Reflections

To Be or Not To Be (Liked)

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From an early age we learn that it is good to be liked. To be liked by our teachers, neighbors, family members and especially peers. We come to understand that it is important to be found pleasing in the eyes of others and to be someone that they enjoy being around. Therefore, it is basic elementary logic to say that from an early age we ALSO comprehend what it means NOT to be liked.

Whatever your first encounter with not being liked looked like, we have all had one. And it is beyond terrible. It usually happens in the sandbox and it is tear-your-heart-out-throw-it-in-the-sand-and-stomp-on-it awful. But somehow we survive and we wind up surrounding ourselves with the people who DO like us… and we continue on our merry way toward adulthood.

As we age, however, I believe we wind up in one of two camps. The I’m-so-cool-I-don’t-care-whether-you-like-me-or-not camp OR the I-WANT-no-make-that-I-NEED-everyone-to-like-me camp. Unfortunately, my tent is firmly staked in the soil of the latter. And life is harder for people like me. Oh how I wish I could be one of those people who doesn’t give a damn what others think of them.

I am 36 years old and STILL troubled if/when someone doesn’t like me. For example, (yes, this is the whole hopefully-cathartic reason I am writing this in the first place) there is someone in my life right now who just DOES NOT LIKE ME. I have no idea why. What’s not to like? I ask myself this question. You don’t know me. How can you NOT like me when you don’t even know me?

In order to protect myself from further misguided hatred I will not say whether this person is a he or a she or in what capacity they are a “part of my life.”  But suffice it to say that they have made it abundantly clear they have zero time for me as well as ZERO interest in ever speaking to or getting to know me.

This puzzles me.

Please don’t mistake my puzzlement for a massive ego. (Puzzlement? Is that a word? Spell-check isn’t flagging it, so it must be. Cool!) Anyway, I don’t believe—contrary to what my family might tell you—that I am perfect or that the sun rises and sets on me. I just don’t think—to the best of my recollection—that I have done anything worthy of such unsolicited disdain. I’m a very friendly person. I’m a complimentary (though genuine) person, and probably the best measure of all is the fact that I make friends easily and often. Wherever I go.

Joanna plays well with others.

So what the hell then, is this person’s problem? (Heavy sighing) I don’t know. I have asked myself a million times and a million and one times I have come up empty. I guess they just don’t. I have absolutely no clue as to why, but for continued health and happiness (and lower blood pressure) I realize I must let them go. And perhaps… PERHAPS this could be one giant step toward seeking out a plot of land in that OTHER, more-desirable, cooler camp.

How To “Vacation” Every Day

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I walked in the door and the sandy, muddy shoes would tumble to the floor. The carpet—soft beneath my bare and tired feet—felt absolutely luxurious. I immediately started to run hot water in the tub while peeling off the rumpled clothes of the day. Sinking into the warmth that soon enveloped this weary traveler, I felt both cleansed and relaxed at once.

My toes wandered to the spigot, playing peek-a-boo above and beneath the water. Staring at and beyond the mirrored reflection of my brightly-polished toenails was my only entertainment … and it was more than enough. “Ahhh sweet, sweet vacation”  I thought to myself and closed my eyes while the stress of the days leading up to these precious few just melted away.

And then it occurred to me. This isn’t some fancy jacuzzi with high-powered jets and a special tray for trashy novels and fruity cocktails. It was a standard, run-of-the-mill bathtub… and I have the exact same one at home. AND, I just happen to have hot water and carpeting too. So why don’t I indulge in this most glorious and peaceful of practices more often?

That’s a really good question. Why don’t I?

And for that matter, why don’t I also…

Drive with the sunroof open and the windows rolled down? Enjoy more wine with my meal? And take my time while eating it? Listen to my favorite CDs instead of the crap they offer up on the radio? Go for a walk and leave my watch at home? Eat ice cream from a sugar cone? People watch … and then laugh at them? (Oh wait, I already do that.) Discover the beauty in the common intricacies of nature? Put my feet up, sit still and turn my face toward the heat of the sun? Set down the remote and pick up a book?

I guess I think I’m in a hurry. There’s always too much to do and not enough time to do it. I couldn’t dare pause progress in order to do such frivolous things. But here’s the truth … there IS time, and I CAN do these things—I just don’t arrange my life in such a way as to make them a priority. For some reason, Americans tend to believe that we must take time off from work, spend money, pack our bags and disappear to some far-flung corner of the globe in order to truly “get away from it all.”

Not that there’s anything wrong with THAT. I happen to adore far flung corners of the globe.

HOWEVER… a few weeks ago, while on vacation, I learned that many of the BEST things… many of the most treasured things were the things I could have been doing all along… If only I made the time.

Silence is Golden

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“Joanna is an excellent student. She completes all of her schoolwork on time, is polite, plays well with others and keeps her desk neat and tidy. However… SHE WILL NOT STOP TALKING!!!”

This is often how the “progress reports” from my elementary school teachers read. Of course they didn’t quite word them that way, but amidst all of the “Joanna-is-doing-everything-well” reporting was—without fail—some mention of my amazing gift of gab and how it would be desirable if I were to get it under control.

Hello, my name is Joanna and I am a talkaholic. However, I have recently discovered the true value of Silence. Not the I’m-taking-a-VOW-of-silence kind of silence… (sorry everyone) but the “Silence Is Golden” kind of silence. We’ve all heard the famously-quoted proverb a thousand times and although the origin of the phrase remains a mystery—for one who is addicted to words and sounds—those 5 syllables carry a tremendous amount of weight.

Let me share with you how I stumbled across this treasure. In an effort to achieve some semblance of sanity, I have made it a personal goal to get more sleep. I’ve been going to bed earlier and relaxing by writing in my journal or reading rather than watching TV. But the TV is usually STILL on in the background. I don’t know why… for some reason I find it comforting to hear the familiar voices of 4 friends (let’s call them Jerry, Elaine, George and Kramer) sitting around a coffee shop or a tiny New York apartment bemoaning the minutia of their existence. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

The other night I decided to turn the TV off and read in total silence. And although it was a bit foreign to me at first, it was completely wonderful! So wonderful, in fact, that it felt absolutely luxurious! Who knew silence could be this enjoyable? Besides my family, boyfriend and friends. For a moment, I put the book down and just listened to the nothingness that surrounded me. I took a deep breath, soaking in as much as possible as though this sheer state of nirvana could be stored. I knew that all too soon—with the nagging of the alarm clock—this beautiful quiet would be shattered by the noise of life in the digital age.

Now, I’m not a twitterer, which is surprising given how much I like to talk, write, converse, chit-chat, chew the fat, stay in the loop, laugh, giggle, whisper, yell, shout, sing and just be heard in general. But with the help of twitter, not to mention all other forms of social media, smart phones, iPods, radio, cable and the internet… not only are we in touch with one another 24/7… we are surrounded by constant sound as well. So it’s perfectly understandable that the absence of noise was such music to my ears!

Every evening across America, it is not uncommon for the typical household to have the TV (or TVs) blaring and computer glowing while talking or texting is taking place. We can literally be catching up on the news, watching football on ESPN and the dramatic story of a woman scorned on Lifetime… while simultaneously communicating with multiple people in multiple ways. We can be texting, chatting, instant messaging, emailing, writing on walls, poking, tagging and twittering all at once. And this is what we are doing with our DOWN time… never mind what we encounter during the workday.

It’s no wonder we’re all stressed out and hopped up on antidepressants. And don’t be salty with me for saying that. (Which kind are YOU taking?) If you aren’t taking anything yet—give it time. At the rate we’re going… you will be. Unless, that is, you take the time to stop and listen… to the sound of silence.

Everyday Courage

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So I’m sitting here thinking about courage. In part because I’ve always admired it in others, but mainly because I find myself in desperate need of some lately.

No, I’m not charting a course to sail around the world, or scaling Mt. Everest or taking up spelunking (not that I haven’t considered it) I am just finding myself in short supply these days. However, let me be clear about one thing though… Oddly, I don’t seem to need courage for Life’s big things… these I’ve always sort of handled… well, better anyway. It is the everyday things that get to me.

At first I considered compiling a list, just for me, of ALL of the courageous things I’ve done for as long as I can remember… These would include, but are not limited to: Wrestling into submission a 250 lb. college football player whose sole responsibility was to try and drown me during my lifeguard certification test… and prevailing! Traveling via train across the country by myself when I was just 18, climbing 14,000+ ft. mountain peaks, learning to SCUBA dive in the open ocean and taking up kickboxing to ward off fear.

Perhaps thinking back on those “Gut Check” or “Swallow-Your-Fears-and-Dive-Right-In” experiences would help me summon the courage I need to tackle the regular stuff? And you may be wondering what IS the regular stuff? The “regular stuff” consists of (but is not limited to) accepting myself for who I am. Right now. Today. Letting things go. Forgiving a slight. Forgiving a grudge. Forgiving myself. Holding my head high in the presence of that person who “just doesn’t like me.” Smiling brightly when on the inside I am crumbling. Doing more for others. Doing the right thing. Telling the truth. All the time. To everyone. About everything. Being a better daughter, sister, aunt, girlfriend, co-worker, team-player and friend. Occasionally it is even as simple as getting out of bed in the morning and taking care of business when all I want to do is pull the covers over my head.

So why do these smaller, everyday things require so much more courage than literally diving off a pier into unknown waters? I haven’t quite figured that mystery out yet… perhaps I never will. But I suppose if I can continue climbing up the side of a mountain long after my body and my lungs have said “HELL NO”…  I can certainly get out of bed each morning and tackle the everyday things that life will inevitably toss my way.

Filling the Pages

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“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” ~ Mark Twain

Inspiring words, no matter your age. And although I cannot yet say that I am examining my life from the perspective of 20 years ago … I believe I am far enough to say that I wholeheartedly agree with him. Ideally each one of us would look back on our lives and feel no disappointment whatsoever. But realistically, when we do look back—if there is any disappointment present—it most likely lies within the things we did NOT do rather than those we DID do.

The opportunity we did not explore… The path we did not take… The dream we did not chase. The place we did not go… The thing we did not say…

On the night before I went off to college, I sat on my bed journaling. I was thrilled about all of the things that were in front of me. It may sound cliché, but I remember the feeling like it was yesterday. The world was my oyster. Places to go, people to meet and experiences to have. Trying to capture my excitement in ink, I wrote the following: “I feel as though my life is rolled out in front of me like a warm and welcoming stretch of highway. I cannot wait to see where it will lead! Soon these things will be over and the pages of this journal will be full and everything will be a memory.”

I am twice as old today than I was when I penned those words. I am grateful that I grasped that concept when I was only 18 because those very pages are now full of some awesome memories. But I just can’t believe how quickly they filled! As we age and the restrictions of responsibilities creep in, it becomes more challenging to adopt Twain’s philosophy, but it’s not impossible. I believe that his words are not only for the young. As long as we’re breathing there are pages left to fill. Starting now… Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

If I Could Tell Her

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It is without a doubt, my favorite time of day. The house is dark save for the soft light pouring from the lamp on my nightstand. I’ve put to bed all of the concerns of the hours leading up to this one and I’ve curled up with just a pen and a clean, white page in my leather-bound journal. I scribble the date at the top of the page and begin to write. All is silent and still. These minutes belong only to me.

I write about anything and everything from the mundane events of ordinary life and noteworthy events to frustrations, disappointments, successes and failures. And naturally, there is the occasional, profanity-laced rant. The writing is cathartic. But sometimes just the feel of the soft leather book in my hands and the sound of the spine crackling as I pry it open, is a reward in and of itself.

On one particular evening while venting about a personal frustration, I looked up from my journal and out into the hallway. My gaze fell upon a single photograph hanging among many. It is a picture of a young girl, about 4 or 5 years old, wearing a little red sweatshirt with the hood up, tied tight. She is perched on a large stone step with her chin buried in the crook of her tiny arm, looking as though she’s carrying the weight of the world on her small shoulders. She is clearly contemplating something, though I know not what.

I’ve walked by this photo a thousand times, but on this particular night, I was struck by an overwhelming compulsion. I wanted desperately in that moment to run to her, scoop her baby face into my 36-year-old hands and tell her so many things! No, I have not lost my mind. I know that this was never a viable option. But so powerful was my urge to do this impossible thing that I imagined what the encounter might look like…

I would tell her not to be in such a hurry to grow up and to think before she speaks. I would caution her not to be so hard on herself as she grows older and to never waste precious tears on stupid boys who’ll break her heart and awful girls who’ll act like her friends when they are anything but. I would tell her that there are amazing things out there! So many places to see, experiences to enjoy, moments to relish and victories she’ll never dream possible.

There will be times of tremendous joy, celebration and heart-stopping laughter. And times when the pain will be SO sharp, she’ll truly believe that she cannot go on. She’ll love with her whole heart and grieve when the same love disappoints. That oftentimes with incredible discovery can come unimaginable loss. Yet I would also impart to her that strength can be found in the smiles of strangers and on the big, broad shoulders of true friends… and that sometimes salvation will be found when and where she least expects it. I’d share with her the valuable secrets that she will one day stand on top of mountains and delve into the depths of the ocean. I would tell her that Life is really just one giant, scary, lovely, messy adventure and that she shouldn’t waste one single breath of it thinking she’s not enough.

But then again, perhaps I wouldn’t say anything to her at all. She will find out entirely on her own… everything in its time… and it will make her the person that I see in the mirror every day.