blogs, music, life, love, and everything in between - this is my handprint in cement, my carving in a tree.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
late night delirious mind
Saturday, July 25, 2009
learning curve...
For anyone who knows me you'll understand that I'm an odd sort, kind of a kook. In fact, the word random is thrown around a lot another thing some might know is that I don't deal with sharing feelings and such all that well. This blog, I suppose, is a bridge for the gap. This is more about having a conversation with myself rather than sharing myself with the world. If someone out there somewhere finds truth in anything that I have to say then all the better. I find comfort in music all day everyday, and in my microblogs on twitter (yes yes I know what people think: I'm a geek, whatever). I like to share the love and spread the feeling of comfort over the web. It's not much in the way of the big wide world but hey it's a start. The reason I'm writing about this at all is because over the past six months I've tried to change my viewpoint on things. The major reason behind this quiet epiphany is that I realised through events happening in my family that life is too short to be spent worrying about 'the small things' and that everyday is a chance to be grateful aand to share that gratitude. As it turned out my perspective needed an adjustment, and so I started looking into other ways of thinking. I found one book The Art of Happiness, that was a huge part in giving my outlook the nudge I needed. I think that if you give it a try, as hard as it might seem at first - the result is that the energy you put into the universe is what you get in return.
For example today I am grateful for:
1. mi familia and the ever present sunshine,
3. the beautiful morning I am greeted with,
4. my dear friends who know me inside and out, but they love me anyway (L, Little L, big D and E,
5. the opportunity to do something I love (ie: write and surround myself with music everyday),
6. the music of bob marley and every oldschool rock band that my father listened to when I was growing up.
As a start I'll go with the middle because the beginning, my true beginning was about twenty-two years ago and frankly that's a little too much ground to cover on one blog so I'll start from last week. That's as a good place to start as any.
This said, not long after all this happened a friend of mine let me down and while in the end it wasn't such a big deal overall for me... I just thought that she would have at least stopped to consider my feelings in all this knowing what she knew. I'm not in the least bit angry or hurt, mostly just disappointed given everything that we've been through together, and all the times I was there for her. Sadly, I was mistaken and yet I am once again humbled and grateful for learning something else. I have learned about a new degree of patience and my capacity to forgive. So rather than being angry or bitter or cold, I say thank you. Life is too short for anger or sadness or regrets. However, I owe my regrets for making me the person that I am. To the rest of my friends I say thankyou for being there for me for being around when I truly needed you and giving me support even though I may not have been all that receptive at the time, please don't think your efforts went unnoticed.
To all of you out there in the great wide web 'verse I propose this... Rather than losing your cool, being down on yourself, getting angry or getting even - Get high... as in high-minded. Prove to yourself that you are bigger than petty situations, don't bringyour work home with you, and get through your day with only love and joy in your heart because at the end of the day you'll find that your day is fuller and more worth while. I'll be honest, just like everyone else I don't always get to this point I am only human after all but the fact of the matter is that I try.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
grateful
I revel in this complicated tapestry
In this woven web created you've created for me.
There is only love and it makes me high.
Because love is love.
It surrounds from both below and above
And we're still here
That much is clear
It makes me high-minded, no longer flying blinded
It's time, I've decided
To make a difference
Of meaningful significance
So that you and I can be
All that and more than we see
Here with this universal love we share
We lock it down and expose ourselves bare
Hey you with your harsh outlook
Check it at the door
We've heard it all before
Nothing matters, everything matters
With your thoughts-a-plenty all clatter
Confusion and sadness your mind's erratic
Trying to sort through the static
This is not a tragic
Ending of sorts, despite the reports
But rather it is the start of your new
Point of view
From here always remember, from here till December
From then to whenever.
There is always love.
Today I am grateful for the ever gorgeous sun, for my friends whom I love, and the light in everybody.
Monday, July 20, 2009
a short story...
I sat on the train thinking about it way too much. I poured over every converstaion, every text message and everything in between. We all know how it is. The anxiety and anticipation flowered like milk in black coffee and clung to me like a wet towel. The 'what ifs' and expectations eeked through my conscience like oil. Was this date really a good idea? We were completely different people. We literally did not speak the same language, but did that matter? I didn't think so at the time. It's wonderful how hindsight changes everything. We came from different cultures, different worlds even. Like everyone else I tore this issue into proverbial shreds with my friends. We analysed every possible scenario, angle and detail. With his tongue in his cheek; a friend of mine reminded me that it had been a while since my horizons had last been widened, so to speak. As much as I hated to admit it, he had a point. My reluctance and apprehension quickly evaporated when I thought of Mr A, devilishly handsome and oh so charming as he was.
To be fair I had to give it a shot. On the bright side neither of us would ever have to explain or endure any of those excruciatingly awkward silences. That was the moment when I concluded that the pursuit of modern romance, is to flirt with disaster. It was a cool breezy Brisbane night and it seemed like nothing could possibly go wrong. That was until I locked my keys in my car and had a couple of near misses on my way home. I couldn't say whether it was my driving or my luck. In all honesty it oucld have been either. By the time I got there I barely had enough time to get myself date-ready.
After what felt like a thousand and one styling attempts I decided that hair down was the best way to go, and that the uncomfortable shoes with the fiddly straps would have the most appealing effect. Butterflies and ferrets flitted about my insides like children on crack. I looked at myself in the mirror and said to no one, 'This is as good as it's going to get'.
He parked outside and honked twice. Really? I thought. Is chivalry really dead? He can wait till I'm ready or he can come to the door. After an entire week of fantasising, anticipation and scrutiny, it was finally Date Night. And he was Honking at me? Was there a bumper sticker on my forehead that no one told me about?
When he came to the door it was about six o'clock. Mr A was in fine form with his button-up shirt in my absolute favourite colour, and the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms. It was that troublemaker smile plastered on his face that threw me, it was enough to heat my blood to a gentle simmer.
We walked over to his very shiny car. It was just as we were about to slide in, that the shoes which had my legs looking like they went for days, slid out from underneath me and had me land sheepishly on my derriere. It was definitely one of those days. Utterly embarassed at the way my arms and legs flailed like spastic pool noodles on my way down to meet the sidewalk, I gnawed on my lower lip as I slid inside. In a moment of perfect clarity I childishly I thought to myself, Why do I have to be such a butthead.
The car smelled like his expensive aftershave with the brand name I would never be able to afford. We went for a drive along the river and I laughed as he tried to translate his Turkish tunes into some semblance of speech that I would understand. In our own broken language that sounded almost like English we talked about where we came from and the things that mattered most to us.
I found that we had less in common than I had originally thought. He was a worldly businessman with a love for techy-house music, while I am an aspiring music journalist with barely two cents to rub together. What a couple! Everyone will say. I jeered at myself. I recall wondering whether I could be with someone who didn't like rock music. Despite the lack of common ground between us and the obvious language gap, we got along like two bananas in a very excitable blender.
It was at this point that I reconsidered and asked myself why I had been so worried in the first place. To my surprise our destination was not a ritzy restaurant or a cocktail bar, but rather the local ice-creamery not a stone's throw away from where I work. We shared a kiddy cup size ice-cream, he let me choose the flavours. Over the deliciously decadent ice-cream we talked even more and quickly reached the point where we could sit in silence comfortably, sporadically smiling and marvelling at ourselves and each other. Even with all the misunderstood understandings and the crossed wires and lines, the words cheesy and chemistry came to mind. I found it hard to believe that Mr A, the dream guy by all accounts, was unattached and crazy enough to find a geek like me interesting. It was not long afterwards that we made a move for the cinemas. I stood in front of the ticketbox silently hoping he would not opt for the chick-flick, I desperately hate chick-flicks.
We wound up watching the latest Jim Carrey, after all you cannot possibly go wrong with a good comedy. Then I found myself hoping that I wouldn't laugh so uncontrollably that I'd do that awful donkey/apeish heehaw thing which rises out of me on the odd occasion. I sat there giddy and disbelieving at how well things were turning out in spite of my fanstastic acrobatic display earlier. Evident by some incessant fidgeting, I struggled with the small birds darting back and forth in my stomach.
We reached the point in the movie and the date where each of our hands were inching towards one another on the armrest. Occasionally we would catch each other's eager glances. Then just as Carrey was about to do something truly outrageous/disgusting, Mr A's phone rings. He looked at the small evil glow of the caller-id and his face fell ever so slightly. In that particular instant a strange uh-oh feeling crept up my spine, I fully realised his expression could not have meant a good thing. Slowly and carefully he stood up and as he passed me on his way to take the call, he mumbled something about his wife and a new furniture delivery...