Monthly Archives: October 2013

Note To Self

The thing I want to address today is what the fuck is with expectations? Yours, mine, theirs. Are people aware that their reality is not my reality? I’m fully aware that my reality isn’t yours. Furthermore your emergency is not my emergency and vice versa. When the bottom falls out of my current reality, when my expectations are proven to be bullshit, I stop. I sit in it, and I reevaluate my options as well as my plan of action. I don’t feel it necessary to justify any adjustments as I put them into motion. I have no problem communicating to those who will be effected by my alterations exactly what they can expect. Outside of alerting those individuals, my choices are simply that. They’re mine. Due to the fact that I contemplate in a thorough manner precisely what it is I need to do in response to unexpected events, I have a great deal of confidence regarding my newly formed perspective. I may look to one or two friends for loose advice but I don’t need anyone to like or approve of my final decision. I need to feel comfortable with what I do. Everyone else can take care of their own feelings. I wonder from time to time what the world would be like if we could all engage in a healthy level of expectation or even dependency. It will never happen, of course, nevertheless I do enjoy the moment when my imagination can offer me a snapshot of the possibilities.

I realize that my extreme level of independence is not very conducive to forming or maintaining intimate relationships be they romantic or platonic. That being said I have enjoyed several relationships in my lifetime that have lasted for more than 40 years and a few that have developed within recent years. Some with family members, most with friends. I have been fortunate in that I have been able to find a few people along the way that are capable of letting me be me while I support them being them. And as I get older the whole dance becomes easier and smoother for all involved. It’s all about expectations and the ability to readjust them. Staying fluid with myself as well as others affords me the space that I need to move around inside these relationships with reasonable comfort. Once in a great while I bump into an obstacle set up by another when they need more from me than I can deliver. With adequate articulation we usually move beyond it. And then there are the occasions when we simply have to part ways, maybe for a period of time, maybe for good. Either way, if I feel I’ve been true to myself I’m quite satisfied with whatever the result. I’ve thought it through, I’ve been brutally honest with myself, I’ve exercised objectivity so it all seems logical to me. I can certainly live with that.

In the last year I have experienced some huge changes. One being the diagnosis of my father’s dementia. Now let me describe for you how this ties in with expectations both coming and going. As a child I was mesmerized by my father’s ability to make any crisis into a comedy. Funerals, kids in trouble at school, loss of employment and the like. He didn’t ignore the importance of these events, he simply didn’t allow them to encompass his every thought or decision. His coping mechanisms were often sarcasm, irreverence and full-on ball breaking. My father is a little man, a very gentle man, and he is also an intelligent person who had a way of observing life exactly the way it presented itself to him. If pushed or threatened in some way he didn’t hesitate to take action. Due to his truly admirable social skills he could often times turn an enemy into a friend in a matter of minutes. Not by acquiescing to be sure. Just by making fucking sense. He taught me to play chess at a very young age and while we would plan our annihilation of each other he would drop philosophical gems on me that I still refer to today. His perspective and observations have proven to be timeless. He has been, for better or worse, the greatest father a girl like me could have (yes, I’m well aware of my bias). His encouragement of my natural use of logic while leaving emotion for the most appropriate of occasions from an early age has made my self-concept a much healthier one than it would have been had anyone else been guiding me. Of this I feel quite sure. After many years of taking this relationship with my father for granted, and I mean that in the best possible way, I now have to adjust my expectations. He is no longer completely there. He often times can’t access his own vast vocabulary. Due to his condition, my father has no control over sadness or happiness. Both come on way more intensely than he had experienced throughout his life. Watching my father sob uncontrollably over something that in the past would have simply caused him to well up a bit is a heartbreaking reality and calls for a new level of expectation from me. My father is alive and I’m happy about that. I just can’t expect to see my Dad as the man he was, the man who raised me to be independent, the man who constantly told me that I was fine exactly as I am. There is no renegotiating with him how our relationship will now be. I needed to allow for him to drop his end of it and I wanted to accomplish this with as much grace as I could gather. This in itself adds another adjustment to my expectations of myself. Now I had to be above the situation. I had to make this new coping mechanism work for both of us. I had to go way outside of my usual comfort zone and create a new perspective that would offer each of us the satisfaction and security we deserve. For the most part this is working very well. We enjoy our time together and I experience no resistance within myself when those moments come where I am in a position to comfort him through a crying jag. Of course I’m still fluid with him as I never know from one visit to the next how he will present himself. Sometimes I feel as though I’m lost in some weird space and other times I am grateful to offer him anything I can. Not only as a return on what he has given me over the years, also as a way to show up for another human being who gave his reality all that he possibly could. He wasn’t and isn’t perfect and neither am I. In that way, we still make a great pair.

I guess what I’m getting at is be aware of reality. Your reality isn’t shared by anyone outside of yourself. There may be many things we have in common but none of us see the world or life in exactly the same way. Be willing to change and grow as the things around you change and grow. Be okay with knowing that you are in this alone. Then when those moments come along where you and another are meeting in a space where everything seems lined up between you rather perfectly, you’ll be able to let that moment be the beautiful, temporary, and rare experience that it is. Then you can move beyond that moment and take some of the beauty with you when you go.

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The Post That’s More Like A Rant

I haven’t been the typical ranting cunt you’ve all come to appreciate or simply enjoy in the last few weeks. Now it’s time to blow off some steam. Let me start by saying that I am so over group-think bullshit that I can barely stand looking at my timeline anymore. That’s not to say I’m lacking any enjoyment from the great minds that continue to pass the baton around, taking turns at various methods of trying to get the message across to overly controlling meshuggenehs. I love the gems you fuckers throw out there. Truly. It’s the repeated exposure to what you’re all responding to that is desensitizing me. That’s a dangerous place for me to arrive at due to the fact that I barely give a fuck as it is. That being said, the most powerful motivator for my desire to put anyone on blast has been when I observe the surreptitious manner in which those who claim to be victims of  ‘Other Tweeters Are Hurting My Feelings Abuse’ go around ultimately maligning or purposely agitating those who are willing to stand at the front lines in the battle for a secular and egalitarian globe. The only personalities that get off on this sort of behavior are those whose minds are operating from a fear-based foundation. Everything’s offensive and all harm done is everyone else’s fault. When these pussies show up under the guise of being the only true fighters for ‘the good fight’, their need to control the tones, behaviors, beliefs, language, methods, and passions of others takes on a form that utterly disgusts me. My first impulse had been to bust into a given thread and bang some heads together. Unfortunately my indifference toward this realm of the twitterverse has only grown. That impulse now passes rather quickly if it even manifests at all and I don’t feel inspired to rant. These clearly religious, anti-religious folks have lost their sparkle. They’ve become irrelevant to me because they truly have no impact on anything real. I’d prefer to spend my precious twitter time on people, topics and issues that offer some fucking significance and a pathway to genuine change and growth.

Another sneaky little development that I’ve picked up on very recently is coming from twitter accounts being run by ambiguous personas (I’m not talking about obvious trolls here so stop jerking off, Irish Bloke) schmoozing their way into threads involving open discussions on a variety of topics. They deliberately appear from the outset to be aligning themselves with the majority perspective that naturally develops in the thread. These individuals endear themselves to others with some well-placed compliments and fluffy statements in hopes of setting up a sense of security and after a relatively moderate amount of exchanges that afford them success in gaining likability, they begin a methodical picking apart of the arguments they’ve just recently claimed to adhere to. Now listen, I love a good argument, a fight-to-the-death debate, but when the debate is a setup for the fulfillment of an unforeseen agenda, all bets are off. I’m definitely going to expose, dress down, and ultimately devour these douche buckets.

So we not only have a bunch of fucking criers running around twitter saying, “She/He has offended me with her/his tweets”, we also have at least a few slippery types who are looking for the back entrance into a decent, well-handled debate or discussion only to satisfy their urge to disturb others for fuck-only-knows what reason. I realize many of you enjoy batting these malcontents around, I certainly do from time to time. I think what gets me riled up about it is noticing, now from a greater distance, how the energy spent by those I really respect and admire is being used up on worthless, self-loathing types that represent little more than filler in a community of intelligent, proactive, perspective-shifting social geniuses. You beautiful badasses know who you are, the ones who I adore out loud and never hesitate to tell you that I not only appreciate what you do here, you also force me to raise the bar on myself. And there’s the rub. When the true movers and shakers get tied up with sincerely trying to escort the seemingly confused asshole to a place of reason only to find that the entire exchange was a game from the beginning, I drop my head in utter frustration. I’m deflated, temporarily, of course, but deflated nonetheless.

So here’s a little something I brought along to the party for you pussified, underhanded, still scared of mommy’s and daddy’s judgement types; pull yourselves together. Do it now or do it soon. The reason being that I am staring down death on a daily basis here and I have less than zero tolerance for any and all horshittery. I’m hitting my fourth week of it today. This is not the first time I have been faced with something powerful enough to show me what the fuck matters and what doesn’t. It’s merely the most recent. This work I am doing now serves as a refresher in the course I took several years ago when I schooled myself on what it means to be true, what it means to be committed, loyal, compassionate and empathetic. What it means to pay attention to what you choose to utilize from your toolbox of coping mechanisms. That actions and reactions have consequences. Therefore taking a good long and honest look at your behavior may allow you the opportunity to become an authentic contributor in the world around you. Conversely, jumping up and down while screaming and crying after you yourself set the stage for a confrontation you weren’t able to resolve due to your agenda being in existence way before you approached the table, makes you a complete asshole. I’m not suffering assholes well these days so I’ve made the decision to go with it. Strap yourselves in, Dolls. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll hear the sounds of whistling winds through a tunnel every fucking time you bend over.

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