The Story of The Story of Stuff

I heard a portion of a lecture from Annie Leonard on KUOW tonight about environmental stewardship, civic engagement, and doing so with enjoyment rather than being "martyrs for planet Earth", and what I heard was great. Yes, I've heard the heel-digging and theoretical counter arguments by a guy who seems overly confident (some or many of which I think are valid clarifications or corrections, despite the very abrasive tone of voice of the presenter) to her pretty alarmist "The Story of Stuff" assertions, but I still think she has an important and valid message to share, particularly her motivational plea in this lecture that we return to a more engaged citizenship connected with its government rather than mindlessly consuming ourselves into meaninglessly materialistic living while assuming the government is running itself just fine without us. You can find the lecture on KUOW's web site.

Anti-bullying and the golden rule

I recommend the following editorial by Warren Throckmorton concerning the need to set aside pompous (oops, did I insert my opinion?) political power plays to approach problems with a more solution-oriented attitude:

http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2010/10/05/my-take-a-christian-response-to-anti-gay-bullying/


Ellen's plea:




Incidentally, I think a war on bullying is about as winnable as a war on terror. It will never end. To really deal with the issue, parents have to teach compassion to their children in their own homes, and more than that, they need to teach their children how to deal with the persecution they simply will face in their lives. The important thing is that every child and teenager knows there is somewhere to go, someone to turn to, someplace to be safe. Be someone's shelter and safety.

Under Stress

From Personality Types Under Stress, some random site I ran across which may or may not be credible but does make me nod:

INTP

INTPs lack follow-through and this can isolate their ideas from practical examination. Their notions become over-intellectualized and too abstract to be of practical benefit. With their sharp critical thinking and analytical abilities, INTPs tend to nit-pick, hair-split, and generally overdo simple issues. Their desire for accuracy and precision exacerbates any error they may perceive in themselves or in others — they are, in other words, highly self-critical. Wanting to be competent and know everything, their standards grow increasingly higher. When fear of failing becomes overly pronounced, INTPs are quick to feel unintelligent, slow, and powerless.

If stress continues, the INTP's mind seems to freeze and block out the vital information it has worked so hard to accumulate. Their creative juices stop flowing and they suffer from stage fright, writers block, and a general inhibition of their ingenious thinking and fluent language skills. Preoccupied with performance failure, INTPs become self-consciously distracted in anticipation of their failure. If the stress becomes too overwhelming, the fear of blanking out prevents them from taking risks in areas they desire to succeed in. Attempting to avoid incompetence, they fail to gain the expertise and mastery they so desperately need.

Ugh. There are threads of other types under stress which I think apply to me, but this one was probably pretty accurate. Growth and progress can be such a pain in the butt.



Note: to those of you who will fail to understand this, I'd like to point out that just because certain simple issues may be "overdone", this does not mean that every issue is simple or that all issues are overdone. So step off, you don' know me.

Pushing the Bruise

Ha, I commented on Facebook that I keep "pushing the bruise" but am getting better at doing it less. The reference is from a song by The Weepies. The last time I parted with someone I had fallen for, I referenced the song in an entry here.

The specific reference is:

I keep pushing the bruise
'cause I don't wanna lose
what I loved about you

When you no longer have any tangible form of the tenderness and, dare I say, love you both saw in someone's eyes and felt for them, when it's nothing but a cherished memory you didn't want to end but they did, the only feeling that approximates the sweetness and intensity is the conjured pain of the loss which in turn reminds you what it is you lost, or why it hurts so much.

But I haven't been doing it on my own: I've had "help". Photos from happy moments together. Triggers of memories, like a location, phrase, or little plastic toy from a cereal box on your car's dash (I threw it away yesterday). People expressing their sympathy. Songs which became anthems, of sorts, for the relationship, which now only remind you of what you've lost (my main one, for the last few weeks of the relationship, was Billy Joel's The Longest Time):

If you said goodbye to me tonight
There would still be music left to write
What else could I do
I'm so inspired by you
That hasn't happened for the longest time

Once I thought my innocence was gone
Now I know that happiness goes on
That's where you found me
When you put your arms around me
I haven't been there for the longest time

I'm that voice you're hearing in the hall
And the greatest miracle of all
Is how I need you
And how you needed me too
That hasn't happened for the longest time

Maybe this won't last very long
But you feel so right
And I could be wrong
Maybe I've been hoping too hard
But I've gone this far
And it's more than I hoped for

Who knows how much further we'll go on
Maybe I'll be sorry when you're gone
I'll take my chances
I forgot how nice romance is
I haven't been there for the longest time

I had second thoughts at the start
I said to myself
Hold on to your heart
Now I know the [person] that you are
You're wonderful so far
And it's more than I hoped for

I don't care what consequence it brings
I have been a fool for lesser things
I want you so bad
I think you ought to know that
I intend to hold you for the longest time

Then there are songs which take on new meaning after the break-up, much like songs came alive while you were together, but with a sting instead of that sunny feeling. Some songs are on still the sweet side of bittersweet, like Rachael Yamagata's I Wish You Love, which I originally heard on Prime, a movie I really like (it's bittersweet *wink*):

I wish you bluebirds in the spring
To give your heart a song to sing
And then a kiss, but more than this
I wish you love

And in July a lemonade
To cool you in some leafy glade
I wish you health
And more than wealth
I wish you love

My breaking heart and I agree
That you and I could never be
So with my best
My very best
I set you free

I wish you shelter from the storm
A cozy fire to keep you warm
But most of all when snowflakes fall
I wish you love

My breaking heart and I agree
That you and I could never be
So with my best
My very best
I set you free

When I posted that I keep pushing the bruise, it was after going to a friend's performance in The Scarlet Pimpernel. When the character Margeuerite started singing When I Look At You, I braced myself. Sitting by myself in the crowded theater where nobody knew me, I didn't much care if people saw me getting emotional over it, but I didn't want to make a scene. I didn't. Just some tears welling up in my eyes was all. As she sang, I identified because our last conversation was almost businesslike, like talking with a completely different version of the person I fell for with a similar but colder, detached voice, without the warmth, the trust, the light, or the familiarity to which I'd become so completely accustomed, a change which took place, as far as I know, in a matter of a day or two:

When I look at you, what I always see
Is the face of someone else who once belonged to me
Still I can hear him laugh
And even though that melody plays on, he's gone

When I look at you, he is standing there
I can almost breathe him in like summer in the air
Why do you smile his smile?
That heaven I'd forgotten eases through, in you

If you could look at me once more
With all the love you felt before
If you and I could disappear into the past
And find that love we knew
I'd never take my eyes away from you

When I look at you, he is touching me
I would reach for him, but who can hold a memory?
And love isn't everything
That moonlight on the bed will melt away, someday

Oh, you were once that someone
Who I followed like a star
Then suddenly you changed,
And now I don't know who you are

Or could it be that I never really knew you from the start?
Did I create a dream?
Was he a fantasy?
Even a memory is paradise for all the fools like me

Now, remembering is all that I can do
Because I miss him so, when I look at you

Yeah. I had to get a grip and chuckle at my own pathetic emotionality (pathetic in the "arousing pity, esp. through vulnerability or sadness" sense). As I leaned back to put myself behind the peripheral gaze of those next to me, I rested my cheek in my hand, which immediately reminded me of that cheek I loved to feel in my hand and the lips which always kissed my palm. I instinctively, without thinking, put my own lips in my palm and felt my heart skip a beat at the memory, and I immediately stopped when I realized I was conjuring the past, then sadly closed my hand in a loose fist as if you hold on to that feeling, to not replace that sensation with any other, to cherish it one last time. And I sighed and let go a little more, and it was OK.

At intermission, I sent a text to my friend in the show: "Ha, damn that 'When I Look At You' song!" During intermission and after the show, I had trouble not thinking about the lost relationship, being so geographically close but so infinitely distant. I laughed at myself as I thought I was waxing nearly as melodramatic as the show had in parts. And I posted my comment about pushing the bruise. I'm learning, and it's helping. But I'm not quite ready to let the bruise heal completely. Sue me, I'm not always the best at letting go.

Blocked by the opposite of writer's block?

I have so many thoughts milling about politics, religion, spirituality, relationships, social interactions, or whatnot and so many experiences this year that I can't keep up with them in writing. I'm not sure anyone who reads my blog is actually interested in most of the thoughts or daily goings-on, anyway. Or if they are, I'm not sure whether I can articulate them completely enough without the endeavor consuming my free time at the expense of job-hunting, relationships, or personal interests like photography. Balance is a bear.

I also would rather have personal conversations about these things than broadcast them here, because they've reached a point of depth, or sensitivity, or controversy, or whatever, that it's easier to focus on the universal here and approach the finer but more controversial points one-on-one as I talk with y'all personally.

And yet I want to be open to have these thoughts challenged politely and constructively by those with whom I don't normally get to talk or wouldn't dare approach the issues. I want input from those who don't have a large incentive to avoid rocking the boat, as it were, because they see me regularly and don't want to risk our relationship by threatening my security or having their own security threatened by the disagreement.

I don't want to hide these things, either. I don't mean to keep my perspectives a secret. I just prefer to explain them in full as I have opportunity to do so with individuals. So it's easier to leave it alone and just wear my universal hat here. Yet...my drive for authenticity makes this a tense game for me as it calls for increasing dialog and understanding through constructive conflict rather than fostering a false sense of harmony through universality.

Of course, there's the light and fluffy I enjoy sharing, too. It's just that this last year has been such an exploration of self and re-assessment of paradigms that I benefit from articulating it and hammering out the details, and there's so much to explain about where I've been and where I think I'm going. I guess I have a lifetime to philosophize, but it's the exploration, as much as or more than the destination, which fascinates me, so it's hard to set it aside even when I'm OK with not knowing everything now. And again, I want to catch you all up, but maybe I just can't. Maybe that's OK. You don't know what I've been up to or the memories I've been making with various people, you don't know my thoughts as I sit alone, you don't know my shifting paradigms on life, the universe, and everything, and you don't know the experiences, positive and negative, I've had this last month or two or ten. I just can't share it all. But I'll share as I can, and as I think is appropriate, and hey, one-on-one, I'll catch you up as much as you want. Y'know, most of my travel is to visit friends and family, and I'll answer most any question thrown at me. I'm rambling now. I do that.

The short update: I'm well. Life is good, my outlook is hopeful and skeptically optimistic, unemployment is coming to an end (I feel it in my bones), and I haven't been up to anything remarkably exciting, but I've been really enjoying my low-key life.

Good night!