Wednesday, August 18, 2010

How To Be Alone

I've been super busy these past few days. Wemade it to Miami and Disney World but not New York. :-(.. I'll be back to posting as soon as I catch my breath. But for now I present to you this poem by Tanya Davis.


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If you are at first lonely, be patient.

If you’ve not been alone much, or if when you were, you weren’t okay with it, then just wait. You’ll find it’s fine to be alone once you’re embracing it.

We can start with the acceptable places, the bathroom, the coffee shop, the library, where you can stall and read the paper, where you can get your caffeine fix and sit and stay there. Where you can browse the stacks and smell the books; you’re not supposed to talk much anyway so it’s safe there.

There is also the gym, if you’re shy, you can hang out with yourself and mirrors, you can put headphones in.

Then there’s public transportation, because we all gotta go places.

And there’s prayer and mediation, no one will think less if your hanging with your breath seeking peace and salvation.

Start simple. Things you may have previously avoided based on your avoid being alone principles.

The lunch counter, where you will be surrounded by “chow downers”, employees who only have an hour and their spouses work across town, and they, like you, will be alone.

Resist the urge to hang out with your cell phone.

When you are comfortable with “eat lunch and run”, take yourself out for dinner; a restaurant with linen and Silverware. You’re no less an intriguing a person when you are eating solo desert and cleaning the whip cream from the dish with your finger. In fact, some people at full tables will wish they were where you were.

Go to the movies. Where it’s dark and soothing, alone in your seat amidst a fleeting community.

And then take yourself out dancing, to a club where no one knows you, stand on the outside of the floor until the lights convince you more and more and the music shows you. Dance like no one’s watching because they’re probably not. And if they are, assume it is with best human intentions. The way bodies move genuinely to beats, is after-all, gorgeous and affecting. Dance until you’re sweating. And beads of perspiration remind you of life’s best things. Down your back, like a book of blessings.

Go to the woods alone, and the trees and squirrels will watch for you. Go to an unfamiliar city, roam the streets, they are always statues to talk to, and benches made for sitting gives strangers a shared existence if only for a minute, and these moments can be so uplifting and the conversation you get in by sitting alone on benches, might of never happened had you not been there by yourself.

Society is afraid of alone though. Like lonely hearts are wasting away in basements. Like people must have problems if after awhile nobody is dating them.

But lonely is a freedom that breathes easy and weightless, and lonely is healing if you make it.

You can stand swathed by groups and mobs or hands with your partner, look both further and farther in the endless quest for company.

But no one is in your head. And by the time you translate your thoughts an essence of them maybe lost or perhaps it is just kept. Perhaps in the interest of loving oneself, perhaps all those “sappy slogans” from pre-school over to high school groaning, we’re tokens for holding the lonely at bay.

Cause if you’re happy in your head, then solitude is blessed, and alone is okay.

It’s okay if no one believes like you, all experiences unique, no one has the same synapses, can’t think like you, for this be relived, keeps things interesting, life’s magic things in reach, and it doesn’t mean you aren’t connected, and the community is not present, just take the perspective you get from being one person in one head and feel the effects of it.

Take silence and respect it.

If you have an art that needs a practice, stop neglecting it, if your family doesn’t get you or a religious sect is not meant for you, don’t obsess about it.

You could be in an instant surrounded if you need it.

If your heart is bleeding, make the best of it.

There is heat in freezing, be a testament.

Site: http://lybio.net/tanya-davis-how-to-be-alone/poem/

Monday, August 2, 2010

Dogs Are Cheaper Than Siblings


Hubby and I have gotten some strange comments through the years regarding Daredevil’s singleton status. When Daredevil was four months a friend said “You have to have another child or else she’ll turn into a spoiled brat.” I looked at her incredulously; some of the brattiest people we knew had siblings.

On Mother’s day two years ago my mother in law sent me a text saying, “I had a dream that you had two more children. You’d make a great mother.” I guess parenting one child doesn’t count.

I had another woman tell me that I should just get pregnant. She knew Hubby was deployed at the time, so I figured she meant with another man’s baby. Naturally I ignored her.

Very recently my grandmother and aunt came over to visit. Grandma said, “Hurry up and have another one before they get too far apart.” I glanced over to my aunt to catch her reaction to this statement. Auntie had two children ten years apart.

Very few people understand or believe that I could actually be happy with one child. Sometimes I joke that my ideal spacing is eighteen years. Hubby’s reaction? “Ahh no.” LOL

I have ten siblings. We’ve made and continue to make some really great memories together. I remember hanging out with them in Chinatown hunting for the perfect pair of chopsticks. Then we dined at a Ramen restaurant. We stole food from each others bowls. Sharing stories and jokes, our laughter filled the restaurant. Then we went home to start cooking Thanksgiving dinner. I wanted to get a head start so that we could go to the parade the next morning. We fell into bed sometime in the AM. Then we rolled out of bed early the next morning pulled on some clothes, grabbed bagels and coffee and hopped on the J train to Manhattan. It was Daredevil’s very first Thanksgiving Day Parade. They shared that moment with me. I adore my siblings. Times like those make me wonder if Daredevil would enjoy having a little rug rat around.

Hubs and Daredevil took a few years to convince me to get a dog. We ended up bringing Rocky home two years ago. This dog somehow became Daredevil’s pseudo-sibling. She chases him around the house. She picks fights with him. She calls him over to slam the door in his face. And she is ALWAYS- I mean ALWAYS- trying to get rid of him. I can’t imagine how I would react to her treating her sibling that way. So I’m glad we have poor Rocky. Plus he’s cheaper than another kid.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

The Making of a Military Wife

When the good Lord was creating Wives, he was into his sixth day of overtime. An angel appeared and said, "You're having a lot of trouble with this one. What's wrong with the standard model?"

And the Lord replied, "Have you seen the specs on this order? She has to be completely independent, but must be sponsored to get on post; have the qualities of both father and mother during deployments; be a perfect hostess to 4 or 40; run on black coffee; handle emergencies without a manual; be able to handle flu, birthdays and moves around the world; have a kiss that can cure anything from a child's torn Valentine to a husband's weary day; have the patience of a saint when waiting for the Unit to return home; and have six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her hand slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands... no way!"

And the Lord answered, "Don't worry, we'll make other military wives to help. Besides it's not the hands that are causing the problem, it's the heart. It must swell with pride in her husband, sustain the ache of separations, beat on soundly when it's too tired to do so and be large enough to say, "I Understand" when she doesn't, and 'I love you' regardless."

"Lord," said the angel, touching his sleeve gently. "Come to bed... finish this tomorrow!"

"I can't," said the Lord. "I'm so close to creating something unique. Already I have one who heals herself when she's sick, can feed three unexpected guests who are stuck in the area due to bad weather, and can wave good-bye to her husband, from a pier, off a runway and understand that it is important to his country that he leaves."

The angel circled the model of the military wife very slowly. "It's too soft," she sighed.

"But tough," said the Lord excitedly. "You cannot imagine what this woman can do or endure."

"Can it think?"

"Can it think? It can convert 1400 to 2 p.m."

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek. "There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model."

"It's not a leak," said the Lord. "It's a tear."

"What's it for?" asked the angel. "It's for joy. Sadness. Disappointment... Pain, loneliness and pride!"

"You are a genius," sighed the angel. The Lord looked somber and replied, "I didn't put it there."