"Parents rarely let go of their children, so children let go of them. They move on. They move away. The moments that used to define them- a mother's approval, a father's nod- are covered by moments of their own accomplishments." - Mitch Albom
It's interesting, the relationship between a parent and a child. Especially after 4 glasses of vino. More so after that child has grown (in more ways than one) and cultivates their own opinions, their own set of beliefs, their own morals, their own political views. While it may be hard for some parents to adjust, I like to believe that they eventually do. That they eventually learn how to accept their child for who they are, instead of fretting about who they think they should be. What's that age old expression? "Things don't always turn out quite like what you had planned?" Or something of the sort? It's true. Especially when growing older is involved. Children don't always act like they're supposed to, dogs don't always listen when called, and muffins don't always turn out perfect when using a recipe. But 'tis life, right? Our reaction to the situation at hand is what matters, even if we don't always think it does.
My father stands as one of the most steadfast Right-winged Christians that I know and (gasp) raised a daughter who made up her mind at the age of 13 to leave this godforsaken town simply to escape the judgmental, Southern Baptist, "honey you should come to church with me on Wednesday" people. You know who I am talking about, those mothers who look like they had one-too-many trips to the tween department in Dillards and simply would never miss a football game, basketball game, baseball game, soccer game, track meet, (because those are the only sports that matter in the South) graduation, booster-club meeting, or any other chance to flaunt their new Coach bag and White-Rain hairdo.
I'm gagging just remembering what they were like. Thankfully, this older version of myself now knows that the majority of them suffer from severe depression and mix Grey Goose with their Xanax because they've internalized their unhappiness and buried it somewhere deep-down beneath their kitchen in suburbia.
Anyways, back to my super duper Conservative Teabagging (the newest development) of a father.
Basically, I had to explain to my over-bearing padre (who some like to say resembles a psycho ex-boyfriend with his never ending calls, texts, emails, etc. ) that I do not and will not side with the Republican party. Not only that, but I do not appreciate his hyper-Conservative emails regarding "Teaparty meetings at 7 at town hall," as well as the ignorant, insulting, and downright irrelevant emails about "halal meat" and how I should beware. Here's a little quote from the latter, "Since Islam teaches dishonesty (taqiyyah) and no regard for one's neighbor, this kind of sickening behavior is standard." I kid you not. That shit was in the email. Ummmm excuse me? Since I didn't believe one word of the forward from some dumbshit in Redneckville, AR, I did a little research. For those of you who also did not know what taqiyyah means, it is defined as, "to save life, honour, or property (either one's own or of other believers) by hiding one's belief or religion." AKA not what the email insinuated.
Long story sorta short?
You can't change people. No matter how hard you try. I guess I'm saying this for all the parents out there who disagree with their children, their lifestyle choices, their opinions. You have to experience and examine the world yourself, so why try and stop others from doing so? Sure, I understand that you want them to make the 'right' decisions and choose the 'right' path, but remember, everything is subjective. And while some parents might believe that by pushing their own beliefs on their children will change them or help them in some way, I'd like to point out that that is rarely the case. Give 'em a chance to think for themselves. Give 'em a chance to utilize the knowledge they've gained throughout their lives, to make their own mistakes. And remember how much more you learned from your own personal mishaps then those of others.
It's like how I remind my parents everyday, "So what if I'm a liberal feminist? I'm not pregnant. I don't have a meth problem. I'm not a pothead. I don't smoke crack. I know the difference between 'your' and 'you're.' And I graduated in 4 years. I think you did a fine job."
Generational differences reside at the core of disagreements in my family today and I'm sure the same goes for others. So be sure to take that into consideration if your child grows up a little differently than what you had planned. Please. Come on man, it's not 1950. Haven't you realized that more women are wearing watches now that they can't always rely on the oven?
"I walked over to the hill where we used to go and sled. There were a lot of little kids there. I watched them flying. Doing jumps and having races. And I thought that all those little kids are going to grow up someday. And all of those little kids are going to do the things that we do. And they will kiss someone someday. But for now, sledding is enough. I think it would be great if sledding were always enough, but it isn't." -Stephen Chbosky
Showing posts with label troubles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label troubles. Show all posts
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Feels Like Rain
"Unless it is Mad, Passionate, Extraordinary Love, it is a waste of time. There are too many mediocre things in life. Love should not be one of them."
Mediocre, adjective
1. of only ordinary or moderate quality; neither good nor bad; barely adequate.
Antonyms: Extraordinary, superior, uncommon, incomparable.
This quote, when applied broadly, really seems to resonate with my life these days. I keep reminding myself of all the times I've heard, "Never settle for less than what you deserve." Yet, what do I deserve? What do we all deserve? What guidelines dictate what each and everyone of us deserves in life? Is is a pure heart? Compassion? Courage? Buddha's eightfold path of right view, right intention, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration?
I had a dispute earlier in the summer and one of the comments really stuck with me. "You act like you're a princess, like you deserve something more." Now, in that moment the princess reference was very insulting, seeing as how he was implying that I expect things to be handed to me on a silver platter or as if I think nothing is ever good enough (neither of which could be farther from the truth) . But now as I look back on that conversation, it reminds me of the whole 'never settle' mantra. I want to go back in time to that night and say, "Yes, you're right. I DO deserve something more." If there's one thing my daddy taught me when I was growing up, it's that I am a special young girl and I deserve to be treated as such. And by golly, if that's too much to ask for in a relationship, then so be it.
We may not know what it is that we deserve (or want for that matter) and we may not find that incomparable love today, tomorrow, or next week, but I am certain that it is out there.
And it will be nothing short than sensational.
Mediocre, adjective
1. of only ordinary or moderate quality; neither good nor bad; barely adequate.
Antonyms: Extraordinary, superior, uncommon, incomparable.
This quote, when applied broadly, really seems to resonate with my life these days. I keep reminding myself of all the times I've heard, "Never settle for less than what you deserve." Yet, what do I deserve? What do we all deserve? What guidelines dictate what each and everyone of us deserves in life? Is is a pure heart? Compassion? Courage? Buddha's eightfold path of right view, right intention, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration?
I had a dispute earlier in the summer and one of the comments really stuck with me. "You act like you're a princess, like you deserve something more." Now, in that moment the princess reference was very insulting, seeing as how he was implying that I expect things to be handed to me on a silver platter or as if I think nothing is ever good enough (neither of which could be farther from the truth) . But now as I look back on that conversation, it reminds me of the whole 'never settle' mantra. I want to go back in time to that night and say, "Yes, you're right. I DO deserve something more." If there's one thing my daddy taught me when I was growing up, it's that I am a special young girl and I deserve to be treated as such. And by golly, if that's too much to ask for in a relationship, then so be it.
We may not know what it is that we deserve (or want for that matter) and we may not find that incomparable love today, tomorrow, or next week, but I am certain that it is out there.
And it will be nothing short than sensational.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Let it Bee
"I wanted to be crazy, and I advise you to be crazy. To be weird. To be unreasonable. That's my favorite one. People are always saying, "Oh, come one, be reasonable!" And I want to shout, "No! I don't want to be reasonable!" I want to be completely unreasonable. I want to change the world. I want to be creative. I want to change the world creatively. And I want other people to be unreasonable with me."
-Matt Goldman
Bees, Bees, Bees. Bees are everywhere today, buzzing around trying to get acclimated to their new environment. What funny little creatures they are, always giving it their all, always going 100%. We could learn a lot from them, that much is certain. And to think, they do it all without Red Bull or those little bottles of liquid crack 5-hour energy drinks.
I think what gets me the most about bees is their name, it doesn't really seem to fit when you actually think about it. The word 'bee', when stripped of all denotative meaning makes me think of behave, being, beep-beep, be. Yet, I've found that bees don't exactly behave properly. They always seem to bee terrorizing me every chance they get and I precede to run away screaming while waving my hands around my head like a mad woman, making me feel a bit embarrassed as my dogs lay there, judging me. They never seem to just be and become situated for more than a few seconds. Did you know that the saying "the bee's knees" was used originally to refer to something as inconsequential? Crazy, huh? The US completely changed the meaning into the opposite sense, which doesn't really surprise me at all.
One thing is for sure though, bees won't ever have to worry about trying to find a job in this disastrous economic climate, lucky them.
Anyways, enough about all these buzzing bees. I guess it all stems from my lack of belonging anywhere right now. I've got this nice shiny diploma that I worked my tail off to get in the traditional 4-year time slot, during which I wholeheartedly believed I would have everything figured out by now. Romanticized dreams of living in a rustic studio with exposed brick walls in a fast-paced city and some wonderful job that fulfilled both my humanitarian and creative side have quite simply, evaporated into thin air.
I've always been a bit uncertain about what I wanted to do with my life, but I never actually believed I would not have it figured out by the time I turned 22. "You're young!" They say, while simultaneously contradicting themselves with the "What are you going to DO with your life?! Well let me tell you ALL about mine then!" The endless babbles regarding what other people did at my age are driving me insane. They come without any premeditated thoughts of "I wonder if telling this young lady about every detail in my life from 22-60 is going to be relevant/helpful/interesting..."
Needless to say, I'm a little irked at how others tend to transform my uncertainty into the equivalent of failure. At how the public has devised this master turmoil for college graduates, for America's youth in general. At how we are treated as inferior, as childish, yet expected to have a life plan that reflects a certain degree of maturity.
We're young, yes, but we're not ignorant.
We don't know it all, but we do know some.
We're passionate, but we're not crazy.
We're curious, but we're not stupid.
We're excited, but we're not unrealistic.
We're spirited, we're capable, we're eager, and we're full of potential.
Let us make our own way.
Let us follow our bliss.
Let us be wrong.
Let us be right.
Let us decide where we belong.
Let us decide who we belong with.
Let us have our say.
Let us be unconventional.
Let us be young.
We are the music makers, and the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers, and sitting by desolate streams.
World-losers and world-forsakers, upon whom the pale moon gleams;
Yet we are the movers and shakers, of the world forever, it seems.
-Matt Goldman
Bees, Bees, Bees. Bees are everywhere today, buzzing around trying to get acclimated to their new environment. What funny little creatures they are, always giving it their all, always going 100%. We could learn a lot from them, that much is certain. And to think, they do it all without Red Bull or those little bottles of liquid crack 5-hour energy drinks.
I think what gets me the most about bees is their name, it doesn't really seem to fit when you actually think about it. The word 'bee', when stripped of all denotative meaning makes me think of behave, being, beep-beep, be. Yet, I've found that bees don't exactly behave properly. They always seem to bee terrorizing me every chance they get and I precede to run away screaming while waving my hands around my head like a mad woman, making me feel a bit embarrassed as my dogs lay there, judging me. They never seem to just be and become situated for more than a few seconds. Did you know that the saying "the bee's knees" was used originally to refer to something as inconsequential? Crazy, huh? The US completely changed the meaning into the opposite sense, which doesn't really surprise me at all.
One thing is for sure though, bees won't ever have to worry about trying to find a job in this disastrous economic climate, lucky them.
Anyways, enough about all these buzzing bees. I guess it all stems from my lack of belonging anywhere right now. I've got this nice shiny diploma that I worked my tail off to get in the traditional 4-year time slot, during which I wholeheartedly believed I would have everything figured out by now. Romanticized dreams of living in a rustic studio with exposed brick walls in a fast-paced city and some wonderful job that fulfilled both my humanitarian and creative side have quite simply, evaporated into thin air.
I've always been a bit uncertain about what I wanted to do with my life, but I never actually believed I would not have it figured out by the time I turned 22. "You're young!" They say, while simultaneously contradicting themselves with the "What are you going to DO with your life?! Well let me tell you ALL about mine then!" The endless babbles regarding what other people did at my age are driving me insane. They come without any premeditated thoughts of "I wonder if telling this young lady about every detail in my life from 22-60 is going to be relevant/helpful/interesting..."
Needless to say, I'm a little irked at how others tend to transform my uncertainty into the equivalent of failure. At how the public has devised this master turmoil for college graduates, for America's youth in general. At how we are treated as inferior, as childish, yet expected to have a life plan that reflects a certain degree of maturity.
We're young, yes, but we're not ignorant.
We don't know it all, but we do know some.
We're passionate, but we're not crazy.
We're curious, but we're not stupid.
We're excited, but we're not unrealistic.
We're spirited, we're capable, we're eager, and we're full of potential.
Let us make our own way.
Let us follow our bliss.
Let us be wrong.
Let us be right.
Let us decide where we belong.
Let us decide who we belong with.
Let us have our say.
Let us be unconventional.
Let us be young.
We are the music makers, and the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers, and sitting by desolate streams.
World-losers and world-forsakers, upon whom the pale moon gleams;
Yet we are the movers and shakers, of the world forever, it seems.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)

































