Posts Tagged ‘life’

Attraction

August 18, 2009

Did you ever wonder what attracts people to one another?  What makes them stay together?  See the old couple sitting in Dunkin’ Donuts, not really speaking to one another, sipping on coffee and eating donuts? How did they look when they were young? Was he tall, dark and handsome? Was she blond and pretty?  Now he’s stooped and gray, wearing a tattered flannel shirt, and she’s bent over – osteoporosis? – and her face is wrinkled and fragile looking. She looks tiny and frail.

Were they ever young? Were they ever excited about the future? Did she giggle when he tried to kiss her, or was she as eager as he?  Did they dance, and later make love, to the music of Frank Sinatra or Benny Goodman?  Or were they rebels who hitchhiked across the country, begging food along the way? 

Did they profess undying love?  Do they still, but more quietly, feel that passion?

Did she have dimples that enchanted him when she smiled?  Was his voice deep and resonant, or gravelly and soft?

When their coffee was finished, he stood up haltingly, and he took her arm to help her from the chair. They walked slowly out the door, which he held for her.  As they headed toward their car, he took her hand.  She looked up at him and smiled. 

Yep. She has dimples.

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What Is The Meaning of Life?

May 14, 2009

Oh, yeah, I know. Every writer wants to find the meaning of life.  But I really want to to find the meaning of life.  Really.  I want to know what is the point of all this foolishness.  We get up in the morning, go to work, blah, blah, blah, go home, make dinner, veg a little, then to bed.  Before you know it, we’re up again with the chance to do it all over! And over, and over, and over…

And the worst of it is, we’re tired all the time.

Is this pointless, or what?

Yes, there are weekends.  We count down all week to them. Then they flip by in a minute, and we’re back at the grind waiting for another one.  I just don’t get it.

Anyone?

On Being Tired. On Lack of Sleep.

February 2, 2009

I am having a lot of trouble sleeping. I often fall asleep fairly quickly, but then the slightest thing wakes me. They I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, or toss and turn trying to get comfortable. I tend to have a lot of pain in my neck, and headaches, which may or may not be related. Getting comfortable is not easy.

Generally, after 10 or 15 minutes of this, I get up. I go into the living room to read or go online. Sometimes I stand at the slider and stare out at the stars. If it’s not too freezing, I like to go out on the deck and look at the sky. I can usually see Orion, and the Little Dipper.

Often I am awake until midnight or later. I can sometimes play a game on the computer until my eyes want to close. Then I go back to bed, and either fall asleep, or not. It’s the “not” that is most frustrating. I sometimes have to get up a second time, and that is tough, because I have to be at work at 8 a.m..

Many days I struggle to keep my eyes open. Today is one of those days. I am so tired I want to cry. I realize this is a common issue for women in “the middle years”, but it is very hard to deal with. It does not seem to matter what I eat/drink in the evening. It doesn’t matter if I spray my sheets with lavender, or meditate before going to bed. It is what it is what it is, and I am sick, sick, sick of it.

It’s A (Wonderful?) Life

January 21, 2009

I’m feeling a bit like George Bailey these days, wondering what the world would be like if I’d never been born.  Last night, I lied awake thinking about what would be different.

There is the obvious, of course, that my three children would not have been born, but aside from that I can’t think of anything.  I’ve not saved anyone’s life, or cured any diseases. I haven’t been the deciding vote in any contest of importance. My only creations include some not terribly meaningful blog posts and some unfinished manuscripts.  Lots of poetry that no one reads but me.

Perhaps someday, one of my kids will do something phenomenal, and in their biography I will be listed as the mother. But that is them, not me, and it would be retrospection.

So what does this mean? Am I not real? Am I only alive in my own consciousness?  If I were to suddenly disappear, would their be a void in the world, or simply open space?

Hmmm…..

Madonna’s Millions v. My Lack Thereof

December 15, 2008

Okay, here’s the thing.  Madonna and Guy Ritchie have reached a settlement in their divorce. He is getting 75 million dollars, and she gets her freedom.  Now, I understand that it is not cheap maintaining a luxurious lifestyle in this day and age, but I have a question: Can I have just a little teeny tiny piece of it?  Seriously, a simple 1 million would solve a lot of problems, and possibly nullify the disheartening effects of the damage to my 401k.

One million dollars is only 1.33% of that settlement. I can’t believe he’d miss such a tiny morsel, and yet, for me, it would be huge.  I could pay off my mortgage and my car, and my kids’ student loans, and have enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my life. I’d also take a lovely trip to Disney World.

I promise, it would not change me. I would still donate to the food banks, and the homeless shelters, and support my little girl in India.  I would still clean my own bathrooms, and do my own grocery shopping and cooking.  Yet the burden that has been weighing on me for the past 14 months would be lifted.

So, Guy, whattaya think?  1.33%.  No biggie, hmm?

In Defense of Being a Loner

December 11, 2008

I recently read the book Party of One: The Loner’s Manifesto, by Anneli Rufus, and I must say, it struck a chord with me.  I am a loner, and not only am I okay with it, I prefer it this way.

Cell phones are a marvelous thing, and I am so grateful to have one with me when I travel, or pick someone up at the airport, or drive home alone at night.  But don’t call me, please, unless you have something to say.  And even then, say it, then let me go.  I won’t be offended. Really.

Ancillary to my love of my aloneness is my love of silence.  I don’t need a radio or other device playing when I am home alone, or when I am in the car. I enjoy music, especially this time of the year, but often I find myself in need of quiet to calm my mind after a busy day at work.

Ms. Rufus makes the case that being a loner is  not the equivalent of being weird, or a freak, as is so commonly believed.  Nor is it abnormal.    Numerous artists and great thinkers have been loners: Emily Dickinson, Descartes, Greta Garbo, J.D. Salinger, Einstein, Michelangelo, Isaac Newton……

Yet much of our society insists upon telling us to get out more, socialize more, make friends, get a hobby.

I have hobbies, lots of them. I read, I play on the computer, I do scrapbooking and crafts.  I cook. I write.  And I never ever feel the need to have someone join me in those activities.  I am comfortable with this.  I do not need to join clubs or do volunteer work or have a busy career to feel fulfilled.  I enjoy my own company.

Going home at the end of the day is my greatest joy, and when a co-worker asks what I have planned for a weekend, I gleefully say, “nothing”.

If you think about it, this is an ideal way to live.  I have friends, both real and virtual. I love my family.  I enjoy being with all of them, but when I am alone, I am happy, too.

So please don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t feel you need to invite me to dinner if my husband is out of town.  I’m good.

How Did I Get Here?

February 13, 2008

Yesterday I was 35.  Had 3 kids, a husband,  a home, and a dog.

Today I’m 56. Kids are grown, different husband, no pets, another home.

How did that happen?

Me, at 56.

I’m confused.