Have a Happy Supernateral Halloween
by Olivia Carol McMichael on Sunday, October 25, 2009 at 9:42pm
Okay so first, before you read this, I have not fabricated, or elaborated any of the following stories you are about to read. I have added some detail, and given in a feel for the creepy, but only to encapsulate the mood of these tails… These are all personal encounters I had had with the supernatural. I have also heard a fair share of true stories from other people, all which lead me to firmly believe in the Supernatural, which makes Halloween a favorite holiday. The other reason I love this time of year is because it brings back alot of fond memories of my mother sewing and making us the best and most elaborate costumes for my sister and I. My mom is the best! She would seriously drive us to like 5 plus neighborhoods in one night, one to show off her awesome costumes, two to make me and my sister the happiest trick or treaters in the state of Georgia with at least a half a years supply of candy! But back to the point, what do we think of in lieu of Halloween? Riiiight ghosts, and what more? Ghost stories, and other things of the unseen nature... WHA AH AH... so sit back with some hot apple cider and let the tales begin!
Growing up I always knew I was a little different, not like the kid in the sixth sense. I didn’t see dead people, I would just more or less see the effects of the unseen. When I was a child I had an odd feeling about my basement, and because we used the space quiet frequently, I would have to piddle down the green carpeted stairs from time to time to retrieve a toy or book I may have left in it’s cavernous space. So one evening while about half way down the stairs as I stared into the dark vastness of the area, I reached for the light, but just before I did, I heard something or someone call out my name, “Olivia” Without hesitation I turned around and bolted up the stairs to tell my sister. I had forgotten about this occurrence until recently when my sister jogged my memory, and all the details of the basement story flooded into my head. I still have dreams about that basement till this day.
Another story was when I was seven, something that I remember as clearly as it happened yesterday, and one of the reasons why I believe in guardian angels. I went to the pool party of a boy named Quincy, who I had a major crush on, his house was huge, placed atop a hill with a very steep driveway. Once there, I changed into my bathing suit, only to learn for the first time in my life that you don’t wear you underwear under your bathing suit, lol. After changing (correctly) I headed out, a bunch of the kids where in the hot tub, of which I had no interest. I wanted to go in the pool before anyone else did, because I didn’t want to admit that I couldn’t swim to save my life (because of embarrassment). So I looked at the diving board, stood on it for a while, and decided I didn’t have a death wish that day, so I when to the other end of the pool, where there were some floaty things. I hopped on a white long rectangular floaty, but the thing did not support my weight, (later realized it was a toy meant for people who could at least paddle) and I dropped like a rock to the bottom of the pool. My lungs quickly filling with water, I passed out, saw a burst of light, and then saw my own body floating lifeless in the pool. I looked past my body and saw a set of grooved steps in the cement siding of the pool, something one would not be able to see standing outside of the pool. In a second I had snapped back into my body, and moved to where I had seen the grooves (in my out of body state), and literally pulled myself out of the water. Once out, I was spitting up water, no one was around, no parents, nothing, so I had no witnesses. When my mother came to pick me up, I told her I almost died, and she didn’t really seem to pay much attention, I mean how do you tell your mom “I just had an out of body experience today that saved me from certain doom mom.” Call it a chemical reaction, but then tell me how I knew about the grooves in the side of the pool to pull myself out? There is no other explanation than spiritual intervention.
About six years later when I was about 12 or so, I had a completely different spiritual experience while home alone. I was watching television when out my peripheral vision, I spied my white patent leather tote rise from the adjacent sofa and into the air. I quickly jerked my head to look, and it dropped back instantly onto the couch. I stood up and felt (what I would describe as) a mild gust of chilly wind pass over my shoulders, and I knew there was something else in the house with me. I walked into my room, and clearly stated out loud “if you have something to say, do it!” And there in my room, a music box that had not been touched for months began to play. I picked it up as it played and it stopped. I tried to rationalize for a while, telling myself, maybe I was just spooked being home alone, maybe I just thought I saw the purse raise and fall… I also examined the box, there was no good reason why it should have played out of nowhere, it was old, and the knob itself was hard to turn in both directions. I also checked around for open windows to explain the cold wind. But nothing could explain this strange occurrence.
This one I don’t tell a lot of people, cause it might just be in my head, but shortly after my Uncle passed away, the phone rang one day. I swear the man on the phone sounded just like my Uncle Pat. He asked if he could speak to Jack (my father, his brother), and I told him he was out, and asked if I could take a message. There was a long pause, he said, “No, just tell him an old friend called.” I felt a shiver run down my spine, and at that moment I though of Pat. Till this day I really think it was his last phone call.
As the years passed, I always felt like I was connected to this world that I couldn’t see, that somehow these things tried to contact me, in some odd ways shape and forms. Although I have never seen an apparition, this next story without a doubt made me a firm believer in a spiritual world. If you are easily spooked, and the other stories scared you, I advise you not to read further.
My first year of college at SVA, I dormed at the G-Dub or George Washington building on 23rd and Lexington. I had a single room, and found out later on that the building was once an old folks home, where many people had passed away, and it had also been renovated a couple times, which any good ghost hunter knows, always drudges up what once was living. One night while lying on my stomach, I felt what felt like a hand move it’s way up my right arm. It was clammy, and touched slowly from my elbow up to my shoulder. I sprang up in my bed with a jolt, and said “Go AWAY!” and continued to repeat, “go away” throwing the covers over my head with my heart pounding at the inside of my chest. The following night, the same thing happened, except this time I laid there frozen with fear. And suddenly what felt like an animal or person pushed hard or (what felt like it) jumped on the bed, and I sprang from the bed and the room. Eventually I returned to go to bed, I mean where was I gonna go? But I swear to you, I was completely sober when these things happened, and shortly after began to regularly pray and burn sage in my room.
I think the most faith affirming instance happened however my junior year of college, when I went to visit my family, and my mother and I were in a near fatal accident. When my mother was pulled from the car, I cannot explain it, perhaps it was shock, but given my other supernatural experiences, I knew it was not. But I promise till this day there was a warm pinkish glow surrounding my mothers head (where her injury was) while she lay on the grass next to the car. When they strapped us to the stretchers, we held hands in the ambulance the whole way to Grady Hospital, and I prayed, somehow feeling this intense calm, I knew we were not alone in that ambulance, and I can’t explain it other than I could feel what some might describe as a “divine presence.” My mother almost died because of that accident, she lost 60% of her blood, the doctors said her survival was a true miracle. I have never doubted God, angels or my faith since then.
My last and more memorable encounter was with my friend David. This was when I lived in New York, Brooklyn to be exact, and one night we were doing some routine TV watching, when out of nowhere an object (I think a DVD box) levitated from the entertainment center to the desk. This was in clear view, no mistaking, both of us saw it, this thing moved from one location to the other. About 10 seconds later I said “ummm did you see…” as he cut me off saying “don’t say anything.” I was like “um, but…” and he made a good point that if we made notice of it, they would do more crap like that. Not that it stopped them, more often than not after doing the dishes I would leave, only to later hear my cups smashing to the floor for no good reason. I would come into the kitchen and there they would be. A cup that had been placed far away from the counter, in fact they had been placed on the drying wrack in a sturdy manner, than had been lifted and then smashed on the floor. I simply assumed it was some ghost who didn’t like the way I kept my kitchen. I remembered however, it’s best not to try and communicate with the ghosts… lol. Another strange thing that happened alot while living in that apartment was the sounds of little childrens feet and giggling in the apartment above us. For the longest time I simply assumed it was someones kids. But there were other strange loud construction type sounds that would also come from the same upstairs apartment, so one day I got curious. Not cause I was frustrated with the noise, but just cause I had never seen proof of renovations or children coming from upstairs. When I knocked on the door, two really nice guys (who offered me Pepsi) answered the door. They were the only ones to lived there. I asked them about the children running and the construction noises, but they didn't know how to explain it either. I asked if they ever had family over, like kids... nada... They said they both had office jobs in the city and often didn't come home to late, and were usually out on the weekends. Neither one of them had heard any strange construction type noises from next door or anywhere, and no one could explain the sounds of kids feet. I think all three of us were a bit spooked. Cause there were single men, who I am sure didn't run around the house acting like five year olds giggling.
Now after those experiences, some were powerful enough to make me watch my back, and learn a few tricks on how to protect myself from all types of unseen forces. And I will share a few tricks with you. If you want to absorb negative energy in your home, due to bad spirits or what not cut some lemons in half, put them in every corner of your home, and then after a day or a few hours put them in a bag (make sure to use paper, more earth friendly), and bury the bag. If you want to get rid of evil spirits or ones that just like to mess with you, burn some sage for cleansing, and say a few prayers. And if you have any other questions, feel free to send me an e-mail. And if you think all this is a bunch of Hocus Pocus, well then you have never obviously dealt with stories of this nature, and I don’t blame you for thinking I am a nutters… either way… :) Happy Halloween everybody!
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
Is this Strange?
Is this strange?
by Olivia Carol McMichael on Friday, July 23, 2010 at 8:54am
I have had alot of pets in my life, but my cat Mishima seems to take the cake. I think we have this strange bond that I cannot explain. Perhaps it's cause she's been by my side through this entire pregnancy, (and yes so has my husband), but she has kept me company through so much this year. Hangs with me in my studio when I paint, watches me when I make jewelry, I pretty much talk to her as I would anyone, and that's probably why she acts like a little human sometimes, and talks (in a cat way) to me as much as she does.
At first when I moved in with Jason I wasn't sure how she would take to me, but almost instantly I felt like this is a cool kitty. Over the many months of me being home to snuggle with her and watch too many movies with her, we have formed a special human to animal bond that I don't think I have ever had with another animal, and although I have loved many a pet, there is something special about her fluffly little self.
If it weren't for Jason I would probably have wound up the crazy artist lady with her cats, as I have always loved cats since childhood, and woulnd't talk to my parents for about a week when I huffed around the house wanting a cat and they said no. My sister and I even tried to get a free kitty for me, but we were kids, what were we thinking? We would call up the adds in the paper for free kitties and they'd be like, ummm how old are you?
When I moved to NY I got the luxury of loving everyone elses cat, Kristens cat Nikkita, and then Alexes cat Dasha. But never ever had I had a kitty of my very own. So when Jason asked if I wanted a cat before I moved down, I was like "YES!"
Granted my cat is extra cute and fluffy, but really she is just perfect for me, she suits my personality, even though of course there are times when I am like "Mishima! What are you doing???!!!"
Anyway being away this week, I have had two dreams about my cat. Both very telling of either how much I miss her, or perhaps because of some weird bond we share? Jason told me when I was on the phone, everytime I would talk she would inch a little towards the phone kinda looking around, like "where is she?"
Every morning when I get out of bed and walk out of the room Mishima meows and meows until I pick her up, give her a hug and scratch her fuzzy haunches,as she gives me kitty kisses, now if that aint love I don't know what is.
Appreciate and Understand
Appreciate and understand
by Olivia Carol McMichael on Saturday, May 15, 2010 at 3:51pm
I am appreciating today the things I cannot understand. And understanding things I cannot appreciate. And understanding things that need to be appreciated.
Anyway I understand that when a person doesn't call it doesn't mean they don't care, I appreciate that when a person does call it means the world to me, and I hope they understand how much the second of their time is appreciated by me.
I understand that when a person is busy it’s nice not to bother them, but trust me when I say they appreciate it when you do bother them because it reminds them that you are in their thoughts…
I understand that people are flaky, that I have been flaky, and that eventually you gotta try to set some time aside for friends and family, even if you are super preoccupied with your own life, and appreciate that if you don't try to reach out in the end no one will be around at all.
I understand that no one can ever fully understand another persons pain, loss, or whatever it may be, and I appreciate the fact that there isn't any advice one can say to that person to make it better, sometimes it's better just to encourage them that they will make it through, that they are strong, and that the crap they have gotten through so far is an accomplishment in itself.
I understand that opinions are sometimes unwanted, but appreciate that they generally come from a place of concern and care, and should not be taken offensively, unless of course they called your a bitch or some other derogatory name in the process...
I understand that e-mail does not take the place of a phone call, and a phone call does not take the place of a visit, and to me it will never be as meaningful, but I appreciate that in this day and age texting and e-mail are an alternative when you can't be there or are at work. However I also understand that if texting had been invented before the phone conversation, that people would much prefer to hear a real voice, as apposed to reading some hackey text or e-mail that doesn't completely convey how someone is really feeling. Your message will never be as well received unless it is heard in the inflections in your voice, and that's something to appreciate.
I understand that people will always have issues with family members, but appreciate that it's important to be supportive of those people and give them the love they deserve non-the less.
I understand that my life is different from what it used to be, more lonely, maybe less exciting to the masses, but I appreciate that I would not be here or who I am today without it, and that I wouldn't trade the changes I have made to be back in the mayhem and hectic swing I used to be in.
I appreciate that God doesn't give us any challenge we can't handle, but I understand that you don’t have to enjoy it, and there is no shame in saying you hate the circumstances... Hello, it is a challenge!
On that note, I understand the need to vent, but also appreciate when gratitude is deserved and that good things in life should be recognized equally.
I understand love, and I appreciate that you don’t have to love everything about someone to love them.
I understand that it's okay if I don't appreciate the kind of art that gets famous, cause I understand and appreciate that most of it is crap and that those people knew someone who knew someone like 70% of the time, and that I don't have to appreciate that. lol
I appreciate the power of prayer, but I understand that answers are not in my time.
I appreciate when someone is doing well, but I don't have to understand why others suffer.
by Olivia Carol McMichael on Saturday, May 15, 2010 at 3:51pm
I am appreciating today the things I cannot understand. And understanding things I cannot appreciate. And understanding things that need to be appreciated.
Anyway I understand that when a person doesn't call it doesn't mean they don't care, I appreciate that when a person does call it means the world to me, and I hope they understand how much the second of their time is appreciated by me.
I understand that when a person is busy it’s nice not to bother them, but trust me when I say they appreciate it when you do bother them because it reminds them that you are in their thoughts…
I understand that people are flaky, that I have been flaky, and that eventually you gotta try to set some time aside for friends and family, even if you are super preoccupied with your own life, and appreciate that if you don't try to reach out in the end no one will be around at all.
I understand that no one can ever fully understand another persons pain, loss, or whatever it may be, and I appreciate the fact that there isn't any advice one can say to that person to make it better, sometimes it's better just to encourage them that they will make it through, that they are strong, and that the crap they have gotten through so far is an accomplishment in itself.
I understand that opinions are sometimes unwanted, but appreciate that they generally come from a place of concern and care, and should not be taken offensively, unless of course they called your a bitch or some other derogatory name in the process...
I understand that e-mail does not take the place of a phone call, and a phone call does not take the place of a visit, and to me it will never be as meaningful, but I appreciate that in this day and age texting and e-mail are an alternative when you can't be there or are at work. However I also understand that if texting had been invented before the phone conversation, that people would much prefer to hear a real voice, as apposed to reading some hackey text or e-mail that doesn't completely convey how someone is really feeling. Your message will never be as well received unless it is heard in the inflections in your voice, and that's something to appreciate.
I understand that people will always have issues with family members, but appreciate that it's important to be supportive of those people and give them the love they deserve non-the less.
I understand that my life is different from what it used to be, more lonely, maybe less exciting to the masses, but I appreciate that I would not be here or who I am today without it, and that I wouldn't trade the changes I have made to be back in the mayhem and hectic swing I used to be in.
I appreciate that God doesn't give us any challenge we can't handle, but I understand that you don’t have to enjoy it, and there is no shame in saying you hate the circumstances... Hello, it is a challenge!
On that note, I understand the need to vent, but also appreciate when gratitude is deserved and that good things in life should be recognized equally.
I understand love, and I appreciate that you don’t have to love everything about someone to love them.
I understand that it's okay if I don't appreciate the kind of art that gets famous, cause I understand and appreciate that most of it is crap and that those people knew someone who knew someone like 70% of the time, and that I don't have to appreciate that. lol
I appreciate the power of prayer, but I understand that answers are not in my time.
I appreciate when someone is doing well, but I don't have to understand why others suffer.
A year ago (originally written July 4rth 2010)
So a year ago this weekend was my last weekend in New York. It's been a year now since I said my farewells and goodbyes to some of my closest friends, and people whom I have infinite and unforgettable memories with. Many funny memories, many trying memories, but all that have brought me to this place in my life right now.
It's wild to think only a year ago I was finishing up a great part time nanny job with a terrific family, and packing up my apartment one last time in New York, cause as most New Yorkers know, you probably move around a good bit, trying to find a better apartment, or lower rent. Living in New York for 7 years really changed me in so many ways. It made me wiser, stronger, more understanding, probably more patient person, if that's possible, lol.
I never intended to live in NY forever, although I did consider it home while I lived there. It was one of the only places where I felt 100% comfortable. Maybe sometimes unhinged, but always myself. Always able to meet and make new friends without a hitch. The place where I could go to my local hangouts on nights when I felt lonely and run into a group of people who would welcome me with good food and good music. Call up a friend after work for a cup of coffee in Union Square, or drop by a friends place without making solid plans after running some errands. A place where when I walked down the street after a long day of work or whatever, I could look around me and say, I live here, this is what is normal, this is what I like. But over the years, and before I met Jason, I had a very challenging time. Events and circumstances I am glad I was able to scrape out of, and then a complete rediscovery of who I was. I began to reexamine what it was in life that I really wanted, what kind of person I would want to share that life with, and no one seemed ready to fit that bill. Getting in touch with your inner psychic also never hurts.
The busy life was good for me, and quiet often to miss the bee mentality, but I knew a change was coming.
I was torn between a life of fun and spontaneous outings, and a life that I envied that other people had. A simpler life, not less exciting, but exciting in a different way. I would look at photos of friends with there new families and realize how much I wanted that. Eventually I realized, that might not be my path, might not have been what was truly meant to be. But I also didn't know if being one of a billion alternative Brooklyn artist (who never seem to wash their hair) was my thing either... Not that it's not cool to do so, but you know what I mean.
It's funny to me because so many people in New York think they are different, living this alternative lifestyle that so few do, I too felt this way for a long while, when in reality I think I know more (if not just as many) people living that kind of life, than owning homes and raising families. Both having their qualities and merit, but not one or the other I think is really that much harder or more adventurous... I will maybe write a blog about that another time... I guess it's easier for me to see this, because I have done a bit of both now.
Anyway... Before I met Jason I decided I wanted to leave NY, and kinda gave up on finding the person I would spend my life with, considering different paths, and just being content with whatever. But then one holiday vacation while trying very hard to mind my own business at a Bath and Body works, a random moment changed everything as I would know it. Taking me away from all the comforts of my big city home.
I remember my last night out in the city with my friends, it was a good one, we went to Nice Guy Eddies, down in my faved area, the lower east side, had a couple drinks, and some dancing. It was one of the hardest moments of my life when it was time to head home and get some sleep for the long move ahead of us. Jason and I hailed a taxi, and I think I probably bawled my eyes out the whole way. But after I calmed down, I looked at my engagement ring, only a few days prior Jason had proposed to me by the Hudson River, at night, with all the twinkling lights watching us. Looking at this symbol of a promise close to follow, I realized, nothing can take away the excitement of this new journey. And while the journey has been different, and I miss my friends more often than not, I wouldn't change a thing. Unless of course changing something meant I could own my own island and put everyone I love on it...
I suppose most of the time, I don't see life as good or bad, right or wrong, I just see it as life. I don't think life is better or worse, I think it's just different, because life changes, and the things you experience are either more exciting or less exciting or just a different kind of exciting.
So this year my big adventure is having a kid. It's probably one of the scariest and most exciting things I have ever done in my life. And trust me I have been through some scary things in my life, lol. I think it's obviously annoying when people tell you your life will never be the same again (after having kids). It's like really??? No shit Sherlock. It's like the biggest cliche in the book too, I mean don't people get how dumb they sound when they say that? I swear if I ever say that to someone who is younger than me after I have my baby, will someone do me the favor of punching me? I mean no duh... life will NOT be the same... And maybe that's the point? Maybe I wanted children for just that reason. Cause without change, life is boring (to me anyway). I mean am I supposed to wait another 5-10 years? Will it make the change easier somehow? And isn't it kinda insulting to say that life with children will never be normal again? Isn't having kids like one of the most natural and normal things that can happen to a woman? How would I not be normal afterwards? I mean life changes? Our bodies change. Does that mean I am handicapped? I am not losing an arm or a leg am I?
When you were 18 no one warned you before you went off to college did they? NO they told you it was going to be awesome, no one said HEY life is gonna change forever, or make it sound ominous did they? No they acted like being around and becoming an alcoholic for the next 4 years of your life was gonna be the best time of your life. They pat you on the back and sent on your clueless way. GEEZ, I often wish people had told me when I went off to college, your life will change forever in a doomsday way, cause seriously, I might could have avoided some mistakes... No one told me, enjoy your flawless body cause you will never be 18 and 100 pounds again... Or use that excessive energy wisely because when you turn 25 you will suddenly feel the earths pull on those resources. Not ONE person told me, hey you might have some crappy ass roomates your first semester so be prepared to want to gouge someones eye balls out for the first time in your life and have to have a group of friends move all your crap for you cause you are dying from a flu in the dead of winter!
Ahhh oh well again that's another rant... Back to what I was saying.
I can't truly compare my life in NY to my life now in GA because neither one is better or worse, just completely different. My life in GA is however better to me in one respect. That I do not have to ask myself, when will I be loved? When will I finally meet that person I am supposed to share this life with? I do not have to question our commitment to one another. And for some people that might seem presumptuous, because no one knows what the future holds, but that is what my life holds right now, and that is what matters. I don't wonder "how old will I be when I have children?", a question I wondered for a long time, or wonder "will I ever have children?" I could live anywhere with Jason and feel the way I do now. My location would not make it better or worse, because life hands you challenges wherever you go, and wherever you are. You will be faced with self doubt or overwhelming self confidence. And how it's handled has nothing to do with where you are, it's what you decided to do with it. You can live in the most happening town, but if you aren't making anything happen, what's the difference if you lived in a small town?
Anyway, the point I guess of all my dribble, is that happiness is a state of mind, not a state of place. I have said that before, and I will always stand by it. And although I miss NY still, and the wonderful people I know up there, I know my life is just as exciting here enjoying my 4th of July with my now husband and baby to be.
It's wild to think only a year ago I was finishing up a great part time nanny job with a terrific family, and packing up my apartment one last time in New York, cause as most New Yorkers know, you probably move around a good bit, trying to find a better apartment, or lower rent. Living in New York for 7 years really changed me in so many ways. It made me wiser, stronger, more understanding, probably more patient person, if that's possible, lol.
I never intended to live in NY forever, although I did consider it home while I lived there. It was one of the only places where I felt 100% comfortable. Maybe sometimes unhinged, but always myself. Always able to meet and make new friends without a hitch. The place where I could go to my local hangouts on nights when I felt lonely and run into a group of people who would welcome me with good food and good music. Call up a friend after work for a cup of coffee in Union Square, or drop by a friends place without making solid plans after running some errands. A place where when I walked down the street after a long day of work or whatever, I could look around me and say, I live here, this is what is normal, this is what I like. But over the years, and before I met Jason, I had a very challenging time. Events and circumstances I am glad I was able to scrape out of, and then a complete rediscovery of who I was. I began to reexamine what it was in life that I really wanted, what kind of person I would want to share that life with, and no one seemed ready to fit that bill. Getting in touch with your inner psychic also never hurts.
The busy life was good for me, and quiet often to miss the bee mentality, but I knew a change was coming.
I was torn between a life of fun and spontaneous outings, and a life that I envied that other people had. A simpler life, not less exciting, but exciting in a different way. I would look at photos of friends with there new families and realize how much I wanted that. Eventually I realized, that might not be my path, might not have been what was truly meant to be. But I also didn't know if being one of a billion alternative Brooklyn artist (who never seem to wash their hair) was my thing either... Not that it's not cool to do so, but you know what I mean.
It's funny to me because so many people in New York think they are different, living this alternative lifestyle that so few do, I too felt this way for a long while, when in reality I think I know more (if not just as many) people living that kind of life, than owning homes and raising families. Both having their qualities and merit, but not one or the other I think is really that much harder or more adventurous... I will maybe write a blog about that another time... I guess it's easier for me to see this, because I have done a bit of both now.
Anyway... Before I met Jason I decided I wanted to leave NY, and kinda gave up on finding the person I would spend my life with, considering different paths, and just being content with whatever. But then one holiday vacation while trying very hard to mind my own business at a Bath and Body works, a random moment changed everything as I would know it. Taking me away from all the comforts of my big city home.
I remember my last night out in the city with my friends, it was a good one, we went to Nice Guy Eddies, down in my faved area, the lower east side, had a couple drinks, and some dancing. It was one of the hardest moments of my life when it was time to head home and get some sleep for the long move ahead of us. Jason and I hailed a taxi, and I think I probably bawled my eyes out the whole way. But after I calmed down, I looked at my engagement ring, only a few days prior Jason had proposed to me by the Hudson River, at night, with all the twinkling lights watching us. Looking at this symbol of a promise close to follow, I realized, nothing can take away the excitement of this new journey. And while the journey has been different, and I miss my friends more often than not, I wouldn't change a thing. Unless of course changing something meant I could own my own island and put everyone I love on it...
I suppose most of the time, I don't see life as good or bad, right or wrong, I just see it as life. I don't think life is better or worse, I think it's just different, because life changes, and the things you experience are either more exciting or less exciting or just a different kind of exciting.
So this year my big adventure is having a kid. It's probably one of the scariest and most exciting things I have ever done in my life. And trust me I have been through some scary things in my life, lol. I think it's obviously annoying when people tell you your life will never be the same again (after having kids). It's like really??? No shit Sherlock. It's like the biggest cliche in the book too, I mean don't people get how dumb they sound when they say that? I swear if I ever say that to someone who is younger than me after I have my baby, will someone do me the favor of punching me? I mean no duh... life will NOT be the same... And maybe that's the point? Maybe I wanted children for just that reason. Cause without change, life is boring (to me anyway). I mean am I supposed to wait another 5-10 years? Will it make the change easier somehow? And isn't it kinda insulting to say that life with children will never be normal again? Isn't having kids like one of the most natural and normal things that can happen to a woman? How would I not be normal afterwards? I mean life changes? Our bodies change. Does that mean I am handicapped? I am not losing an arm or a leg am I?
When you were 18 no one warned you before you went off to college did they? NO they told you it was going to be awesome, no one said HEY life is gonna change forever, or make it sound ominous did they? No they acted like being around and becoming an alcoholic for the next 4 years of your life was gonna be the best time of your life. They pat you on the back and sent on your clueless way. GEEZ, I often wish people had told me when I went off to college, your life will change forever in a doomsday way, cause seriously, I might could have avoided some mistakes... No one told me, enjoy your flawless body cause you will never be 18 and 100 pounds again... Or use that excessive energy wisely because when you turn 25 you will suddenly feel the earths pull on those resources. Not ONE person told me, hey you might have some crappy ass roomates your first semester so be prepared to want to gouge someones eye balls out for the first time in your life and have to have a group of friends move all your crap for you cause you are dying from a flu in the dead of winter!
Ahhh oh well again that's another rant... Back to what I was saying.
I can't truly compare my life in NY to my life now in GA because neither one is better or worse, just completely different. My life in GA is however better to me in one respect. That I do not have to ask myself, when will I be loved? When will I finally meet that person I am supposed to share this life with? I do not have to question our commitment to one another. And for some people that might seem presumptuous, because no one knows what the future holds, but that is what my life holds right now, and that is what matters. I don't wonder "how old will I be when I have children?", a question I wondered for a long time, or wonder "will I ever have children?" I could live anywhere with Jason and feel the way I do now. My location would not make it better or worse, because life hands you challenges wherever you go, and wherever you are. You will be faced with self doubt or overwhelming self confidence. And how it's handled has nothing to do with where you are, it's what you decided to do with it. You can live in the most happening town, but if you aren't making anything happen, what's the difference if you lived in a small town?
Anyway, the point I guess of all my dribble, is that happiness is a state of mind, not a state of place. I have said that before, and I will always stand by it. And although I miss NY still, and the wonderful people I know up there, I know my life is just as exciting here enjoying my 4th of July with my now husband and baby to be.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Stories, realities, and metaphors: A look back at High School
There are many shades of life, for vision, sun protection, or simple fanshionista purposes. You might feel a brand new pair of shades fits the contours of your face unlike any pair ever before. And even if you have a sack full of completely competent shades, the new ones you have found still feel superior perched on your nose. In films and stories shades can be the helping hand for many a super hero, spy, and or a fabulous 80’s icon. I have worn many shades through my life, but as time goes by, my face has grown, and matured, in fact many of my shades (or sunglasses) have either gone amiss, or acquired scratches to the point where I had to buy new ones. When I was a child I owned a pair of rose-colored heart shaped glasses, which served no purpose other than to style my Charmkins (google 80’s toys Charmkins); no protection from UV rays or even basic shading for viewing purposes. In High School I was obsessed with funky eyewear, I knew with the right sunglasses my confidence level was strangely boosted. I once had a pair of sleek black rimmed frames with blue tinted shades that I loved, only because the crush of my life commented on how “cool” they were in the parking lot of a Waffle House one day. I had another pair of large round Audrey Hepburn style glasses, except they were designed with clear ruby red plastic frames and clear blue lenses. I’d purchased them in Little Five Points, only to leave them by accident on the top of my friend Mikalees car one day; as we drove off I was so pissed. In college (SVA) I had a favorite pair of DKNY shades that were actually damaged in a near fatal car accident with my mother. So I tried to buy some knock off brands of glasses in Chinatown, which looked hip for style, but would easily fall apart. For several years now I have loved and owned a pair of Tommy glasses, with big huge brown lenses and brown/cream colored frames. The hue of my life however has always been full of glamour, just like the glasses, except I saw the world a little differently through each tinted pair.
I suppose I have always looked at life in shades and tints, shapes and colors, and I often wonder, does anyone, will anyone, ever see life like I do? In High School I presented a speech at the Baccalaureate, (basically a pre-graduation ceremony). It felt good standing up in front of peers and strangers, choking on my own words with genuine emotion about the way I saw the world. Before that speech, I never had much identity in High School. I mean everyone knew of me, but not many people really knew what I was about, other than that art chick who wondered the halls with her walkman permanently affixed to here head. Mostly I was just trying to tune out the masses of people until classes commenced. I was a little less strange than (for example) Laney Boggs from “She’s all that”, except Freddy Prince never asked me out, and my shining moment in HS was not because of some guy who helped me see my inner beauty and trudged me out of my shell, I had to that on my own. Actually… that’s a lie, it’s cause of my mother.
My mother and I went to some parent teacher thing one evening towards the end of my senior year (rather she dragged me kicking and screaming). I was sitting bored off my rocker in the auditorium, probably pulling hairs out of my head, or picking a the dry cuticles of my nails, listening to what sounded like the “whah whah whah” of Charley Browns teacher. Then there was some mention about trying out for graduation speeches, afterwards my mother said, “You could do that?” I was thinking, "What? Work on a speech, only to have it turned down?” Like when I submitted work for the HS newspaper? No thanks, I didn’t really need extra rejection in the grand scheme of my public schooling days.
But my mother, who knew me very well (and read a lot of my writing apparently behind my back) felt I had the chops to present a kick-ass speech for graduation. However, I knew the school only really picked the “smart kids” who got like 3.5 GPA’s. Yet despite my bitter outlook on the politics of school, I did it anyway, for my mother. I presented my original speech in front of Coach Bounds, Coach Seals, and a camcorder. I didn’t get to speak at graduation (surprise), but because my writing was (in fact so) good I got to speak at the Baccalaureate. It was Coach Bounds who told me he wished I could have spoken at the graduation, but that because of the limited amount of time, and other people who were designated to speak (AKA the politics of HS hierarchy), there was no way to fit me in to the program. So that’s how I wound up speaking at the Baccalaureate.
For those of you who missed out on my monumental analogy of life (sarcasm), I will try to recap it here. Basically my whole life, and life since HS I have always viewed the world and myself in it as one large painting that I create. I can paint over places I have been to show where I am now, or remove and replace people who’ve come and gone from the image of my life, and so forth. I can paint scars or take them away, I can show hurt, and replace it with a happy aftermath. It’s kinda a brilliant way to see life really, the ever-changing canvas, and an eternally moving image in paint. Sometimes people ask me, “How do you know when one of your paintings is done?” I tell them, because it will look on the canvas how I envisioned it in my head. And that is how life is to me, and why the picture always changes. Because I want my life to be how I envision it to be. As we grow we change, and may want different things, and new circumstances can come into our lives that we enjoy, so we want to add to the vision. So that is why the painting in my mind is never complete. I am always creating it. Which is ultimately what my speech conveyed: That we are all artists, because “we are the creators of our own lives.” We each have a painting that we are constantly redrawing, adding onto, taking things away from, etc.... It was (if I say so myself) a lovely little speech that I put a lot of thought into. Before I gave the speech at the ceremony, the principal actually told me I needed to cut it down a little, for time purposes. I never did. Why? First let me explain, I am nor have I ever been the kind of person to hold grudge, like ever! However, I had some serious beef with this woman that I couldn’t quite hurdle over… Point and case one, I forgot a very important homework assignment at home my junior year, and she wouldn’t let me call my mother, so I began to have a panic attack and she told me I was being rude! Eventually the front desk lady felt bad for me, and let me sneak a call… Point two: when I called 911 when I found a janitor (after school hours) foaming at the mouth (after he’d stupidly mixed bleach and ammonia), and never got a thank you! Point three, when she mentioned memorable art students at some speech she gave, she somehow failed to mention me, even though she’d personally had written me a congratulations letter when I got through the first round of tests and tryouts for Governors Honors in hrmmm ART!… so yeeeaaah… I felt a little like Mozart (in the movie Amadeus) and this lady was telling me my writing had too many notes! Whatever, I didn’t owe her anything, it’s not like I was getting paid to do this, and so I read it exactly the same way I had presented it during my audition, and wouldn’t you know, everyone thought it was pretty awesome anyway. Later on I got a letter saying she wanted a copy of the speech to inspire future designated speakers. I always felt bad about it, but I never gratified her request. If I could go back in time, I think I would have given it to her, but honestly I was a pretty bitter teenager, not just towards her, but every one else who’d never seen my true potential until that moment. Snobbery, I know, but I was actually pretty snobby in high school, I surprisingly realized that I had very little humility about my talents, and when they were recognized. It was my art teacher Mrs. Owen who gently mentioned to me that when people told me my art was great, that it would be in better taste to say “thank you” instead of “I know.” It was hard for me to find such genuine humility because my whole life I was made to believe I was a loser when I wasn’t by the board of education, and most of my peers. Eventually I was able to say “thank you” without the chip on my shoulder, the chip that reminded me that I could do something others could only dream of doing. Today things are a little different, I never take a compliment of my work for granted, or maybe I just appreciate it more, because I actually like the people who are giving the compliments… Whatever the reason, I never get tired of hearing how someone loves my work, how it inspires them, and the like.
But getting back to my original train of thought, when I wrote that speech ten years ago, I really just wanted to show everyone, that I was basically like them. That I did all the same stuff, felt all the same emotions, and in that moment, I hope some of those kids maybe realized that. Giving that talk, I felt completely uncovered and empowered. My identity was finally shown, that I was not just some sunglass wearing portfolio toting freak. I was just a normal teenager trying to graduate High School. Why am I thinking about all this? Well, my ten-year HS reunion is rapidly approaching, and I am kinda sad, because a lot of people (friends) who really did know me in High School missed that speech. And sadly, a lot of them will miss this reunion. Mostly cause they didn’t feel a strong connection with the school or the people in it, or they have moved, think it’s dumb to reconnect with a bunch of people they never really knew or liked, or they don’t feel like they have anything to prove. And of course distance, (which is completely understandable, I wouldn’t be going if I still lived in NY.) All valid reasons I suppose, but I guess I am going, not to prove something, but because I did have a connection with those people. A lot of those kids I went to elementary school with, and middle school with. Good or bad, it was a connection, and what shaped my life. In my speech, I mentioned that no matter what the experience was, each of those experiences changed me and made me a stronger person. So for me it doesn’t matter anymore if kids alienated me, or that I was never a cheerleader or involved in the debate team, because if I had been part of a different click, I might not have turned out to be me, and I wouldn’t really want to be anyone else. And for that matter I did attend one debate team meeting, BORING! It’s funny cause unlike a lot of kids I never bothered to try and fit in. I mean I never really fit into a click, but looking back, everyone knew me for some reason. Whether it was because they thought I did drugs (because I fell asleep in class due to my acute insomnia), or because they though I had bulimia (because I threw up a few times during physical exercise in middle school, and was a total bean pole). PS yes I am laughing hysterically while writing this, cause it’s all true, people really thought these things about me. And in a way, isn’t that a form of popularity (ha ha ha)? If there was a US Weekly for High School there probably would have been a thumbnail picture of me in the bottom right hand corner face down on a desk passed out in Spanish class saying “Is Olivia on Drugs? Friends try to reach out by taking her to the local Waffle House to eat something.” But no worries, just to set the record straight, I never even tried drugs, nor did I ever have an eating disorder, just naturally thin and crazy, lol.
I don’t want to knock high school all together; I had a great time for someone with a half emerging self-esteem, and I was really pretty sad when it all ended. Surprisingly I realized the other day, I was almost barely with out a boyfriend from sophomore year on, so I must have been doing something right to attract so many guys, and not all of them were half bad looking. Overall my fondest memories didn’t always include kids in my grade or even the school, like meeting Jenny and Will Taylor (two seniors) in the cafeteria one day who changed my life and how I saw it, being involved in missions trips with my youth group at Christ Church Presbyterian, flirting with cute guys who didn’t go to my school while drinking too much coffee and loitering at the Waffle House in Cobb county with Mikalee Walker, Katy Cook, and Sina C, riding around listening to Lauren Hill and Beastie Boys with Katy Momeni when we would drive to our after school art class Senior year, and lastly getting a crap load of awards for being an awesome artist at a variety of juried High School exhibitions. But if I were to say what my best memories at my actual High School were, Melissa Keen introducing me to the magic of face glitter at a Riverwood football game, participating in drama from tenth grade on, junior prom when I went with my still friend now Brad Feldman and Mikalee, jamming out to the radio in the art room making art with Sarah, Lucia, Amber and Tasida, meeting up with Aaron in the mornings and having some decent conversations and mildly witty banter, my one and only skip day with Mikalee, and getting to know a plethora of underclassmen and hopefully inspiring them to be themselves. Yeah, those were some favorite times for me, just to name a few. I mean when I think about all the things I didn’t have to worry about, I really wish I could go back and relive it, if only to appreciate the freedom I had a bit more.
It’s funny in a way to even think about all this, cause I have lived so many different lives, going to three colleges for an undergrad was strangely something I had talked about. It was senior year, I was in Ms.Brandons art class with Mikalee and Tasida, and we were talking about college, and I said, “Wouldn’t it be cool to go to a different school every year?!” To which they realistically put, “Yeah but it would take you a long time to finish school…” Which was true, I went to school for five years and attended 3 colleges in 3 different cities, which was actually pretty rad. UGA credits for some reason didn’t really transfer over to art school in New York, go figure… I think it was my final school in New York where I did ultimately feel at home, and made lifelong friends, and had I not met my now husband, I would probably still be there. So when I think of all I have done, the people I have met, High School is such a small portion, and thankfully in college I got to do all the things I didn’t get to do in high school, and so much more. Honestly, I am not the same person I was then, there might be some similarities, but if one year can change a person than ten years can transform.
After High School I would bump into people from River wood who I’d never really hung out with, but I never felt like the fact that we weren’t bosom buddies in HS prevented us from being cordial to each other once out in the real world. In HS you never realize you are in a bubble, until you leave the bubble, but it is a bubble. I think when I went to visit colleges with my mother I realized what High School was, and that I was about to escape. I was ready to leave, and reinvent myself, or perhaps just meet my full potential. I knew then what I know now, that I was always better than what I was made to feel in High School. Thank goodness for my art teachers, they all took me under their wing and made me believe in what I was meant to do. Thank goodness for Mrs. Owen for helping me find my humility, and my mother for making me do things outside of the bubble. Because the way peers make you feel can statistically effect how you are for the rest of your life. And I hate to get on my soapbox about it, but the way kids treated me did effect me. While I harbor no resentment today, I suffered with body image issues for years, among other issues like financial status and the like. In defense of bullies however, I realize I too wasn’t always as nice as I could have been to others. I shunned a lot of people and refused to date certain guys because of what other people said about them, and I realize now that teenagers are really stupid, and simply don’t understand that’s not how life is. That we don’t just date someone cause they are sexy and cool, we date them cause they actually have something called substance. And that in the real world you don’t get to choose who you eat lunch with everyday, that you might just have to sit next to someone you don’t like in the break room. Over all it’s pretty amazing how superficial and brutal kids are to each other. It’s no joke, and when I read articles by doctors and parents about the same peer issues I went through, I realize how lucky I was to have a great network of friends, supportive parents, my creativity and intuitive teachers to get me through all of it. Not all kids have that, and that’s why many of them go nuts and either commit suicide or shoot up schools… sorry to get morbid, but it’s the truth, and whenever I hear about those things, my heart does go out to those kids who never had a chance, never had the good role models I had, never had the teacher that pushed them to do better things with their lives. I realize it’s also a personality element too, I have always been the knock me down and I get right back up kinda gal. Not sure where that comes from completely, but my mom tells me I was always that way.
When I was around seven I wanted to roller skate like the big kids at Sparkles, (which I hear has been torn down). My mom said it was painful to watch how many times I would fall, but she said I got back up to try again every time, without crying or complaining once. I’ve never been a quitter, that’s for sure.
But back to what I was saying… teachers, yeah some of them were pretty amazing. I don’t know what faculty might show up at this thing, but I thought one of the coolest things any teacher of mine ever did was when Mrs. Roberts (I think that was her name) made us write a letter to ourselves about where we wanted to be in like five years. She promised she would send those letters to us. When I read that letter, I funnily enough realized that all my dreams, things I wanted to do, where ultimately happening. That in HS I knew exactly what I was, an artist, and once again I am lucky because a lot of people never know what they are, or what they want to do with their lives. They struggle to pick a major in college, or to find work that makes them happy. A lot of people simply have to settle on something they feel pretty mediocre about.
Anyway, like most of my writings, this one is becoming one stuffed burrito. But I look forward to my 10 year reunion for one reason alone, that I can finally be who I am today, and enjoy some time with my fellow alumni the way I think I would have liked to have spent it back in the day. I am no longer the shy skinny girl in the art room, afraid of acceptance, who felt she had to wear a variety of shades to hide behind, I can just be myself, and so can everyone else.
I suppose I have always looked at life in shades and tints, shapes and colors, and I often wonder, does anyone, will anyone, ever see life like I do? In High School I presented a speech at the Baccalaureate, (basically a pre-graduation ceremony). It felt good standing up in front of peers and strangers, choking on my own words with genuine emotion about the way I saw the world. Before that speech, I never had much identity in High School. I mean everyone knew of me, but not many people really knew what I was about, other than that art chick who wondered the halls with her walkman permanently affixed to here head. Mostly I was just trying to tune out the masses of people until classes commenced. I was a little less strange than (for example) Laney Boggs from “She’s all that”, except Freddy Prince never asked me out, and my shining moment in HS was not because of some guy who helped me see my inner beauty and trudged me out of my shell, I had to that on my own. Actually… that’s a lie, it’s cause of my mother.
My mother and I went to some parent teacher thing one evening towards the end of my senior year (rather she dragged me kicking and screaming). I was sitting bored off my rocker in the auditorium, probably pulling hairs out of my head, or picking a the dry cuticles of my nails, listening to what sounded like the “whah whah whah” of Charley Browns teacher. Then there was some mention about trying out for graduation speeches, afterwards my mother said, “You could do that?” I was thinking, "What? Work on a speech, only to have it turned down?” Like when I submitted work for the HS newspaper? No thanks, I didn’t really need extra rejection in the grand scheme of my public schooling days.
But my mother, who knew me very well (and read a lot of my writing apparently behind my back) felt I had the chops to present a kick-ass speech for graduation. However, I knew the school only really picked the “smart kids” who got like 3.5 GPA’s. Yet despite my bitter outlook on the politics of school, I did it anyway, for my mother. I presented my original speech in front of Coach Bounds, Coach Seals, and a camcorder. I didn’t get to speak at graduation (surprise), but because my writing was (in fact so) good I got to speak at the Baccalaureate. It was Coach Bounds who told me he wished I could have spoken at the graduation, but that because of the limited amount of time, and other people who were designated to speak (AKA the politics of HS hierarchy), there was no way to fit me in to the program. So that’s how I wound up speaking at the Baccalaureate.
For those of you who missed out on my monumental analogy of life (sarcasm), I will try to recap it here. Basically my whole life, and life since HS I have always viewed the world and myself in it as one large painting that I create. I can paint over places I have been to show where I am now, or remove and replace people who’ve come and gone from the image of my life, and so forth. I can paint scars or take them away, I can show hurt, and replace it with a happy aftermath. It’s kinda a brilliant way to see life really, the ever-changing canvas, and an eternally moving image in paint. Sometimes people ask me, “How do you know when one of your paintings is done?” I tell them, because it will look on the canvas how I envisioned it in my head. And that is how life is to me, and why the picture always changes. Because I want my life to be how I envision it to be. As we grow we change, and may want different things, and new circumstances can come into our lives that we enjoy, so we want to add to the vision. So that is why the painting in my mind is never complete. I am always creating it. Which is ultimately what my speech conveyed: That we are all artists, because “we are the creators of our own lives.” We each have a painting that we are constantly redrawing, adding onto, taking things away from, etc.... It was (if I say so myself) a lovely little speech that I put a lot of thought into. Before I gave the speech at the ceremony, the principal actually told me I needed to cut it down a little, for time purposes. I never did. Why? First let me explain, I am nor have I ever been the kind of person to hold grudge, like ever! However, I had some serious beef with this woman that I couldn’t quite hurdle over… Point and case one, I forgot a very important homework assignment at home my junior year, and she wouldn’t let me call my mother, so I began to have a panic attack and she told me I was being rude! Eventually the front desk lady felt bad for me, and let me sneak a call… Point two: when I called 911 when I found a janitor (after school hours) foaming at the mouth (after he’d stupidly mixed bleach and ammonia), and never got a thank you! Point three, when she mentioned memorable art students at some speech she gave, she somehow failed to mention me, even though she’d personally had written me a congratulations letter when I got through the first round of tests and tryouts for Governors Honors in hrmmm ART!… so yeeeaaah… I felt a little like Mozart (in the movie Amadeus) and this lady was telling me my writing had too many notes! Whatever, I didn’t owe her anything, it’s not like I was getting paid to do this, and so I read it exactly the same way I had presented it during my audition, and wouldn’t you know, everyone thought it was pretty awesome anyway. Later on I got a letter saying she wanted a copy of the speech to inspire future designated speakers. I always felt bad about it, but I never gratified her request. If I could go back in time, I think I would have given it to her, but honestly I was a pretty bitter teenager, not just towards her, but every one else who’d never seen my true potential until that moment. Snobbery, I know, but I was actually pretty snobby in high school, I surprisingly realized that I had very little humility about my talents, and when they were recognized. It was my art teacher Mrs. Owen who gently mentioned to me that when people told me my art was great, that it would be in better taste to say “thank you” instead of “I know.” It was hard for me to find such genuine humility because my whole life I was made to believe I was a loser when I wasn’t by the board of education, and most of my peers. Eventually I was able to say “thank you” without the chip on my shoulder, the chip that reminded me that I could do something others could only dream of doing. Today things are a little different, I never take a compliment of my work for granted, or maybe I just appreciate it more, because I actually like the people who are giving the compliments… Whatever the reason, I never get tired of hearing how someone loves my work, how it inspires them, and the like.
But getting back to my original train of thought, when I wrote that speech ten years ago, I really just wanted to show everyone, that I was basically like them. That I did all the same stuff, felt all the same emotions, and in that moment, I hope some of those kids maybe realized that. Giving that talk, I felt completely uncovered and empowered. My identity was finally shown, that I was not just some sunglass wearing portfolio toting freak. I was just a normal teenager trying to graduate High School. Why am I thinking about all this? Well, my ten-year HS reunion is rapidly approaching, and I am kinda sad, because a lot of people (friends) who really did know me in High School missed that speech. And sadly, a lot of them will miss this reunion. Mostly cause they didn’t feel a strong connection with the school or the people in it, or they have moved, think it’s dumb to reconnect with a bunch of people they never really knew or liked, or they don’t feel like they have anything to prove. And of course distance, (which is completely understandable, I wouldn’t be going if I still lived in NY.) All valid reasons I suppose, but I guess I am going, not to prove something, but because I did have a connection with those people. A lot of those kids I went to elementary school with, and middle school with. Good or bad, it was a connection, and what shaped my life. In my speech, I mentioned that no matter what the experience was, each of those experiences changed me and made me a stronger person. So for me it doesn’t matter anymore if kids alienated me, or that I was never a cheerleader or involved in the debate team, because if I had been part of a different click, I might not have turned out to be me, and I wouldn’t really want to be anyone else. And for that matter I did attend one debate team meeting, BORING! It’s funny cause unlike a lot of kids I never bothered to try and fit in. I mean I never really fit into a click, but looking back, everyone knew me for some reason. Whether it was because they thought I did drugs (because I fell asleep in class due to my acute insomnia), or because they though I had bulimia (because I threw up a few times during physical exercise in middle school, and was a total bean pole). PS yes I am laughing hysterically while writing this, cause it’s all true, people really thought these things about me. And in a way, isn’t that a form of popularity (ha ha ha)? If there was a US Weekly for High School there probably would have been a thumbnail picture of me in the bottom right hand corner face down on a desk passed out in Spanish class saying “Is Olivia on Drugs? Friends try to reach out by taking her to the local Waffle House to eat something.” But no worries, just to set the record straight, I never even tried drugs, nor did I ever have an eating disorder, just naturally thin and crazy, lol.
I don’t want to knock high school all together; I had a great time for someone with a half emerging self-esteem, and I was really pretty sad when it all ended. Surprisingly I realized the other day, I was almost barely with out a boyfriend from sophomore year on, so I must have been doing something right to attract so many guys, and not all of them were half bad looking. Overall my fondest memories didn’t always include kids in my grade or even the school, like meeting Jenny and Will Taylor (two seniors) in the cafeteria one day who changed my life and how I saw it, being involved in missions trips with my youth group at Christ Church Presbyterian, flirting with cute guys who didn’t go to my school while drinking too much coffee and loitering at the Waffle House in Cobb county with Mikalee Walker, Katy Cook, and Sina C, riding around listening to Lauren Hill and Beastie Boys with Katy Momeni when we would drive to our after school art class Senior year, and lastly getting a crap load of awards for being an awesome artist at a variety of juried High School exhibitions. But if I were to say what my best memories at my actual High School were, Melissa Keen introducing me to the magic of face glitter at a Riverwood football game, participating in drama from tenth grade on, junior prom when I went with my still friend now Brad Feldman and Mikalee, jamming out to the radio in the art room making art with Sarah, Lucia, Amber and Tasida, meeting up with Aaron in the mornings and having some decent conversations and mildly witty banter, my one and only skip day with Mikalee, and getting to know a plethora of underclassmen and hopefully inspiring them to be themselves. Yeah, those were some favorite times for me, just to name a few. I mean when I think about all the things I didn’t have to worry about, I really wish I could go back and relive it, if only to appreciate the freedom I had a bit more.
It’s funny in a way to even think about all this, cause I have lived so many different lives, going to three colleges for an undergrad was strangely something I had talked about. It was senior year, I was in Ms.Brandons art class with Mikalee and Tasida, and we were talking about college, and I said, “Wouldn’t it be cool to go to a different school every year?!” To which they realistically put, “Yeah but it would take you a long time to finish school…” Which was true, I went to school for five years and attended 3 colleges in 3 different cities, which was actually pretty rad. UGA credits for some reason didn’t really transfer over to art school in New York, go figure… I think it was my final school in New York where I did ultimately feel at home, and made lifelong friends, and had I not met my now husband, I would probably still be there. So when I think of all I have done, the people I have met, High School is such a small portion, and thankfully in college I got to do all the things I didn’t get to do in high school, and so much more. Honestly, I am not the same person I was then, there might be some similarities, but if one year can change a person than ten years can transform.
After High School I would bump into people from River wood who I’d never really hung out with, but I never felt like the fact that we weren’t bosom buddies in HS prevented us from being cordial to each other once out in the real world. In HS you never realize you are in a bubble, until you leave the bubble, but it is a bubble. I think when I went to visit colleges with my mother I realized what High School was, and that I was about to escape. I was ready to leave, and reinvent myself, or perhaps just meet my full potential. I knew then what I know now, that I was always better than what I was made to feel in High School. Thank goodness for my art teachers, they all took me under their wing and made me believe in what I was meant to do. Thank goodness for Mrs. Owen for helping me find my humility, and my mother for making me do things outside of the bubble. Because the way peers make you feel can statistically effect how you are for the rest of your life. And I hate to get on my soapbox about it, but the way kids treated me did effect me. While I harbor no resentment today, I suffered with body image issues for years, among other issues like financial status and the like. In defense of bullies however, I realize I too wasn’t always as nice as I could have been to others. I shunned a lot of people and refused to date certain guys because of what other people said about them, and I realize now that teenagers are really stupid, and simply don’t understand that’s not how life is. That we don’t just date someone cause they are sexy and cool, we date them cause they actually have something called substance. And that in the real world you don’t get to choose who you eat lunch with everyday, that you might just have to sit next to someone you don’t like in the break room. Over all it’s pretty amazing how superficial and brutal kids are to each other. It’s no joke, and when I read articles by doctors and parents about the same peer issues I went through, I realize how lucky I was to have a great network of friends, supportive parents, my creativity and intuitive teachers to get me through all of it. Not all kids have that, and that’s why many of them go nuts and either commit suicide or shoot up schools… sorry to get morbid, but it’s the truth, and whenever I hear about those things, my heart does go out to those kids who never had a chance, never had the good role models I had, never had the teacher that pushed them to do better things with their lives. I realize it’s also a personality element too, I have always been the knock me down and I get right back up kinda gal. Not sure where that comes from completely, but my mom tells me I was always that way.
When I was around seven I wanted to roller skate like the big kids at Sparkles, (which I hear has been torn down). My mom said it was painful to watch how many times I would fall, but she said I got back up to try again every time, without crying or complaining once. I’ve never been a quitter, that’s for sure.
But back to what I was saying… teachers, yeah some of them were pretty amazing. I don’t know what faculty might show up at this thing, but I thought one of the coolest things any teacher of mine ever did was when Mrs. Roberts (I think that was her name) made us write a letter to ourselves about where we wanted to be in like five years. She promised she would send those letters to us. When I read that letter, I funnily enough realized that all my dreams, things I wanted to do, where ultimately happening. That in HS I knew exactly what I was, an artist, and once again I am lucky because a lot of people never know what they are, or what they want to do with their lives. They struggle to pick a major in college, or to find work that makes them happy. A lot of people simply have to settle on something they feel pretty mediocre about.
Anyway, like most of my writings, this one is becoming one stuffed burrito. But I look forward to my 10 year reunion for one reason alone, that I can finally be who I am today, and enjoy some time with my fellow alumni the way I think I would have liked to have spent it back in the day. I am no longer the shy skinny girl in the art room, afraid of acceptance, who felt she had to wear a variety of shades to hide behind, I can just be myself, and so can everyone else.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Sweaters
This was an older blog of mine posted a few years back, but it's been a favorite for a while, so here it is for my Blogger account. Enjoy.
Sweaters: By Olivia Williams
In all my life I think the band Weezer had it right in the song about the sweater. Basically that the sweater is the feelings this person once had, and if you want to forget or "destroy" the past, maybe you have to let go of the sweater.
Living in New York, you get used to cramped spaces, and so over time you will probably toss a sweater or two, in my case maybe five or more. Except I don't toss anything, it's Salvation Army, or my friends… Okay the point? Basically that people have a hard time getting rid of old clothes, because of all the memories weaved into the treads. Looking through old pictures, with friends from college, high school, or elsewhere, I realized, I got rid of some of these sweaters!? FAVORITE SWEATERS!!! But that one of the reasons I had held onto the damn thing for maybe four or six years past it's prime was because of a memory, or special time in my life spent wearing the sweater. And while the sweater looked good then, over time the sweater (or sweaters) just don't fit the same, or flatter you any longer, they get faded, or get those disgusting pill balls (which can only be removed by hours of carefully trimming them off with scissors… sigh). Or perhaps it was a sweater from a lover, or friend, and it never looked good to begin with, but you still held on, maybe even wore it a couple of times on a lonely rainy night watching a bad lifetime movie that seemed good at the time, and even brought tears to your eyes, because in all honesty you were holding on to an old smelly sweater!
But all joking aside, there is something sad about letting go, and while often I wish I hadn't gotten rid of some of those old sweaters, I know I had to then, and will have to in the future, because that is life. We are woven together, but sometimes we just don't fit together anymore. But sometimes if you are lucky, you may just find that old sweater at the Salvation Army, and buy it back so you can remember one last time.
Sweaters: By Olivia Williams
In all my life I think the band Weezer had it right in the song about the sweater. Basically that the sweater is the feelings this person once had, and if you want to forget or "destroy" the past, maybe you have to let go of the sweater.
Living in New York, you get used to cramped spaces, and so over time you will probably toss a sweater or two, in my case maybe five or more. Except I don't toss anything, it's Salvation Army, or my friends… Okay the point? Basically that people have a hard time getting rid of old clothes, because of all the memories weaved into the treads. Looking through old pictures, with friends from college, high school, or elsewhere, I realized, I got rid of some of these sweaters!? FAVORITE SWEATERS!!! But that one of the reasons I had held onto the damn thing for maybe four or six years past it's prime was because of a memory, or special time in my life spent wearing the sweater. And while the sweater looked good then, over time the sweater (or sweaters) just don't fit the same, or flatter you any longer, they get faded, or get those disgusting pill balls (which can only be removed by hours of carefully trimming them off with scissors… sigh). Or perhaps it was a sweater from a lover, or friend, and it never looked good to begin with, but you still held on, maybe even wore it a couple of times on a lonely rainy night watching a bad lifetime movie that seemed good at the time, and even brought tears to your eyes, because in all honesty you were holding on to an old smelly sweater!
But all joking aside, there is something sad about letting go, and while often I wish I hadn't gotten rid of some of those old sweaters, I know I had to then, and will have to in the future, because that is life. We are woven together, but sometimes we just don't fit together anymore. But sometimes if you are lucky, you may just find that old sweater at the Salvation Army, and buy it back so you can remember one last time.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
No right, No wrong, just this
The other night after some much deserved rest, and relaxation, I began to stir, and contemplate certain things in my life. This was stemmed by a conversation I had. The conversation made me think about all the people around me whose lives have been affected by their work, relationships, children, relocating, etc... There is no wrong or right, there just is, and I realize that my lifes choices cannot be hindered based on other peoples warnings based on their personal experiences. I think when people draw upon stories from their lives; they are only trying to be helpful, hoping you will apply their insight to your own life. By me writing this, it’s actually the same thing, I am hoping that my insight will give you insight. The only difference is, my insight might actually make you a happier person. My insight will not judge your life, make assumptions because of things I myself have been through, or give you advice you didn’t want.
So let’s start this rant off right. My life is totally one hundred and fifty percent unique from anyone elses life, and so is yours (to whomever is reading this) for that matter.
Despite what people say, I cannot ignore what I know and feel. Ultimately I will do what I believe is the best thing for my own personal life and lifes circumstances, despite what anyone thinks, and you should do the same. We each find our own path, and find what works for us and our individuality. If you have already found your happiness in life, don’t assume that what worked for you, will work for someone else, or that just because someone else isn’t doing what worked for you, that it’s the wrong way to do it… That’s not how people function…
I always find it hysterically ironic that people that love certain movies are the same people, who if they personally knew the people in those movies, would surely have some negative feedback about their lifestyles… But isn’t the truth of the matter that we all want a storybook life? A life that is a little bit more interesting? But that’s a side thought, and not the point of this stream of consciousness I have decided to put out into the Universe. What I am talking about here is the path, the road, whatever the heck you want to call it that we walk on. The metaphorical journey that each person so desperately tries to connect with and figure out. Let’s talk about choices, you know the ones you make along that “journey.”
Hypothetically speaking: What if my best friend Kristen had made all the same choices that I had on her journey? Instead of staying in New York, where she grew up, let’s say she decided to move to Atlanta, and went to school there, and built a life there, it wouldn’t have really worked the same for her as my moving away from Atlanta, right? Moving around in my youth worked for me, but doesn’t work for everyone… Kristen has found other ways to expand her mind, and travels quite frequently. She even went away for a summer to New Mexico to paint last year. And is currently working on a wall mural in the city. She didn’t follow the same path I did, for if she had, who would she be, would she even be in New York to do a mural? She may have turned into a really boring person, she may have ditched art completely, her life away from New York would not have had the same impact that my life had being away from Atlanta. Kristen has a unique life however, she has vast calm, and lives a life that anyone would envy. We are not the same person, and for that I am glad. I believe that we have learned so much from each others differences, and give each other complimenting advice, which helps instead of hurts. Some people might compare the two of us, and say, I am not as patient a person, but I am actually just as patient, just in a different way. Externally I might get more hot headed, but that’s what makes me me, and don’t think Kristen doesn’t have her own fire, she just lights it in a different way. This is the beauty of being an individual. It is the beauty of being different, that gives each life a special zeal.
I am often misrepresented as impatient (hell if anyone likes long lines at the post office) but I know how to wait for things! I have persistently pursued my art since I was fifteen, and anyone that takes care of children, knows you must have a huge amount of inner calm and patience to work with kids on a day to day basis. I have waited, and am still waiting for many things in my life, but when I don’t see the need to wait for something any longer than necessary, I won’t. Why? Because purposefully waiting for something, because you think it’s the “right” thing to do, or what society expects of you to do, is how you go against the flow of what is meant to be. (as stated before there is no right or wrong, there just is).
If I were an impatient person I would probably already have gotten married and had babies at this point with some Joe Shmoe. Thankfully I don’t settle for less in life, and am very picky and particular. I have been patient in my pursuit of the right person for one thing, and I am glad that I was never afraid of giving up what I knew wasn’t right, for the possibility of waiting longer for someone that was.
But let’s get back on track… I look at friends who have lived in the same town their whole lives, because that is what works for them. So who would I be to judge them and say they should have lived somewhere else for a while, gotten out of their comfort zone a little more like me… I wouldn’t say that, because what worked for me isn’t right for everyone else… Sorry if this is being redundant, but I am trying to prove a point. I think it’s important to get away from your comfort zone, but ONLY in a way that works for you… I had to experience things somewhere else, cause I knew those experiences could not be had anywhere else.
The reason I am writing about all of this, is because not so long ago I began to turn off (what I call) “negative reinforcement” in my life. I recognized one day: I wouldn’t worry about anything much in my life if other people didn’t feel obligated to spout out their worry and concern for me would I? We all go through phases in life where we make mistakes and learn from them. However, if you allow someone to tell you that what you are doing is wrong, it will control your choices, which will effect you. What those people don’t understand is that your past doesn’t have to be your future, if you choose for it not to be. Unfortunately, 85% of the reason why I ever worry in the first place is because of what other people say to me… If you take a deep look at all the things you have done in your life, you may find this applies to you, or that it once did. Hopefully, like myself, you have journeyed past worrying about what others think of you, and simply focus on what you do. It is so important to decipher what is being told to you. I have had conversations with friends about how much harder my life used to be, because I used to allow others fears to poison what I felt was truly pure and good. Sometimes it’s good that I have people in my life who care, and other times, they have no idea how much it hurts when I feel like they think I am just this big idiot who is bound to make mistakes.
The irony of it all is that no one ever voiced their worry or concerns when I had a high paying job and went out partying all the time, would drink, or go home intoxicated on the MTA by myself late at night… No one had any concerns when I would compulsively date out of boredom, or make-out with guys I barely knew… So MY concerns for those people are, why are you concerned NOW that I am actually making healthy choices in my life? Why are people concerned that I have chosen not to go back to school at this time for financial reasons, during a time of economical crisis? Someone I have known for a long time actually went so far as to say that what I am doing is stupid, when I am making alternatives to better my life. They felt my leaving New York was a mistake, well as much as I know that person cares, what they don’t know is that I have learned all I need to learn from this portion of my life. And I am ready to pursue other dreams of mine.
Thankfully, I have more respect for myself today, so much more than I had a year and a half ago. So when the heads turn and shake in disapproval, or can’t understand, all I can say is, is your life any better than mine? Have you really made all the perfect choices that you are so high above me that you can judge what I do and decide it’s the wrong way of doing something? My advice to the human race: Never assume that you know a persons heart, or that you know the measure of something someone feels. Because people feel things at different times and in different measures.
I mean peoples opinions, can be hurtful, and bring unnecessary stress to your everyday life. I only hope like myself, you will realize (or have already) you have to cut out that kind of negative reinforcement, and listen to your heart. Just say: “If I am not concerned about it, why are you?” Perhaps they are afraid you will regret or resent what you end up doing? Maybe people feel this way because they resent or are upset about how they ended up. Or they can’t comprehend how one can feel so strongly about something so quickly, and that scares them because they don’t know what that feels like. But things that are different do scare people. It’s a historical fact. So… not sure what the answer is, but this is the best I could come up with: Fear, so many people live in fear, and they don’t even know it. Because fear has become a companion, a part of life, a way of thinking. Before impulsively doing something, people will think about that impulse, and what might come from it, and then how it will affect them, then how it will affect their loved ones, until the fear spider webs itself around the instinctual impulse, until the impulse is gone. The way I deal with impulses that I feel: feel the impulse, if the impulse isn’t hurting you, or anyone else, feed the impulse, otherwise you will regret. Now I am not saying, go on a shopping spree and feed the impulse to blow thousands of dollars, but if something is a good impulse, and brings you immense joy, it’s a good feeling to feed. This fear works with other things as well though, like happiness, I am victim of this myself, where life is so good, that you have to come up with possible scenarios of how it will fall down around you. And by listening to others questioning on your life, the people you care about feed the small insecurities that are tucked away in your subconscious. You think “Something’s got to go wrong, life IS too good, maybe my friend was right?” but the reality is, your friend isn’t always right, and happiness does not have to be fleeting, if you allow it, and take a broom to the fear that pollutes those happy feelings, it will last.
While I have always been a go getter, fear used to rule my life on other levels, which I believe sabotaged jobs and relationships. I have begun a journey of enlightened thinking where I will not allow fear to manifest and linger in my thoughts for too long, because that is how failure presents itself. If you feel doubt creep in, look at a photo of a moment where you felt good, and hold on to that good feeling. It not only will remind that what you have is better than the fear, you will appreciate the things that make you feel satisfied, and you’ll realize the worry was never really there to begin with. The truth of almost every matter (and this is just how I personally feel) is that if you worry about something, the chances of it happening are a lot higher. I certainly don’t have all the answers, to irradiate fear is pretty much impossible (and I definitely have my days) but there are ways to ignore unnecessary fears, by focusing on what your initial feeling told you, and less on what others say. This might come off haughty and pretentious, but it’s what has actually given me internal happiness.
I think it’s fair to say that while I know I will change, (because we all do) because change is inevitable, that I know myself frighteningly well. I know that when I feel passionately about something, that I will always feel passionately about that something. That when I feel love, it’s real, and as long as that love is nourished and reciprocated, I will continue to love. Certain things do not change for me, and I also believe I am frighteningly intuitive. I follow my base instincts, because that is when your mind is at it’s highest clarity. And this is true for most people, they just don’t tap into it.
My true friends who’ve known me for a long time know that while my choices and feelings may seem accelerated, that these affirmations are a result of a lot focused thought, and that the only persons opinion that really matters, is mine. So they trust my decisions. This should not sound like I am coming off as insensitive to what others think or feel, but these choices do not concern anyone else. Because at the end of the day, when you are laying in bed, did you do things to satisfy your heart, or did you do something because it would satisfy someone else?
But just to clarify, if my choice directly involve a friend or a family member, than of course I would take into consideration how they feel. If it were a public statement that I was making, and it was a generalization that could offend someone, and make me look bad to others, then I would also listen to what my friend or family member had to say, because in the end, I know their concern would only be based out of love, not out of negativity. There is big difference between negative input and positive input, but that’s another tangent.
This rant is a happy rant of sorts if you will…because writing it only solidifies my peace with this way of thinking. But for anyone reading this, who does not always feel inner peace, I hope you too will try to dispel negativity in your life that is directed from other people, and outside sources that are not of your own thinking. And hold true to the healthy changes, feelings, and activities you embark upon. Be aware that you can’t please all the people all the time, and it’s not your job to do it. Friends and family have their own insecurities to deal with, and if what you do makes them feel uneasy, it is probably because it stemmed fear in them about something they are unhappy about with in their own life.
When life presents you with the things you really want, it’s best to try and take it while it is there, and if you wind up broken hearted about it, at least you can rest assured that you tried, and that you tried with all you had to give, free of fears. That when it’s done, it’s done, and you will have no question in your mind any longer about it’s hold on your life. And if you continue to live this way, fearless with hope, and keep trying, in the end the best things will come your way, because you are holding a candle of trust, and not the ashes of fear. If you don’t want something in your life, exclaim what you do want, not what you don’t want, cause the more you focus of what you don’t want, the more it will gravitate your way… I kid you not on this.
Well I have not much else to say, so I will leave you with some wonderful Dylan, who also inspired this ramble of thought.
“Half of the people can be part right all of the time
Some of the people can be all right part of the time
But all of the people can't be all right all of the time
I think Abraham Lincoln said that
"I'll let you be in my dreams if I can be in yours"
I said that..” – Bob Dylan-
So let’s start this rant off right. My life is totally one hundred and fifty percent unique from anyone elses life, and so is yours (to whomever is reading this) for that matter.
Despite what people say, I cannot ignore what I know and feel. Ultimately I will do what I believe is the best thing for my own personal life and lifes circumstances, despite what anyone thinks, and you should do the same. We each find our own path, and find what works for us and our individuality. If you have already found your happiness in life, don’t assume that what worked for you, will work for someone else, or that just because someone else isn’t doing what worked for you, that it’s the wrong way to do it… That’s not how people function…
I always find it hysterically ironic that people that love certain movies are the same people, who if they personally knew the people in those movies, would surely have some negative feedback about their lifestyles… But isn’t the truth of the matter that we all want a storybook life? A life that is a little bit more interesting? But that’s a side thought, and not the point of this stream of consciousness I have decided to put out into the Universe. What I am talking about here is the path, the road, whatever the heck you want to call it that we walk on. The metaphorical journey that each person so desperately tries to connect with and figure out. Let’s talk about choices, you know the ones you make along that “journey.”
Hypothetically speaking: What if my best friend Kristen had made all the same choices that I had on her journey? Instead of staying in New York, where she grew up, let’s say she decided to move to Atlanta, and went to school there, and built a life there, it wouldn’t have really worked the same for her as my moving away from Atlanta, right? Moving around in my youth worked for me, but doesn’t work for everyone… Kristen has found other ways to expand her mind, and travels quite frequently. She even went away for a summer to New Mexico to paint last year. And is currently working on a wall mural in the city. She didn’t follow the same path I did, for if she had, who would she be, would she even be in New York to do a mural? She may have turned into a really boring person, she may have ditched art completely, her life away from New York would not have had the same impact that my life had being away from Atlanta. Kristen has a unique life however, she has vast calm, and lives a life that anyone would envy. We are not the same person, and for that I am glad. I believe that we have learned so much from each others differences, and give each other complimenting advice, which helps instead of hurts. Some people might compare the two of us, and say, I am not as patient a person, but I am actually just as patient, just in a different way. Externally I might get more hot headed, but that’s what makes me me, and don’t think Kristen doesn’t have her own fire, she just lights it in a different way. This is the beauty of being an individual. It is the beauty of being different, that gives each life a special zeal.
I am often misrepresented as impatient (hell if anyone likes long lines at the post office) but I know how to wait for things! I have persistently pursued my art since I was fifteen, and anyone that takes care of children, knows you must have a huge amount of inner calm and patience to work with kids on a day to day basis. I have waited, and am still waiting for many things in my life, but when I don’t see the need to wait for something any longer than necessary, I won’t. Why? Because purposefully waiting for something, because you think it’s the “right” thing to do, or what society expects of you to do, is how you go against the flow of what is meant to be. (as stated before there is no right or wrong, there just is).
If I were an impatient person I would probably already have gotten married and had babies at this point with some Joe Shmoe. Thankfully I don’t settle for less in life, and am very picky and particular. I have been patient in my pursuit of the right person for one thing, and I am glad that I was never afraid of giving up what I knew wasn’t right, for the possibility of waiting longer for someone that was.
But let’s get back on track… I look at friends who have lived in the same town their whole lives, because that is what works for them. So who would I be to judge them and say they should have lived somewhere else for a while, gotten out of their comfort zone a little more like me… I wouldn’t say that, because what worked for me isn’t right for everyone else… Sorry if this is being redundant, but I am trying to prove a point. I think it’s important to get away from your comfort zone, but ONLY in a way that works for you… I had to experience things somewhere else, cause I knew those experiences could not be had anywhere else.
The reason I am writing about all of this, is because not so long ago I began to turn off (what I call) “negative reinforcement” in my life. I recognized one day: I wouldn’t worry about anything much in my life if other people didn’t feel obligated to spout out their worry and concern for me would I? We all go through phases in life where we make mistakes and learn from them. However, if you allow someone to tell you that what you are doing is wrong, it will control your choices, which will effect you. What those people don’t understand is that your past doesn’t have to be your future, if you choose for it not to be. Unfortunately, 85% of the reason why I ever worry in the first place is because of what other people say to me… If you take a deep look at all the things you have done in your life, you may find this applies to you, or that it once did. Hopefully, like myself, you have journeyed past worrying about what others think of you, and simply focus on what you do. It is so important to decipher what is being told to you. I have had conversations with friends about how much harder my life used to be, because I used to allow others fears to poison what I felt was truly pure and good. Sometimes it’s good that I have people in my life who care, and other times, they have no idea how much it hurts when I feel like they think I am just this big idiot who is bound to make mistakes.
The irony of it all is that no one ever voiced their worry or concerns when I had a high paying job and went out partying all the time, would drink, or go home intoxicated on the MTA by myself late at night… No one had any concerns when I would compulsively date out of boredom, or make-out with guys I barely knew… So MY concerns for those people are, why are you concerned NOW that I am actually making healthy choices in my life? Why are people concerned that I have chosen not to go back to school at this time for financial reasons, during a time of economical crisis? Someone I have known for a long time actually went so far as to say that what I am doing is stupid, when I am making alternatives to better my life. They felt my leaving New York was a mistake, well as much as I know that person cares, what they don’t know is that I have learned all I need to learn from this portion of my life. And I am ready to pursue other dreams of mine.
Thankfully, I have more respect for myself today, so much more than I had a year and a half ago. So when the heads turn and shake in disapproval, or can’t understand, all I can say is, is your life any better than mine? Have you really made all the perfect choices that you are so high above me that you can judge what I do and decide it’s the wrong way of doing something? My advice to the human race: Never assume that you know a persons heart, or that you know the measure of something someone feels. Because people feel things at different times and in different measures.
I mean peoples opinions, can be hurtful, and bring unnecessary stress to your everyday life. I only hope like myself, you will realize (or have already) you have to cut out that kind of negative reinforcement, and listen to your heart. Just say: “If I am not concerned about it, why are you?” Perhaps they are afraid you will regret or resent what you end up doing? Maybe people feel this way because they resent or are upset about how they ended up. Or they can’t comprehend how one can feel so strongly about something so quickly, and that scares them because they don’t know what that feels like. But things that are different do scare people. It’s a historical fact. So… not sure what the answer is, but this is the best I could come up with: Fear, so many people live in fear, and they don’t even know it. Because fear has become a companion, a part of life, a way of thinking. Before impulsively doing something, people will think about that impulse, and what might come from it, and then how it will affect them, then how it will affect their loved ones, until the fear spider webs itself around the instinctual impulse, until the impulse is gone. The way I deal with impulses that I feel: feel the impulse, if the impulse isn’t hurting you, or anyone else, feed the impulse, otherwise you will regret. Now I am not saying, go on a shopping spree and feed the impulse to blow thousands of dollars, but if something is a good impulse, and brings you immense joy, it’s a good feeling to feed. This fear works with other things as well though, like happiness, I am victim of this myself, where life is so good, that you have to come up with possible scenarios of how it will fall down around you. And by listening to others questioning on your life, the people you care about feed the small insecurities that are tucked away in your subconscious. You think “Something’s got to go wrong, life IS too good, maybe my friend was right?” but the reality is, your friend isn’t always right, and happiness does not have to be fleeting, if you allow it, and take a broom to the fear that pollutes those happy feelings, it will last.
While I have always been a go getter, fear used to rule my life on other levels, which I believe sabotaged jobs and relationships. I have begun a journey of enlightened thinking where I will not allow fear to manifest and linger in my thoughts for too long, because that is how failure presents itself. If you feel doubt creep in, look at a photo of a moment where you felt good, and hold on to that good feeling. It not only will remind that what you have is better than the fear, you will appreciate the things that make you feel satisfied, and you’ll realize the worry was never really there to begin with. The truth of almost every matter (and this is just how I personally feel) is that if you worry about something, the chances of it happening are a lot higher. I certainly don’t have all the answers, to irradiate fear is pretty much impossible (and I definitely have my days) but there are ways to ignore unnecessary fears, by focusing on what your initial feeling told you, and less on what others say. This might come off haughty and pretentious, but it’s what has actually given me internal happiness.
I think it’s fair to say that while I know I will change, (because we all do) because change is inevitable, that I know myself frighteningly well. I know that when I feel passionately about something, that I will always feel passionately about that something. That when I feel love, it’s real, and as long as that love is nourished and reciprocated, I will continue to love. Certain things do not change for me, and I also believe I am frighteningly intuitive. I follow my base instincts, because that is when your mind is at it’s highest clarity. And this is true for most people, they just don’t tap into it.
My true friends who’ve known me for a long time know that while my choices and feelings may seem accelerated, that these affirmations are a result of a lot focused thought, and that the only persons opinion that really matters, is mine. So they trust my decisions. This should not sound like I am coming off as insensitive to what others think or feel, but these choices do not concern anyone else. Because at the end of the day, when you are laying in bed, did you do things to satisfy your heart, or did you do something because it would satisfy someone else?
But just to clarify, if my choice directly involve a friend or a family member, than of course I would take into consideration how they feel. If it were a public statement that I was making, and it was a generalization that could offend someone, and make me look bad to others, then I would also listen to what my friend or family member had to say, because in the end, I know their concern would only be based out of love, not out of negativity. There is big difference between negative input and positive input, but that’s another tangent.
This rant is a happy rant of sorts if you will…because writing it only solidifies my peace with this way of thinking. But for anyone reading this, who does not always feel inner peace, I hope you too will try to dispel negativity in your life that is directed from other people, and outside sources that are not of your own thinking. And hold true to the healthy changes, feelings, and activities you embark upon. Be aware that you can’t please all the people all the time, and it’s not your job to do it. Friends and family have their own insecurities to deal with, and if what you do makes them feel uneasy, it is probably because it stemmed fear in them about something they are unhappy about with in their own life.
When life presents you with the things you really want, it’s best to try and take it while it is there, and if you wind up broken hearted about it, at least you can rest assured that you tried, and that you tried with all you had to give, free of fears. That when it’s done, it’s done, and you will have no question in your mind any longer about it’s hold on your life. And if you continue to live this way, fearless with hope, and keep trying, in the end the best things will come your way, because you are holding a candle of trust, and not the ashes of fear. If you don’t want something in your life, exclaim what you do want, not what you don’t want, cause the more you focus of what you don’t want, the more it will gravitate your way… I kid you not on this.
Well I have not much else to say, so I will leave you with some wonderful Dylan, who also inspired this ramble of thought.
“Half of the people can be part right all of the time
Some of the people can be all right part of the time
But all of the people can't be all right all of the time
I think Abraham Lincoln said that
"I'll let you be in my dreams if I can be in yours"
I said that..” – Bob Dylan-
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