'Hurts So Good' and other stories on why we do what we do; Part 2

A while back, I posted the following:

"Don't be afraid to hurt or to feel. It reminds you who you are, and that you are."

And I'd forgotten about it, until now. It's true that we are described by our feelings - both physical and emotional - but they are not all that we are. They do not define us. They accent that which is in our very being - but they do not control us.

They are simply that - reminders.


Sometimes we get lost. We think it's worth it. We forget that we are something beyond our hardship - the hurt and the feelings consume us.

Sometimes we bottle everything up - we try to keep it, and remain blank. We lose the thought and introspection that comes with feeling. We want to be stony faced and strong - because somehow emotion weakens us. It makes us vulnerable.

But somewhere in between the two is reality. We do feel, we do hurt - it's a part of life. We are vulnerable beings - giving in to this vulnerability and trusting those who see it is what makes us stronger.

And this is a lesson that I have yet to grasp and live out.
Trust is one of the hardest trials known to man - to unmask everything at lay it at another's feet.

To fully live, we must accept that we must feel. We must embrace our emotions and let them fill even the darkest corners, without letting them consume and take control, leading to irrationality.

To accept that we feel, we must first trust.

To trust...we must leap, or fall, into something uncertain and unknown.

Instead we often hide. We bottle up, or we let too much go to soon.
When will we learn to stand up on two feet?

'Hurts So Good' and other stories on why we do what we do; Part 1

I've had quite a few people tell me in the past few days their lives are described by songs.

"We exchange ourselves and we do it all the time - why do we do that? Why do I do that?"

"I don't care what people say, the rush is worth the price I pay. I get so high when you're with me."

"I can't breathe but I still fight, while I can fight. As long as the wrong feels rights it's like I'm in flight. High off a love and drunk from the hate."

We express ourselves through these words and depictions daily - sometimes subconsciously - finding meaning in art and  music - in lyrics and poems and other people's stories. Because deep down, these connections mean we're not alone - we're not crazy - someone else is feeling the same way too.

And when you look back on it, these lines - these connections - are not happy. They aren't sunshine and daisies. Because, for some reason, we don't need to justify out gladness. We justify our pain. As if we revel in, though we know it's meant to be undesirable, because it somehow defines us; gives us definition - a darker side. We become shaded and shadowed - more than an outline.

Moreover, we seek out our own demons, keeping them just below the surface. We act on our impulses, no matter how detrimental they may be. And we draw on the pain it all provides.

And then we fight it.

It's a fight we can win - it can put us out on top. Because overcoming pain is honorable and courageous - and we praise courage above all else. We become 3-dimensional.

These words that we rely on help us find these battles, and learn what we need to overcome.

But often, we use the words as a hiding place. Rather than finding our own personal darkness and defeating it with the encouragement that we are not alone, we take comfort in the fact that others are going through the same troubles - it becomes normal; t becomes accepted - a uniqueness strengthened by the fact that it has been written about. It's something special. So why fight it? Why let it go? People go through it all the time - "it's just who I am," we say.

So why do we through ourselves away so easily? Why do we seek normalcy in the things that hurt us most? 

As Communication Fades Away:

"But the reality is that we communicate with every part of our being, and there are times when we must use it all. When someone needs us, he or she needs all of us. There’s no text that can replace a loving touch when someone we love is hurting.

We haven’t lost romance in the digital age, but we may be neglecting it. In doing so, antiquated art forms are taking on new importance. The power of a hand-written letter is greater than ever. It’s personal and deliberate means more than an email or text ever will. It has a unique scent. It requires deciphering. But, most important, it’s flawed There are errors in handwriting, punctuation, grammar, and spelling that show our vulnerability. And vulnerability is the essence of romance. It’s the art of being uncalculated, the willingness to look foolish, the courage to say, “This is me, and I’m interested in you enough to show you my flaws with the hope that you may embrace me for all that I am but, more importantly, all that I am not.”

- Ashton Kutcher

*Read the full post here.

I understand now why I was hurting, and why I felt the need to speak my mind. I understand now why I wrote that letter, and why it hurts that it was never sent - that you never read it. I know that I feel all of these things, but they are often unexplainable, and are often accompanied with the feeling of insanity. 

But insanity is often really sanity, masked by the image of modern society, and the expected idea of social normalcy. We all strive for perfect, an unattainable image. We are all crazy. 

It's nice to find some reassurance, some understanding, some repetition of your thoughts in another's words. 

It's the little things we stumble across that give strength through our days. 

Peace and Love. 

Running Away in Love

“A relationship based in love is a constant giving and receiving by each person. You will not lose yourself in a balanced relationship, because the right one for you will also support your needs; it can’t be otherwise.

The key is to pick the right person, and that takes courage. The right person will challenge you. The right person will scare you. The right person will demand the best of you and call you on your inconsistencies. But the right person will also be willing to work through problems when they arise, instead of bailing!”

—

Mastin Kipp, via The Daily Love (via loveisandisnot) I've been on both sides of this. I've been the one running away, but I have also been run out on, and it hurts on either end, truly. But it helps to know that I was escaping something unhealthy - something tearing me apart. I've come to terms with that now, and I have been able to move on and survive. All wounds heal, but it is not the time that heals them. It is the understanding that comes with the time.  Don't be afraid to hurt or to feel - it reminds you who you are, and that you are. It all means something in the end.

Time vs. Definition vs. Understanding

I live to be busy. I love to be busy. “Busy” is generally how I describe myself. 

It’s like self defense. 

If I am busy, I don’t have to think about things. I don’t have to worry about things. I don’t have to plan new things because I don’t have any time. I don’t have to talk to people if I don’t want to, because I have somewhere else to be. 

But lately, I’ve noticed that being busy means I can’t put my heart and soul into anything. Being busy means I have to turn away some opportunities. Being busy means I don’t get to spend time with all the people I want to. Being busy means I miss out on things - on people - on applications - on deadlines - because I have to work on other deadlines. 

It’s like a win-lose situation and I am not really a fan of it. 

But lately, 

I’ve been un-busy. 

I have time to make plans with people and really talk to them - really observe them and hear what they are going through. But I have also had time to think about myself and talk to and observe myself. I know what I am going through too. And I don’t know if I like that either. 

But I am finding more and more that I don’t know who I am. I have spent my whole life defining myself with my busy-ness and my activities - defining myself with my grades and my study habits - that I have rejected numerous personalities that I wish I was simply because I don’t have the time to try. 

But also, why should I want to be somebody else? Why can’t I be happy with the busy self that I have become? Is it because I don’t know where my boundaries are? I don’t know who I am or what I am doing or where I am headed or if I will even get there? Not really. I know where I want to go. I mean, no I don’t know if I will get there and that is scary, but have thrown myself in to the getting there and I am enthralled by the process and I love it.

But I have let so many people define me and label me and I have adopted those labels, even if they were jokes, and now…I am lost in them. Covered by them, and I am drowning and I am trying to escape. 

I just wish I had the time to research and discover and understand myself. I need more than the random moments that I get, or the random things that I discover that help me know and understand. 

I just don’t know where to begin. 

The Little Things, Part 2: Maybe it isn't More than Words

A friend of mine called me pretty yesterday, and apparently that doesn't happen often.

But it wasn't just the fact that he said it that made my day, it was the fact that at that point, I needed to hear it.

Wednesday was a long day. A very long day. I ran a lot of errands that I shouldn't have had to do and dealt with people who were upset with me for reasons over which I have no control. I had a lab class with absolutely no one that I know in it, so it made partner work a little difficult. Especially when paired with one who seems to be either academically impaired, or simply careless about grades. My opinion is on the former, no offense to anyone in particular. But my grades are important and if you can't keep up I will not stop for you. Find someone at your own pace to work with. After a trying lab class, it was strait to work, where I learned that I officially took a $0.60/hr pay cut by becoming a student worker. Not to mention a few excessively annoying people with whom I work breathing down my neck trying to prove themselves as all knowing. I know things too, I promise. That's why you hired me and requested me special for this event. And then, I choked on a rye chip, lost my voice, and felt walked over and under appreciated at my meeting after work.

And honestly, none of these events were incredibly terrible. It was each event on top of the other with no one to vent to, all piled on top of exhaustion after the first week back to class. My optimism was being tested quite harshly.

So, after this day of minor infractions, I trudged home feeling gross and tired and upset. I was in my work clothes, my hair mess, my makeup a mess - just not put together at all. I had just gotten off the phone with a friend, finally allowed to vent and simply get everything out of my system, when I walked up stairs to compliments and smiling faces. It was as simple as that.

All I needed was to be heard, loved, noticed, and appreciated. Sometimes it's nice to know that someone cares or that someone sees you. No one wants to be invisible, and no one wants to deal with things on their own. And even if people do see and do care, when you are having a crappy time with things, it's nice to have that little reminder. And sometimes, where the reminder comes from will take you by surprise, which will make it even better.

And, in the long run, maybe it is the actions that show when someone really truly is there for you and really truly cares. But in passing, you don't notice the actions, or you block them out. You begin to focus on the negative things and you let them get you down, when really all you need are a few kind words to remind you and to set you back on track.

So never hesitate to tell someone what you are thinking - that they look nice, or they are nice, or you love them, or you appreciate them. Show them still through your actions and reach out and care for them, but don't forget to say it to. You never know how much a person needs to hear it.

More Than Words: A Paradox

I think death makes us realize two things:
1. Our words are meaningless
2. Our words have far more meaning than we can comprehend

When someone loses a loved one there is nothing you can say that will take a way the pain. There is nothing you can say that will help them cope easier. Nothing you can say that will help them understand why they are feeling, or help you understand what they are feeling. The most you can do is simply be there for them. Let them vent if they need to vent, cry if they need to cry, hug if they need to hug, or sit if they need to sit. It simply takes time and a whole lot of confusion. But eventually, you cope. You get by. But the words of other people - the "I'm Sorry's," the checking in, the consolation - are all simply protocol, simply respectful. They don't mean much beyond that.

But as difficult as it is to find the right thing to say, it is far easier to find the wrong thing to say. At that point in emotional instability, everything connects back to the death or the source of pain. Dates are sensitive - what if it's a birthday? Or a memory? Or an event that they would have attended? Causation of death is sensitive - what if you usually joke about drugs and alcohol, but that was the cause of death? You can't keep asking how a person feels if it is a constant reminder that they feel like shit. You can't make jokes about death, or off h anded comments that you would normally make. Everything you say must be analyzed and filtered depending on how it might affect the one who has lost, and even then, you miss things. You say the wrong thing and it sends them spiraling.

So what do you do? These are things that we never think of. We simply talk, no filter. We know what we can say around our friends, what we can say around our colleagues, and what we can say in public. We tend to be aware of what is appropriate to say in certain situations. But death rolls in and all is lost. We are thrown in to this confusion of how we are to react to certain things, or what we should say to prevent certain reactions.

I think that, ultimately, we are not as aware as we think we are. Death intensifies everything. So, if something affects us after death, it is an intensification of how we would have felt before. But we brush things off, and we bury things. We don't let others see how we are feeling, and we let certain things slide that we should not. It's the only way that we can get through the world without going mad.

My point, then, is also a paradox.
1. Don't sweat it. You can only control so much of what you say, be it necessary or accidental. You will never be able to anticipate every reaction to everything you say, and if it falls badly, be it unintentional, all you can do is apologize and make note not to slip up the same way in the future.
2. Be considerate. Remember that everything you say can affect the people around you in multiple ways. You have the potential to tear a person down simply using words, but it is not something that should be done often or intentionally. Simply recognizing that what you say can cause problems is not enough - the recognition should create a change and an effort to be a better person.

And that goes beyond words. It goes every aspect of life.

Peace and Love.