Sink, Fly, Float. Repeat


We all have our weaknesses. Some of them we don’t even recognize, some of them we learn to live with, and some other we try to overcome.

One of my “strongest” weaknesses has always been being too nice. It could also be described as “being a sucker”.

I remember situations in the past when I can see clearly how stupid, or naive or both I have been. I can feel the frustration of my current self, seeing how badly my previous self was being treated and how I did nothing to change it.

Over the course of many many years of self-training, I have been learning to look after myself first, analyzing every bit of other people’s reaction to understand whether I was being taken advantage of or not, whether they were being truthful, just wanted something from me or they were just laughing at my expense. For years I’ve re-educated myself to be mean, ruthless and not caring about other people’s opinion, to despise other ways of thinking if I didn’t like the person, being purposely resentful and actually enjoying the whole process without feeling guilty.

On the positive side, it is a good improvement for me somehow, because I’ve learned that I can change things that were embedded in my personality when I was a kid. On the negative side, that sort of detachment that keeps me from feeling so much pain, makes me a bit of an iceberg (or even a not-so-passive hammer) sometimes.

I block situations or comments or people altogether when they hurt and I build an isolating wall of spite sound them, while my mind goes other way to forget about the pain.

If for so many years I was very nice and so many afterwards I wasn’t, so what, the average still comes out as ok, right? But it reminds me of the way a rubber ball would behave if you throw it violently against water: it will sink in the beginning, then it will also violently fly back up out if the water to finally quietly float. 

I guess I’d rather be unlinked than taken for a fool. I see it as a survival instinct, but I guess that doesn’t make it alright.

(This post best read while listening to:

When Anger Shows by Editors)

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Peanuts (the Greener Side)

  

 
It is already February. It is time to realize whether we are still committed to our new year’s resolutions or we are already leaving them to be forgotten until next January.

My main resolution this year was to not complain so much, to live things as they come and enjoy every moment. No more thinking about the past, and thinking only a little (whatever is just necessary) about the future.

I realized there will always be situations that are going to bother me, but now what I just tell myself is “peanuts”. Then I turn around and start thinking about something else. I am aware it sounds strange but this is my reasoning:

We have all heard that grass is greener on the other side, so therefore, why are we not looking at our grass from the other side of the street? When I’m not happy about something now, I step outside of my life for a moment and see it from the outside, see it how everyone else sees it and sees me. Seeing things from accross the street makes them seem shinier, lighter, better and happier. I realize that my life is good and the things I complain about are just “peanuts”, nothing, nonsense.

I have the most wonderful friends. I have a job that I like. I have amazing work colleagues. I have an extraordinary life companion. I live in a free country, I travel, I do fun activities… The list could go on. (And yours could too!).

It turns out after all, it is not so bad to be me.
[This post best read while listening to:

My Bloody Mind by Maximo Park]

This Is It (Flying High)

This post is number one hundred. This post is written from the bottom of a knot I feel in my chest. This knot thinks of me from time to time and insistently bumps my insides to remind me of its presence.

I can feel this knot growing every time I look into one particular person’s eyes.

We whisper to each other all sorts of things, and I know that it is each other’s knots speaking. They are connected one.
It is amazing how these knots have brought with them a new measure of time. Before they were there, a year was a thousand years, and now fifty years is not long enough. A lifetime (our lifetime) does not seem long enough.

Any words we could possibly utter are not deep enough, and we know this because we’ve used them all.

They can not fully express what we feel so we stare at each other and we let our knotted insides talk. They know. We know.
This is bigger than me and bigger than us. It is overwhelming, it feels bigger than life.
I know when we’re gone we’ll be there, we’ll find each other again.

He started being the little island I could escape to whenever I needed to, now he’s fully becoming the ground I stand on.

This is the first time I don’t feel I have to look further, like I have to keep searching. I don’t feel scared that tomorrow it might not be what I want.
This has to be what it feels like. This has to be it.

 

(This post best read while listening to:

Higher Love by Depeche Mode)

A Leap of Faith (All In)


There are times in your life when you feel like jumping off board, others like jumping into a pool, sometimes like jumping out of a window, or needing to jump over an obstacle, or jumping at a sudden chance, or jumping on a plane and just leave and not look back.

I would say that I tend to be very cautious and I like to see where I’m going to land before I even stand up. My latest approach to life though is rather opposed to that, it is to live and to enjoy, and that’s it.

This is the time though when I really need to prove that I’ll follow that approach. It is the time to either take a huge leap of faith, or decide to let the the rubber band do its dance one again: first closer, then further away, and repeat again.

On the one hand, I know very well how the rubber band works, and I have no clue whether I’ll land on my feet when I jump. On the other hand, could the jumping be worth it? Absolutely. I have no doubt it could be amazing.

I am a hundred percent sure the leap is the way to go. I’ve wrapped up the self convincing arguments and made up my mind to it and to everything else that comes along.

I am committed to the jump. There we go, my friend, wherever it’ll lead us to, it’s life to its fullest, all in.


[This Post Best Read While Listening to:

Dance on a Volcano by Genesis]

Playing It Big

 A few weeks ago, amidst the wild storm of events I’ve been submerged into lately, I had a very interesting conversation with a really good friend.
He’s an amazing person who doesn’t tell you the right things, because he’d rather ask you the right questions, and I absolutely love him for that.

We have spoken so many other times of life and love, of love and hate, of hate and forgiveness, of forgiveness and happiness.
Last time, it ended up being a 3 hour-long conversation that lasted until almost 5am on a school night. This time it was a 4 hour-long discussion that felt like a few months worth of talking but condensed in what felt like just an hour. It was a very much needed talk.

Amongst the many things we discussed that night, one of them came back to my mind unexpectedly a few days ago, like the sort of things that you remember from a dream when a few hours have passed: it really hits you and you remember and think about it nonstop for a while. Since remembering, I can’t shake it.

This time it was about life, and how in order to make it big (meaning having a complete and happy life) we have to play it big. True that we could lose big too. But if we don’t risk because we are afraid to lose, we would be living only halfway. And living halfway is like losing somehow.

It seemed so simple, but at the same time so complicated. Sometimes we lack the push, the will, the guts, because we are scare of losing. But losing the chance of doing something because of fear, it’s still that: losing.
So let’s play it big.

I’ve recently put myself (or circumstances might have put me) in a position in which the result could be a huge win or a huge loss. This hand has being played for many many years but it feels this time is the definite one. The best (or the worst) could be yet to come.
Wish me luck.

(This post best read while listening to:
Lightning Risked It All by Songs:Ohia)

One Out of Three

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Long time no see.

I haven’t posted for a while. Busy times followed by traumatic times. Either way, it hasn’t been about finding things to say, but about focusing in just one thing at a time without wandering off more than the usual.

At this point I don’t even know what this post is going to be called and that is very unlike me.

I’ve recently experienced the loss of my younger brother, the only one I had. This is when life unfolds unexpectedly once again just to pull the rug under your feet and watch you fall.

Going through my brother’s paperwork I found out that he kept a journal, at least for a short period of time. I found out that he loved to write, and we had so many things in common without even realizing. He was highly sensitive and highly reserved, especially with family, he seemed to share little parts of his life with different people, so that only by collecting information from them all you would be able to paint the whole picture. It’s like distributing pieces of one puzzle: one piece, and one person at a time. No one can really understand what the whole image could look like when put together.

It’s sad to start really knowing him after he’s gone. I would have preferred to not getting to know him at all but knowing that he was still there.

Out of three siblings, I am the only one left. I am still undecided whether I am really sad or really mad at him.

I used to think (and tell everyone) that even though my brother and I didn’t speak so often, we knew that we were there for each other whenever we needed. I feel disappointed that he didn’t feel that way about me.

We are were so alike. I could have been him and he could have been me. My beautiful child.

Those of you who read me often enough know that besides a picture, I always pick a song to go with my posts. The one I’m including today has a special significance. I strongly believe in signs, in Synchronicity or whichever way you’d like to call it. As I sat down to type in this post, I opened my iTunes library and set it to play on shuffle. This particular song came up first out of over 2,600 songs there are in my laptop. Not much more to say.

(This post best read while listening to:

My Brother’s Eyes by A Life in Waiting)

Going Solo

I am amazingly surprised at myself lately. I’ve either grown a much thicker skin or I’ve finally learned.
I am amazed at how little I mind how I spend my time. Except for the occasional friend I go out with, I spend most days doing things on my own. I could even say that sometimes I avoid people’s company or even talking to anybody. I am realizing how few people I have left that I care for that much. And the number keeps decreasing alarmingly.

Truth is this post could have also be called: I couldn’t possibly care less.

Sometimes I feel I am forcing myself to being on my own as a self punishment. Why? Who knows. For trusting people? For feeling stupid? Truth is I’ve found out I’m as hard on others as I am on myself. I consider myself extremely loyal and therefore I expect the same. If I am betrayed, betrayal is always betrayal, no matter what it is and no matter how long ago it was: loyalty is forever broken.
It makes sense why (and how) I am so easily disappointed at people. My standards are high. Because I am my standard.

So f*** it. I write people off, so what? They’ve earned it, just as much as I have not.
I’m doing it so often that it has become like driving: when after a while you are not a hundred per cent conscious of how you’re holding the steering wheel or stepping on the pedals.

Truth is though, that I am tired of having to do so many things on my own.
Truth is too, that on the other hand I am not willing to change that. Not only I am not willing, but I strongly refuse to. Because I’m done.

(This post best read while listening to:
The First Song by Band of Horses)