure on myself to do well, or win, or whatever it may be. The good news is... I did okay today. I'm not satisfied, but at least I got the ball off the ground, hit it straight occasionally, and didn't hit anyone or anything. A good start I'd say... particularly if you were familiar with my history of trying new sports.
Almost nine years ago I decided to play lacrosse. It was my junior year of high school. Most of my soccer teammates were on the team, my back was struggling to continue pole vaulting and the team needed a goalkeeper. The starting keeper was a senior with no solid backups to takeover so I decided I'd learn... My first experience in the goal was an indoor tournament where I think I cried through the whole thing. Doubting my decision, I wavered a bit, but somehow showed up for the first day of tryouts. I sucked... and I knew it. American Idol is a commercial success because they have a bunch of dumb people who think they can sing and make fools of themselves throughout the audition process. I wasn't that naive. In the first scrimmage of the year, with nothing to lose, they threw me in the goal for the second half and I ran out to try to beat an attacker to a loose ball and plowed her over subsequently breaking her neck. I was advised to stay in the crease after that. I really only got playing time when we were winning by a lot and I think most of the time I just closed my eyes and threw my body out there praying I'd stop the ball. During a night game midway through the year with the stadium packed, we were down by too much when our coach called a timeout. I had taken on the responsibility of grabbing the big gatorade cooler and taking it to the team to expedite their hydration process. I was a little slow to remember on this occasion so I ran over, grabbed it, and started running back with it when my feet started to have trouble keeping up with the cooler. I ended up sprawled out on the field with the water and ice everywhere. I laid there for awhile considering my options... knowing everyone in our school had just witnessed a pretty big fall... our assistant is sweeping ice off the field with my goalie stick and I finally stand up and take a bow. What else can I do... let's just say I was remembered more for my watercooler antics that year than I was my goalkeeping abilities.
My senior year I was thrown in the goal for real. My year of apprenticeship was over and it was up to me. I still don't think I had a clue what I was doing. We could win 20-2 but I would still be angry I had let the other team score. There were many nights when we'd finish close to 9 at night and I'd head over to our practice field to try to get better... I was never satisfied and always felt like I was letting the team down. During our awards banquet at the end of the year I read a letter to the team... well attempted to read it... I apologized for not being better and for being a jerk to them when I had been mad at myself. I keep the letter closeby when I'm trying to live up to unrealistic expectations even now. I think, too often, I project onto myself what I think are others' expectations of me.
Joan Didion said, "To free us from the expectations of others, to give us back to ourselves--there lies the great, singular power of self-respect."
I'm a work in progress.
Almost nine years ago I decided to play lacrosse. It was my junior year of high school. Most of my soccer teammates were on the team, my back was struggling to continue pole vaulting and the team needed a goalkeeper. The starting keeper was a senior with no solid backups to takeover so I decided I'd learn... My first experience in the goal was an indoor tournament where I think I cried through the whole thing. Doubting my decision, I wavered a bit, but somehow showed up for the first day of tryouts. I sucked... and I knew it. American Idol is a commercial success because they have a bunch of dumb people who think they can sing and make fools of themselves throughout the audition process. I wasn't that naive. In the first scrimmage of the year, with nothing to lose, they threw me in the goal for the second half and I ran out to try to beat an attacker to a loose ball and plowed her over subsequently breaking her neck. I was advised to stay in the crease after that. I really only got playing time when we were winning by a lot and I think most of the time I just closed my eyes and threw my body out there praying I'd stop the ball. During a night game midway through the year with the stadium packed, we were down by too much when our coach called a timeout. I had taken on the responsibility of grabbing the big gatorade cooler and taking it to the team to expedite their hydration process. I was a little slow to remember on this occasion so I ran over, grabbed it, and started running back with it when my feet started to have trouble keeping up with the cooler. I ended up sprawled out on the field with the water and ice everywhere. I laid there for awhile considering my options... knowing everyone in our school had just witnessed a pretty big fall... our assistant is sweeping ice off the field with my goalie stick and I finally stand up and take a bow. What else can I do... let's just say I was remembered more for my watercooler antics that year than I was my goalkeeping abilities.
My senior year I was thrown in the goal for real. My year of apprenticeship was over and it was up to me. I still don't think I had a clue what I was doing. We could win 20-2 but I would still be angry I had let the other team score. There were many nights when we'd finish close to 9 at night and I'd head over to our practice field to try to get better... I was never satisfied and always felt like I was letting the team down. During our awards banquet at the end of the year I read a letter to the team... well attempted to read it... I apologized for not being better and for being a jerk to them when I had been mad at myself. I keep the letter closeby when I'm trying to live up to unrealistic expectations even now. I think, too often, I project onto myself what I think are others' expectations of me.
Joan Didion said, "To free us from the expectations of others, to give us back to ourselves--there lies the great, singular power of self-respect."
I'm a work in progress.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
competition
There's something about competition that strikes a chord with me. I haven't had a chance to really compete since November 8, 2002 (yes, I looked it up). I've encountered a few alumni thrashings and worked some camps but there's something about being part of a team that comes together ideally with the same goals and passion in order to compete together.
During my senior year of high school I was really debating the idea of playing soccer in college. Did I love it enough? Was I good enough? How much weight should I put on soccer when deciding where I should spend the next four years? I decided to go to Gardner-Webb, a school transitioning to Division I where I could try to walk-on, but the coach didn't seem to be throwing parties about my impending arrival. My parents paid the deposit and I was ready to go... until March 16, 2000 (yes, I looked it up) when the soccer coach at Methodist, Bobby, e-mailed me. He had e-mailed me before. He had even seen me play, we talked on the phone periodically and he sent me a letter every month, but I really wasn't feeling it. Let's just say Methodist and I weren't exactly love at first sight. But there was something about Bobby's e-mail that day that made me realize I wasn't ready to give up the game. I wanted to compete.
When I arrived at Methodist I covered my side of the walls of Weaver 221 with memories of home, countless posters and one of my favorite reminders of why I was there...
"It's not about getting a scholarship, getting drafted or making Sports Center. It's a deep need in us that comes from the heart. We need to practice, to play, to lift, to hustle, to sweat. We do it all for our teammates and for the guy in our calculus class we don't even know. We don't practice with a future Twins first basemen; we practice with a future sports agent. We don't lift weights with a future Olympic wrestler; we lift with a future doctor. We don't run with a future Wimbledon champion, we run with a future CEO. It's a bigger part of us than our friends and family can understand. Sometimes we play for 2,000 fans, sometimes 25. But we still play hard. You cheer for us because you know us. You know more than just our names. Like all of you, we are still students first. We don't sign autographs. But we do sign graduate school applications, MCAT exams and student body petitions. When we miss a kick, or strike out, we don't let down an entire state. We only let down our teammates, coaches and fans. But the hurt in our hearts is the same. We train hard. Lift, throw, run, kick, tackle, shoot, dribble and lift some more, and in the morning we go to class. Still the next day in class we are nothing more than students. It's about pride in ourselves and in our school. And when it's all over, when we walk off that court or field for the last time, our hearts crumble. Those tears are real. But deep down inside, we are very proud of ourselves. We will forever be what few can cl.. college athletes." -- Sean Sornsin, Cornell College (Iowa)
Sometimes I have to re-read it... to remind myself of where I've been... where I'm going. I spent the last three days getting schooled in my attempt to play soccer with the elite Methodist camp. I was deemed "old" amongst the 20 others ranging from 12 to 21. I've never been speedy gonzales, but I keep getting slower... my touches are off... my shots are wide and I still don't have a right foot... but it didn't matter because I was able to spend a few more hours out on the field kicking a stupid ball that means so much to me. It struck a chord and made me itch for the Methodist season to start... another season of living vicariously through the athletes that won't really know or appreciate what they've done until it's over.
During my senior year of high school I was really debating the idea of playing soccer in college. Did I love it enough? Was I good enough? How much weight should I put on soccer when deciding where I should spend the next four years? I decided to go to Gardner-Webb, a school transitioning to Division I where I could try to walk-on, but the coach didn't seem to be throwing parties about my impending arrival. My parents paid the deposit and I was ready to go... until March 16, 2000 (yes, I looked it up) when the soccer coach at Methodist, Bobby, e-mailed me. He had e-mailed me before. He had even seen me play, we talked on the phone periodically and he sent me a letter every month, but I really wasn't feeling it. Let's just say Methodist and I weren't exactly love at first sight. But there was something about Bobby's e-mail that day that made me realize I wasn't ready to give up the game. I wanted to compete.
When I arrived at Methodist I covered my side of the walls of Weaver 221 with memories of home, countless posters and one of my favorite reminders of why I was there...
"It's not about getting a scholarship, getting drafted or making Sports Center. It's a deep need in us that comes from the heart. We need to practice, to play, to lift, to hustle, to sweat. We do it all for our teammates and for the guy in our calculus class we don't even know. We don't practice with a future Twins first basemen; we practice with a future sports agent. We don't lift weights with a future Olympic wrestler; we lift with a future doctor. We don't run with a future Wimbledon champion, we run with a future CEO. It's a bigger part of us than our friends and family can understand. Sometimes we play for 2,000 fans, sometimes 25. But we still play hard. You cheer for us because you know us. You know more than just our names. Like all of you, we are still students first. We don't sign autographs. But we do sign graduate school applications, MCAT exams and student body petitions. When we miss a kick, or strike out, we don't let down an entire state. We only let down our teammates, coaches and fans. But the hurt in our hearts is the same. We train hard. Lift, throw, run, kick, tackle, shoot, dribble and lift some more, and in the morning we go to class. Still the next day in class we are nothing more than students. It's about pride in ourselves and in our school. And when it's all over, when we walk off that court or field for the last time, our hearts crumble. Those tears are real. But deep down inside, we are very proud of ourselves. We will forever be what few can cl.. college athletes." -- Sean Sornsin, Cornell College (Iowa)
Sometimes I have to re-read it... to remind myself of where I've been... where I'm going. I spent the last three days getting schooled in my attempt to play soccer with the elite Methodist camp. I was deemed "old" amongst the 20 others ranging from 12 to 21. I've never been speedy gonzales, but I keep getting slower... my touches are off... my shots are wide and I still don't have a right foot... but it didn't matter because I was able to spend a few more hours out on the field kicking a stupid ball that means so much to me. It struck a chord and made me itch for the Methodist season to start... another season of living vicariously through the athletes that won't really know or appreciate what they've done until it's over.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
waiting
Webster defines "wait" as... 1a: to remain stationary in readiness or expectation; b: to pause for another to catch up 2a: to look forward expectantly; b: to hold back expectantly 3: to serve at meals 4a: to be ready and available; b: to remain temporarily neglected or unrealized
We all have to learn to wait in life. We wait in traffic, or we wait for something in the mail, or maybe we wait for a new movie to come out. We wait for test results, we wait for a baby's birth, we wait for a phone call. Waiting in some form or another is inevitable... but what are you going to do with your wait? How do you decide what or who is worth waiting for?
Sometimes we become impatient waiting. I think there's a reason for everything, but I wonder what I might have missed out on by giving up on the wait. This kid (ok he's probably not a kid) Napoleon Gonzales said, "We cannot remove this waiting from our lives. It is a part of the tapestry of living - the fabric in which the threads are woven to tell the story of our lives.Yet current philosophies would have us forget the need to wait - Instant pleasure, instant transcendence. Do not wait for anything. Life is short - eat, drink and be merry because tomorrow you will die." We are in a habit of seeking instant gratification. I'm all about not worrying about tomorrow, going with the flow, but at what point do we settle in for the wait?
Sometimes we have to decide if waiting means standing still and waiting expectantly for something or someone... sometimes we have to dig our feet in to endure a barrage of storms in our life. Other times we need to keep moving forward while we wait. I think I have to keep putting one foot in front of the other while I'm waiting. Maybe subconsciously I think if I'm moving, I'm going to lessen the wait or if I wrap myself in other things I can ignore the wait. Probably not... but I keep moving.
Perhaps you remember a few months ago I clued you in to my american idol fave Chris Sligh. He didn't go as far as I might have liked, but he had a band... Half Past Forever and one of my fave songs on their cd is "How Long"... check it out... just a snippet to tease you...
"All my life's been leading to this:
I've been dreaming
I know that life was meant for so much more
All the dreams and hopes to be
Are just dreams of something bigger
Maybe all this dreaming brings me closer to you"
here's to waiting...
We all have to learn to wait in life. We wait in traffic, or we wait for something in the mail, or maybe we wait for a new movie to come out. We wait for test results, we wait for a baby's birth, we wait for a phone call. Waiting in some form or another is inevitable... but what are you going to do with your wait? How do you decide what or who is worth waiting for?
Sometimes we become impatient waiting. I think there's a reason for everything, but I wonder what I might have missed out on by giving up on the wait. This kid (ok he's probably not a kid) Napoleon Gonzales said, "We cannot remove this waiting from our lives. It is a part of the tapestry of living - the fabric in which the threads are woven to tell the story of our lives.Yet current philosophies would have us forget the need to wait - Instant pleasure, instant transcendence. Do not wait for anything. Life is short - eat, drink and be merry because tomorrow you will die." We are in a habit of seeking instant gratification. I'm all about not worrying about tomorrow, going with the flow, but at what point do we settle in for the wait?
Sometimes we have to decide if waiting means standing still and waiting expectantly for something or someone... sometimes we have to dig our feet in to endure a barrage of storms in our life. Other times we need to keep moving forward while we wait. I think I have to keep putting one foot in front of the other while I'm waiting. Maybe subconsciously I think if I'm moving, I'm going to lessen the wait or if I wrap myself in other things I can ignore the wait. Probably not... but I keep moving.
Perhaps you remember a few months ago I clued you in to my american idol fave Chris Sligh. He didn't go as far as I might have liked, but he had a band... Half Past Forever and one of my fave songs on their cd is "How Long"... check it out... just a snippet to tease you...
"All my life's been leading to this:
I've been dreaming
I know that life was meant for so much more
All the dreams and hopes to be
Are just dreams of something bigger
Maybe all this dreaming brings me closer to you"
here's to waiting...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)