As soon as the series finale of Lost ended, I went to the discussion boards to see what people thought about it. To my surprise, a lot of people were dissatisfied, wanting more from the ending, and wishing more questions had been cleared up.
This surprised me even though I know that having all of one's questions answered after reading a long mystery is one of the ultimate rewards and satisfactions one can achieve. But the whole nature of the show Lost seemed -- at least to me -- not ever to be about resolving mysteries, but rather of stretching the bounds of belief. Fiction is, after all, about conjuring up made-up worlds and in these worlds, sometimes things just exist. There is no why to them. That is just the way they are. That is how that world exists. We don't ask why trees exist, why animals exist, why we have oceans, or why there is a Jabba the Hut, or why magical spells only work in ancient or made-up languages. They just do.
But most of the fun of Lost (I gather from all the discussions and reviews about it) came from being able to ask, "Why?" "Why this?" and "Why that?" And people came up with their own theories and ideas. I think in crafting this ending, the writers wanted to stay true to that ability with Lost. They wanted to leave room for interpretation, so that not just one theory could hold true but dozens upon dozens of theories. That's what writers like to do. And the more theories you can leave plausible, the better you feel about your writing, because then you know that it has engaged other people's imagination and becomes bigger than you could ever imagine. The world abounds in mysteries and interpretations and being able to come even somewhat close to that ability, gives a writer one of the greatest satisfactions. To be cut and dried was never the tone of Lost, anyway, and the ending was the same.
To be fair, I did not watch the full six seasons of Lost. I watched the first, some of the second, and then the fifth and sixth. So maybe that is why I am satisfied with the ending. I wasn't exposed to all of the mysteries of the island and left wondering about them, and hoping the ending would answer them. Whatever mysteries I was exposed to, I was left satisfied by the ending.
Of course, the real reason I headed for the discussion boards soon after the show was to see if people's interpretations of the ending weren't like mine. One of the first posts I read from an LA Times blog scoffed at the terrible ending, saying that it was a terrible way to end the show because it meant that they had all died when the plane crashed and everything after that had been purgatory and unreal. I found the author's outrage to be ridiculous (although the presumption was plausible, if you wanted to believe that) and rated her so, and was glad to see others had rated her remarks the same. It was ridiculous because she obviously watched the show with an eye to criticize, and because she touted her interpretation as the ultimate and only answer.
In my interpretation, which I found an ally with in another article and felt keenly validated, Jack dies at the end when his eyes close, after saving his friends and the island. He becomes a martyr and dies a hero, happy but alone. Everything on the island really happened. And then we learn that all these flash sideways were actually a flash of their afterlives in some sort of middle world before heaven, and that is why when the characters are touched by someone who meant a lot to them, their lives flash before their eyes. And though Jack died alone on the island, in the end, he gets to be with all the people he loved.
I think the writers wanted to end it this way because it would have been such a terribly sad and empty ending if Jack just saved everyone and died alone. They wanted to show that he got to be reunited with everyone and got to be happy in the end; thus why some people, like me, saw the ending as emotionally fulfilling and beautiful.
The one thing I kept thinking about today was that saying, by John Donne, "No man is an island unto himself." If the island symbolized anything, it was the figurative island we all sometimes think we live on, and the character Jack especially. We think that we are alone in the world, and nothing we do matters, when in reality, we are not alone, and what we do does matter. We affect other people, and they affect us, and the connections we make are the most important parts of our lives. Jack begins on a figurative island, goes to a literal island, and ends in a place where there are no islands, but just people he loves.
That's a good ending.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Things Can Change Quickly
My garbage disposal broke, or it soon will, it seems. And it got me to thinking, "I could leave this place."
I have been thinking that I wanted to stay where I am, that I would be really sad to leave, but now I wonder if I couldn't possible leave; that I would be ok with it.
Maybe I need to change the furniture around again; who knows? Or maybe the garbage disposal is the last straw. But it seems I'm ready for something new.
This is a really great place and yet I feel I could move on from it. Just a few moments ago, I would not have ever dreamt that I could feel this way. So we'll see how long it lasts.
It's funny though, how fast things can change and how feelings you thought were constant can come around to a place you never thought they'd be.
I have been thinking that I wanted to stay where I am, that I would be really sad to leave, but now I wonder if I couldn't possible leave; that I would be ok with it.
Maybe I need to change the furniture around again; who knows? Or maybe the garbage disposal is the last straw. But it seems I'm ready for something new.
This is a really great place and yet I feel I could move on from it. Just a few moments ago, I would not have ever dreamt that I could feel this way. So we'll see how long it lasts.
It's funny though, how fast things can change and how feelings you thought were constant can come around to a place you never thought they'd be.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Happy Mother's Day
Happy Mother's Day to my mom and to all the other moms in the world.
And thank you. You made our lives possible.
And thank you. You made our lives possible.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
The Unhappy Choice
Compared to other nations, America is pretty well off. Most people can afford a roof over their heads, clothes on their backs, food for their stomachs (too much food actually), cars to drive them to work, and cellphones, Ipods, and what-have-you. We have so many modern conveniences that make our every day life, well, convenient, but for all that, we are not a happy nation.
So why are we so unhappy?
Too much choice makes us unhappy. So says my friend who read a book with just that hypothesis, and I am inclined to agree.
We have a lot of choice here. We have a lot of freedom here. A lot of people, especially people who never travel abroad, don't realize how great it is that we can say whatever we want and not worry about being imprisoned or killed by our government. They don't know any worse, so they don't realize how well off they are. They are like people who constantly sit in first-class all their lives and expect to be spoiled by everyone, including their government.
That's the problem with having a lot of choice -- we get spoiled by it. We start to think that we're entitled to everything because we have the power to pick and choose what we want. And if we're not happy, we can jump ship as soon as we find something better. Choice makes us work less hard to be happy with what we have. And it makes us constantly crave to have something better; whatever we don't have at the moment always seems better than what we have right now. But the thing is, choice -- too much choice -- doesn't make us happy because we can never be content. It drives us to always constantly think, "I could do better," instead of, "I'm happy with what I've got."
When we have too much choice, we don't realize that we have control over our happiness. Instead, we think that things have control over our happiness. And if we could just get this thing or that thing, we'd be happy. But we aren't, because things don't make us happy, at least not for long. We get used to them and then they fail to bring us joy any longer.
When we choose, we like the feeling that we made the right choice, the best choice. We like the idea that we couldn't have done any better. That feeling makes us happy. Having too much choice takes away that feeling. And it leaves us feeling like we can never do good enough; something else will always be better.
If we can never be content with any choice we make for long, how can we ever hope to attain long-term fulfillment?
Perhaps what we need to do -- because we can't eliminate the choices that life gives us or pretend we don't see them -- is to change our perspective, and most of all, to give ourselves some slack. Why do we need to have the best of everything? We don't. And the notion of the best, at some point, is subjective, at best. As long as we are happy, can find happiness, that is what matters.
So why are we so unhappy?
Too much choice makes us unhappy. So says my friend who read a book with just that hypothesis, and I am inclined to agree.
We have a lot of choice here. We have a lot of freedom here. A lot of people, especially people who never travel abroad, don't realize how great it is that we can say whatever we want and not worry about being imprisoned or killed by our government. They don't know any worse, so they don't realize how well off they are. They are like people who constantly sit in first-class all their lives and expect to be spoiled by everyone, including their government.
That's the problem with having a lot of choice -- we get spoiled by it. We start to think that we're entitled to everything because we have the power to pick and choose what we want. And if we're not happy, we can jump ship as soon as we find something better. Choice makes us work less hard to be happy with what we have. And it makes us constantly crave to have something better; whatever we don't have at the moment always seems better than what we have right now. But the thing is, choice -- too much choice -- doesn't make us happy because we can never be content. It drives us to always constantly think, "I could do better," instead of, "I'm happy with what I've got."
When we have too much choice, we don't realize that we have control over our happiness. Instead, we think that things have control over our happiness. And if we could just get this thing or that thing, we'd be happy. But we aren't, because things don't make us happy, at least not for long. We get used to them and then they fail to bring us joy any longer.
When we choose, we like the feeling that we made the right choice, the best choice. We like the idea that we couldn't have done any better. That feeling makes us happy. Having too much choice takes away that feeling. And it leaves us feeling like we can never do good enough; something else will always be better.
If we can never be content with any choice we make for long, how can we ever hope to attain long-term fulfillment?
Perhaps what we need to do -- because we can't eliminate the choices that life gives us or pretend we don't see them -- is to change our perspective, and most of all, to give ourselves some slack. Why do we need to have the best of everything? We don't. And the notion of the best, at some point, is subjective, at best. As long as we are happy, can find happiness, that is what matters.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Agree to be Disagreeable
The other night, I was talking to this guy, and afterwards I realized that maybe I shouldn't have been so agreeable.
That is not to say that I was nice to him or even kind, I was actually rather cool to him. Of course, he himself was not a very kind, positive person, but rather a somewhat ornery, moody person and that was the reason I treated him as I did -- giving him as good as he gave -- but it occurred to me later that I didn't have to do that.
You see, the thing is, he flattered me and he disparaged himself, and I agreed with him. I enjoyed his flattery and I agreed with his disparagement, even teasing him when he called himself a "mean drunk" by saying "you can be meaner?" I was joking, in my way, but also not. I did think him somewhat mean at times. And so I let it be known, but I did it in a way that might have made it seem that he was overly mean -- which he isn't, most of the time.
I wished afterwards that I could have seen him for more than he was; for his potential rather than the image he was showing to me at that moment. And it occurred to me that it used to make me so angry when people would see me for who I was at that moment, instead of seeing me for the potential I had to grow and be better. And here I was doing it to this poor fellow. He's hurting, I think, in other ways, and that's his way of dealing. There is a reason he is the way he is, just like there is a reason I'm the way I am, and a reason other people are the way they are.
The next day I realized that even though he was disparaging himself, I didn't have to join in. I could have been the one to see the good in him, so that maybe he could see the good in himself a little more.
So what I learned is that you shouldn't agree with people when they're disparaging themselves. Even if it seems like mindless fun and enjoyment, and you're just joking and teasing, the unintended consequence is that you might really be saying something that harms someone and their impression of themself. If you set the standard that they are the way they are and can't change, then they will feel that and cater to that standard. But if you set the bar higher, you give them a chance to prove that they can be better.
That is not to say that I was nice to him or even kind, I was actually rather cool to him. Of course, he himself was not a very kind, positive person, but rather a somewhat ornery, moody person and that was the reason I treated him as I did -- giving him as good as he gave -- but it occurred to me later that I didn't have to do that.
You see, the thing is, he flattered me and he disparaged himself, and I agreed with him. I enjoyed his flattery and I agreed with his disparagement, even teasing him when he called himself a "mean drunk" by saying "you can be meaner?" I was joking, in my way, but also not. I did think him somewhat mean at times. And so I let it be known, but I did it in a way that might have made it seem that he was overly mean -- which he isn't, most of the time.
I wished afterwards that I could have seen him for more than he was; for his potential rather than the image he was showing to me at that moment. And it occurred to me that it used to make me so angry when people would see me for who I was at that moment, instead of seeing me for the potential I had to grow and be better. And here I was doing it to this poor fellow. He's hurting, I think, in other ways, and that's his way of dealing. There is a reason he is the way he is, just like there is a reason I'm the way I am, and a reason other people are the way they are.
The next day I realized that even though he was disparaging himself, I didn't have to join in. I could have been the one to see the good in him, so that maybe he could see the good in himself a little more.
So what I learned is that you shouldn't agree with people when they're disparaging themselves. Even if it seems like mindless fun and enjoyment, and you're just joking and teasing, the unintended consequence is that you might really be saying something that harms someone and their impression of themself. If you set the standard that they are the way they are and can't change, then they will feel that and cater to that standard. But if you set the bar higher, you give them a chance to prove that they can be better.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Sweet Revenge
Recently I saw a guy that I really liked many years ago.
We were at an event when I heard his voice. He has a distinctive voice, and so I turned and saw that it was him. And he looked the same. It was as if no time had passed at all for him. And I don't say that in an altogether good way as you might think. His hair, his clothes, his style were still the same. He was still the same. When I had liked him, I had thought he was so cool. He was so different from other guys, so laid back. And now when I saw him, I thought, "Wow, you haven't changed at all. You're still the same. You're rather boring."
The universe was very kind to me because we met at an event, and so I dressed up for the occasion. If I had seem him on the way to the grocery store, I might have had a different experience to say the least, but I saw him when I was all dolled up; and he was way dressed down (which he seems to be for every occasion, thus the reason for the boring factor).
Later in the evening, I looked at him again where there was more light because I wanted to make sure it was for sure him. And at that moment I saw that he was looking at me. His eyes looked happy, and I realized, "He does have cute eyes," but then I turned away. And that was that.
And after that night, I was very happy. Nothing really happened except inside myself. And yet I was so very satisfied. I realized how silly it was for me to have liked him so much, when we really had nothing in common. It's funny how your fantasies build up people. And I realized that I no longer cared about him. That was nice; a very satisfying victory on my part.
I also realized that the sweetest revenge you can have on an ex is to look really good and ignore him. Ah, it is so sweet.
We were at an event when I heard his voice. He has a distinctive voice, and so I turned and saw that it was him. And he looked the same. It was as if no time had passed at all for him. And I don't say that in an altogether good way as you might think. His hair, his clothes, his style were still the same. He was still the same. When I had liked him, I had thought he was so cool. He was so different from other guys, so laid back. And now when I saw him, I thought, "Wow, you haven't changed at all. You're still the same. You're rather boring."
The universe was very kind to me because we met at an event, and so I dressed up for the occasion. If I had seem him on the way to the grocery store, I might have had a different experience to say the least, but I saw him when I was all dolled up; and he was way dressed down (which he seems to be for every occasion, thus the reason for the boring factor).
Later in the evening, I looked at him again where there was more light because I wanted to make sure it was for sure him. And at that moment I saw that he was looking at me. His eyes looked happy, and I realized, "He does have cute eyes," but then I turned away. And that was that.
And after that night, I was very happy. Nothing really happened except inside myself. And yet I was so very satisfied. I realized how silly it was for me to have liked him so much, when we really had nothing in common. It's funny how your fantasies build up people. And I realized that I no longer cared about him. That was nice; a very satisfying victory on my part.
I also realized that the sweetest revenge you can have on an ex is to look really good and ignore him. Ah, it is so sweet.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Can You Be Too Beautiful For Your Own Good?
I just read an article that Halle Berry recently split with her baby's father, Gabriel Aubry, and I found it really sad. For one thing, I always get sad when celebrity couples whom I like break up (Tom and Nicole, Brad and Jen); but for another thing, this latest breakup got me to thinking again: Is it impossible to be a beautiful woman and happy in love?
Just look at lovely Sandra Bullock: Beautiful, successful, and with a cheating, soon-to-be ex-husband. I was thinking that perhaps Halle chose too well with her guy being a model and nine years younger than her -- he's got to have so much temptation looking the way he does -- but Jesse James is the total opposite, and yet he still found a way to break Sandra's heart. So what's a beautiful, successful girl to do?
There are some that seem to make it work. Recently re-crowned People's Most Beautiful Person Julia Roberts makes it work with her husband Danny Moder. But we hear so many stories about the beautiful women who it doesn't work for, that it makes me wonder what it is that keeps them from finding happiness in love.
And then I thought of this theory that might apply. Maybe these women are just too beautiful. They are too beautiful for their own good. And maybe the reason why their significant others were drawn to them was mainly because they are so beautiful. But the thing about beauty is that it fades, not just because of time and aging, but because of familiarity. If you look at a beautiful rose long enough, or even a beautiful scene long enough, it no longer is as pleasing as when you first saw it. In fact, it diminishes in beauty the more time you are around it and see it, even if nothing about it has physically changed. Love, of course, can make you see things as more beautiful, but if you loved something mainly for its beauty, you will find that that love will fade.
I learned this lesson really early on with a boyfriend who I thought at the time was really good-looking. But some time into our relationship, I didn't find him so good-looking anymore. In fact, I thought he started to look funny-looking, and I doubted my eyes. That feeling I had when I first saw him had gone. I had to then constantly ask my friend if he was in fact, good-looking, because I could no longer see it. And of course, that was the beginning of the end of our relationship. I should have realized what really attracted me to him were his looks more than anything, and that couldn't last. But the mind plays tricks with the eyes and the heart, and familiarity and personality alter the way you see a person.
The same thing happened to me with Denzel Washington and Halle Berry. I know they're good-looking people, and when I first saw them I was blown away by their gorgeousness. But now I don't see that anymore. That awe I used to feel when I saw them went away, and I can't get it back.
It almost seems better then not be so pretty. Maybe by being so beautiful, there's nowhere to go but down, in terms of someone's affections for you. And the thing with loving someone for their beauty is that, once you insert their personality, you will see them differently. I don't think anyone -- anyone -- can live up to the fantasy sparked by a beautiful face. What you will inevitably find behind that is a person, an ordinary person, living their life behind extraordinary features.
But trying to be less beautiful to be happier? That would seem like crazy talk, especially in this country, and around the world. However, maybe one doesn't have to go to the extreme of uglying oneself to find happiness. Maybe one can just let oneself be ugly sometimes, just so that people can appreciate the times when one is really beautiful again.
Just look at lovely Sandra Bullock: Beautiful, successful, and with a cheating, soon-to-be ex-husband. I was thinking that perhaps Halle chose too well with her guy being a model and nine years younger than her -- he's got to have so much temptation looking the way he does -- but Jesse James is the total opposite, and yet he still found a way to break Sandra's heart. So what's a beautiful, successful girl to do?
There are some that seem to make it work. Recently re-crowned People's Most Beautiful Person Julia Roberts makes it work with her husband Danny Moder. But we hear so many stories about the beautiful women who it doesn't work for, that it makes me wonder what it is that keeps them from finding happiness in love.
And then I thought of this theory that might apply. Maybe these women are just too beautiful. They are too beautiful for their own good. And maybe the reason why their significant others were drawn to them was mainly because they are so beautiful. But the thing about beauty is that it fades, not just because of time and aging, but because of familiarity. If you look at a beautiful rose long enough, or even a beautiful scene long enough, it no longer is as pleasing as when you first saw it. In fact, it diminishes in beauty the more time you are around it and see it, even if nothing about it has physically changed. Love, of course, can make you see things as more beautiful, but if you loved something mainly for its beauty, you will find that that love will fade.
I learned this lesson really early on with a boyfriend who I thought at the time was really good-looking. But some time into our relationship, I didn't find him so good-looking anymore. In fact, I thought he started to look funny-looking, and I doubted my eyes. That feeling I had when I first saw him had gone. I had to then constantly ask my friend if he was in fact, good-looking, because I could no longer see it. And of course, that was the beginning of the end of our relationship. I should have realized what really attracted me to him were his looks more than anything, and that couldn't last. But the mind plays tricks with the eyes and the heart, and familiarity and personality alter the way you see a person.
The same thing happened to me with Denzel Washington and Halle Berry. I know they're good-looking people, and when I first saw them I was blown away by their gorgeousness. But now I don't see that anymore. That awe I used to feel when I saw them went away, and I can't get it back.
It almost seems better then not be so pretty. Maybe by being so beautiful, there's nowhere to go but down, in terms of someone's affections for you. And the thing with loving someone for their beauty is that, once you insert their personality, you will see them differently. I don't think anyone -- anyone -- can live up to the fantasy sparked by a beautiful face. What you will inevitably find behind that is a person, an ordinary person, living their life behind extraordinary features.
But trying to be less beautiful to be happier? That would seem like crazy talk, especially in this country, and around the world. However, maybe one doesn't have to go to the extreme of uglying oneself to find happiness. Maybe one can just let oneself be ugly sometimes, just so that people can appreciate the times when one is really beautiful again.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
While You Were Washing Dishes...
Moisturize them too.
It dawned on me recently that washing dishes might not be so good for my hands. I know, I know, I remember those Palmolive commercials from years ago, but I didn't really consider washing dishes made a difference until I looked at my hands and thought, "I want them to be smoother." "Dishwashing hands" I did not want, but rather, smooth, soft-looking, beautiful hands. And so, I decided to purchase a pair of rubber household gloves to protect my hands while washing dishes.
Luckily I was able to find a size that fit me just right, not like those big over-size gloves that are uncomfortable to use. The first time I tried the gloves on, I realized they were snug to put on, but fit just right when fully on. And as I had them on it hit me, why not put some lotion on my hands before I put on the gloves? That way, the gloves would go on easier and I'd be moisturizing my hands while I washed the dishes.
I tried out this crazy idea and it worked. In fact, it worked better than I even imagined because my hands came out really soft. I can only surmise that the warmth of the water I was washing the dishes in caused the lotion to absorb even better into my skin, therefore increasing its effectiveness. Who would have thought?
Like my minute workout (in my post, "What a Minute Can Do"), I had found a way to apply my time at some arduous task (in that case, waiting) to some rewarding task (in that case, learning to bellydance). And so whereas before I was drying out my hands washing dishes, now I was moisturizing them: a complete 180. And so it goes, as in my other experience, I can enjoy the task much more because I know that I'm doing myself good. And I'm getting two things done at the same time: Washing the dishes and moisturizing my hands.
So it is in life that you can find ways to enhance it while you are busy doing something else.
It dawned on me recently that washing dishes might not be so good for my hands. I know, I know, I remember those Palmolive commercials from years ago, but I didn't really consider washing dishes made a difference until I looked at my hands and thought, "I want them to be smoother." "Dishwashing hands" I did not want, but rather, smooth, soft-looking, beautiful hands. And so, I decided to purchase a pair of rubber household gloves to protect my hands while washing dishes.
Luckily I was able to find a size that fit me just right, not like those big over-size gloves that are uncomfortable to use. The first time I tried the gloves on, I realized they were snug to put on, but fit just right when fully on. And as I had them on it hit me, why not put some lotion on my hands before I put on the gloves? That way, the gloves would go on easier and I'd be moisturizing my hands while I washed the dishes.
I tried out this crazy idea and it worked. In fact, it worked better than I even imagined because my hands came out really soft. I can only surmise that the warmth of the water I was washing the dishes in caused the lotion to absorb even better into my skin, therefore increasing its effectiveness. Who would have thought?
Like my minute workout (in my post, "What a Minute Can Do"), I had found a way to apply my time at some arduous task (in that case, waiting) to some rewarding task (in that case, learning to bellydance). And so whereas before I was drying out my hands washing dishes, now I was moisturizing them: a complete 180. And so it goes, as in my other experience, I can enjoy the task much more because I know that I'm doing myself good. And I'm getting two things done at the same time: Washing the dishes and moisturizing my hands.
So it is in life that you can find ways to enhance it while you are busy doing something else.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Imperfections Make Us Beautiful
Today I was looking at my girl kitty's paws, and thinking how very very adorable they are.
They're even more adorable because I used to think they were ugly. Yes, I thought a kitty's paws were ugly. But that's only because I had another kitty's paws to compare them to. My boy kitty has cute little soft pink pads on his white paws that are very very cute and perfect. I had him first and so thought that all paws should look like his. Therefore, when I saw my girl kitty's white paws had pads that were not perfectly uniform in color but a mixture of a darker pink with black spots, I thought them very ugly. And could not look at them without disgust at first.
It's funny how our standards change the way we see things.
But as I grew to love my girl kitty, I also grew to love her paws; and to realize that they were not as ugly as I had thought them. In fact, they were not ugly at all, but the cutest little paws in the world. They looked like multicolored jelly bellies in fact. Beautiful little jelly bellies. And the variation of color made them more beautiful than even my boy kitty's paws, which had been my standard. I then told this story to my friend, who when I saw her next, exclaimed how cute my girl kitty's paws were.
It is all about perception.
My other friend who recently got a puppy noticed that the puppy had an under bite. It makes him look like he has two large fangs sticking up from the bottom of his mouth, even when he closes his mouth. She told me this before I met him, and that her sisters made fun of him; but when I saw him, I thought this little feature made this cute puppy even cuter. It was his signature, and it made him unique. The same thing goes with my kitty's pink and black paws.
The funny thing about society is that we keep espousing the idea that perfection is beautiful. That is why all these people keep getting plastic surgery in hopes of looking like some cookie cutter version (Barbie doll) of what society thinks is beautiful. The thing is, in reality, society doesn't know what is beautiful, or I should say, what can be beautiful. We base our standard on what we already know and what other people tell us, but nature, nature surprises us. And we soon find that the thing we thought was too strange and odd to be beautiful, is actually, in its very nature, beautiful, because it is so different and rare, and something we would not have thought of ourselves.
Whenever I see something I deem to be too perfect, it scares me, be it a piece of fruit at the market or a person. Everything has its flaws -- that is actually what makes it beautiful. Perfection is not in itself beautiful. Though we can strive for it and try to attain it, it is not something that can ever be reached; and good thing too, because it is not where true beauty lies. True beauty is 99%, or less, perfect. But there is that 1% of imperfection, at least, that makes it whole and beautiful.
It's funny how this society keeps trying to look like the same cookie cutter version of an ideal that doesn't exist, when in fact, our own personal eccentricities are what make us beautiful. No mountain top is just like every other mountain. No snowflake is like any other. No sea shell is like any other. Man makes things that look alike. He craves conformity, uniformity. But nature, very rarely. Nature likes diversity in beauty. That's because it is ever evolving, and improving. And the thing is, man's idea of beauty is ever changing too, based on another man's view, and another man's. And in reality, society's view of nature is not a general consensus, but the will of the strongest person's opinion holding rank over everyone else's view.
In my view, nature gives some sort of beauty to everyone and everything. But it is our job to find that beauty in ourselves, and not to diminish it by making ourselves generic copies of each other. There is no perfect beauty (that might even be an oxymoron), but there is an individual's true beauty. And that, you will come to find, is even more appreciated in the world.
They're even more adorable because I used to think they were ugly. Yes, I thought a kitty's paws were ugly. But that's only because I had another kitty's paws to compare them to. My boy kitty has cute little soft pink pads on his white paws that are very very cute and perfect. I had him first and so thought that all paws should look like his. Therefore, when I saw my girl kitty's white paws had pads that were not perfectly uniform in color but a mixture of a darker pink with black spots, I thought them very ugly. And could not look at them without disgust at first.
It's funny how our standards change the way we see things.
But as I grew to love my girl kitty, I also grew to love her paws; and to realize that they were not as ugly as I had thought them. In fact, they were not ugly at all, but the cutest little paws in the world. They looked like multicolored jelly bellies in fact. Beautiful little jelly bellies. And the variation of color made them more beautiful than even my boy kitty's paws, which had been my standard. I then told this story to my friend, who when I saw her next, exclaimed how cute my girl kitty's paws were.
It is all about perception.
My other friend who recently got a puppy noticed that the puppy had an under bite. It makes him look like he has two large fangs sticking up from the bottom of his mouth, even when he closes his mouth. She told me this before I met him, and that her sisters made fun of him; but when I saw him, I thought this little feature made this cute puppy even cuter. It was his signature, and it made him unique. The same thing goes with my kitty's pink and black paws.
The funny thing about society is that we keep espousing the idea that perfection is beautiful. That is why all these people keep getting plastic surgery in hopes of looking like some cookie cutter version (Barbie doll) of what society thinks is beautiful. The thing is, in reality, society doesn't know what is beautiful, or I should say, what can be beautiful. We base our standard on what we already know and what other people tell us, but nature, nature surprises us. And we soon find that the thing we thought was too strange and odd to be beautiful, is actually, in its very nature, beautiful, because it is so different and rare, and something we would not have thought of ourselves.
Whenever I see something I deem to be too perfect, it scares me, be it a piece of fruit at the market or a person. Everything has its flaws -- that is actually what makes it beautiful. Perfection is not in itself beautiful. Though we can strive for it and try to attain it, it is not something that can ever be reached; and good thing too, because it is not where true beauty lies. True beauty is 99%, or less, perfect. But there is that 1% of imperfection, at least, that makes it whole and beautiful.
It's funny how this society keeps trying to look like the same cookie cutter version of an ideal that doesn't exist, when in fact, our own personal eccentricities are what make us beautiful. No mountain top is just like every other mountain. No snowflake is like any other. No sea shell is like any other. Man makes things that look alike. He craves conformity, uniformity. But nature, very rarely. Nature likes diversity in beauty. That's because it is ever evolving, and improving. And the thing is, man's idea of beauty is ever changing too, based on another man's view, and another man's. And in reality, society's view of nature is not a general consensus, but the will of the strongest person's opinion holding rank over everyone else's view.
In my view, nature gives some sort of beauty to everyone and everything. But it is our job to find that beauty in ourselves, and not to diminish it by making ourselves generic copies of each other. There is no perfect beauty (that might even be an oxymoron), but there is an individual's true beauty. And that, you will come to find, is even more appreciated in the world.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Jealous vs Snobbery: The True Battle Between the Parties
In my view, this is the tale (albeit extremely simplified) of the war between Republicans and Democrats.
Republicans are jealous of Democrats, because Democrats make them feel bad about themselves. They make them feel like they're not as smart, not as educated, not as worldly. That's why they're quick to name Democrats "elitist" and other such names, as if Democrats think they're so much better. Now Democrats might not really feel this way, but no matter. Republicans think they do, and that's what matters.
Because, in reality, it is not the hatred that another feels for us that makes us hate them, it is the hatred that we feel toward ourselves that makes us hate them. And if we feel in some way inferior to someone, we use other people as scapegoats for that feeling and as our own personal punching bags. Even if that person doesn't do anything directly to harm us than just live their life and be themself, we'll hate them because their life, their accomplishments and personal assets make us feel bad about ourselves. And that's enough. Even if that someone might be trying to do us some good, to help us be better, if we see that that messenger comes in a package where they seem perfectly ideal, better than us -- like Obama, perhaps, -- no matter what they want to do for us, we will say, "No thanks!" We will actually hate them for trying to help us, like they think they're so much better than us, that they think they know what's better for us. Our ego would rather allow us to die than to feel badly about ourselves.
Democrats, on the other hand, are snobs. They think that Republicans are dumb to believe what they do. This is because Democrats don't understand Republicans, and so they dismiss their ideas as coming from a place of irrationality and emotion, rather than reason and intelligence. Now, this might not be true, but it doesn't matter, because Democrats believe this. And then they wonder why it is that Republicans hate them so much.
Democrats don't realize that this feeling of elitism, of thinking they know better, and are better, is felt by the other side. They think only that they feel this and that the other side doesn't know this, and when they are called elitists, they wonder why. But the truth is, they do feel that they are better. They just don't realize that the other side sees that they feel this, or they don't understand why the other side cares that they feel this. After all, who cares what they think? Certainly not the other side, right? But the other side is quick to feel inferior, and so quick to hate anyone who helps them in feeling that way, intentional or not.
And so this, really, is the battle between the parties: a battle between egos (which is basically like all other battles in all the world). It's just that in this one, one side cares too much about what the other side thinks of them, and the other side cares too little about what the other side thinks.
Republicans are jealous of Democrats, because Democrats make them feel bad about themselves. They make them feel like they're not as smart, not as educated, not as worldly. That's why they're quick to name Democrats "elitist" and other such names, as if Democrats think they're so much better. Now Democrats might not really feel this way, but no matter. Republicans think they do, and that's what matters.
Because, in reality, it is not the hatred that another feels for us that makes us hate them, it is the hatred that we feel toward ourselves that makes us hate them. And if we feel in some way inferior to someone, we use other people as scapegoats for that feeling and as our own personal punching bags. Even if that person doesn't do anything directly to harm us than just live their life and be themself, we'll hate them because their life, their accomplishments and personal assets make us feel bad about ourselves. And that's enough. Even if that someone might be trying to do us some good, to help us be better, if we see that that messenger comes in a package where they seem perfectly ideal, better than us -- like Obama, perhaps, -- no matter what they want to do for us, we will say, "No thanks!" We will actually hate them for trying to help us, like they think they're so much better than us, that they think they know what's better for us. Our ego would rather allow us to die than to feel badly about ourselves.
Democrats, on the other hand, are snobs. They think that Republicans are dumb to believe what they do. This is because Democrats don't understand Republicans, and so they dismiss their ideas as coming from a place of irrationality and emotion, rather than reason and intelligence. Now, this might not be true, but it doesn't matter, because Democrats believe this. And then they wonder why it is that Republicans hate them so much.
Democrats don't realize that this feeling of elitism, of thinking they know better, and are better, is felt by the other side. They think only that they feel this and that the other side doesn't know this, and when they are called elitists, they wonder why. But the truth is, they do feel that they are better. They just don't realize that the other side sees that they feel this, or they don't understand why the other side cares that they feel this. After all, who cares what they think? Certainly not the other side, right? But the other side is quick to feel inferior, and so quick to hate anyone who helps them in feeling that way, intentional or not.
And so this, really, is the battle between the parties: a battle between egos (which is basically like all other battles in all the world). It's just that in this one, one side cares too much about what the other side thinks of them, and the other side cares too little about what the other side thinks.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
I Love My Cast Iron Pan!
I bought my first cast iron cookware, a cast iron skillet from Lodge Logic, and have only used it twice, but already I am in love with it.
It takes a bit more getting used to because it's really heavy (you could really hurt someone with this), and you clean it and prepare it differently than other pans. You have to "season" it after each use by spraying (or in my case, spreading) a thin layer of oil onto the clean warm pan, and letting it set. This seems to work, as when I cook, the pan doesn't stick at all. You do have to use oil when you cook too but that's like with any cookware. And the pan comes pre-seasoned so you can use it right away.
It works just as well as a non-stick pan but you can scratch the surface and not worry that it'll ruin the coating. If some of the material leeches into your food, it's actually good for you because it's made of iron. It just puts a little more iron into your diet.
I got this because the non-stick coating on my pan had started to scratch off a lot and I was getting antsy about the coating getting into my food and also because cooking became a pain once the coating stopped working. (I didn't realize that you're not supposed to use non-stick under high temperatures). Cleaning it was a pain too because I couldn't scrub -- even though food started sticking to it -- for fear that the coating would come off even more. But that is not something you have to worry about with the cast iron pan. They actually recommend that you scrub it with a good, stiff brush.
With cast iron, there might be a little extra step to prepare it, but the reward you reap is worth it. The ease of cooking with and cleaning it makes up for that step a hundred times over. And when I use it, the food seems to cook more evenly, and taste more delicious. It's weird, but for the first time in my life, I am in love with cookware.
It takes a bit more getting used to because it's really heavy (you could really hurt someone with this), and you clean it and prepare it differently than other pans. You have to "season" it after each use by spraying (or in my case, spreading) a thin layer of oil onto the clean warm pan, and letting it set. This seems to work, as when I cook, the pan doesn't stick at all. You do have to use oil when you cook too but that's like with any cookware. And the pan comes pre-seasoned so you can use it right away.
It works just as well as a non-stick pan but you can scratch the surface and not worry that it'll ruin the coating. If some of the material leeches into your food, it's actually good for you because it's made of iron. It just puts a little more iron into your diet.
I got this because the non-stick coating on my pan had started to scratch off a lot and I was getting antsy about the coating getting into my food and also because cooking became a pain once the coating stopped working. (I didn't realize that you're not supposed to use non-stick under high temperatures). Cleaning it was a pain too because I couldn't scrub -- even though food started sticking to it -- for fear that the coating would come off even more. But that is not something you have to worry about with the cast iron pan. They actually recommend that you scrub it with a good, stiff brush.
With cast iron, there might be a little extra step to prepare it, but the reward you reap is worth it. The ease of cooking with and cleaning it makes up for that step a hundred times over. And when I use it, the food seems to cook more evenly, and taste more delicious. It's weird, but for the first time in my life, I am in love with cookware.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Being the Tortoise: Enjoying the Race
I wrote a blog a few months back about how I was working on a project, and working on it slowly, a few pieces at a time until I was done. Well, I finished that project last month. So my slow and steady approach worked.
I didn't get it done when I thought I would, which left me feeling somewhat stressed during the closing hours before the deadline; but I did get it done in time. However, when I was done, I no longer cared. People really liked it and I was pleased with its reception. But it's been a month now, and I no longer care about it; not like I cared about it before. *Sigh. That is what happens with projects. You can't wait to finish them, but once you do, all the fun is gone.
It's like what Mary Kay Ash (founder of Mary Kay cosmetics) said in her autobiography, you're happiest when you're closest to reaching your goal. Not after. Once you've reached it, you've moved on.
It's a strange thing, that. And after all the projects I've done, it still surprises me. When you're working on something, you fantasize how happy you'll be when you're done. But once you're done, there's very little joy. There's satisfaction, but the huge, overwhelming joy you expected doesn't come. You put the finished project aside mentally -- and perhaps physically -- and your mind already starts turning to the other things you have to do. This happens all the time. Because, as one person wisely said, "Your inbox is never empty." You will always have something to do. If you live your life thinking you'll only be happy when you finish everything, you'll never be happy.
Thus, going back to the tortoise and the hare analogy, perhaps slow and steady not only wins the race, slow and steady gets to enjoy the race as well. Looking back, I have some fond memories of working on that project. If we were all like the hare and we raced through life, then we might get a lot of things done, but when would we ever get a chance to enjoy any of it? Only if we ever gave ourselves a chance to look back and wish we had enjoyed things more. But that wouldn't be enjoyment then. It would be regret.
I wonder then, if maybe the reason that it is taking me so long to finish another project is because I care too much about it. I really want to finish it, but at the same time, I don't. Because I know what'll happen when I finish. I won't care. And maybe I still want to care; maybe I enjoy caring about it. But I guess what I have to realize is that there'll be other projects to care about after this one, and other projects after that.
So, if you know you're going to finish the race eventually, you might as well enjoy the journey there. Like the tortoise perhaps.
I didn't get it done when I thought I would, which left me feeling somewhat stressed during the closing hours before the deadline; but I did get it done in time. However, when I was done, I no longer cared. People really liked it and I was pleased with its reception. But it's been a month now, and I no longer care about it; not like I cared about it before. *Sigh. That is what happens with projects. You can't wait to finish them, but once you do, all the fun is gone.
It's like what Mary Kay Ash (founder of Mary Kay cosmetics) said in her autobiography, you're happiest when you're closest to reaching your goal. Not after. Once you've reached it, you've moved on.
It's a strange thing, that. And after all the projects I've done, it still surprises me. When you're working on something, you fantasize how happy you'll be when you're done. But once you're done, there's very little joy. There's satisfaction, but the huge, overwhelming joy you expected doesn't come. You put the finished project aside mentally -- and perhaps physically -- and your mind already starts turning to the other things you have to do. This happens all the time. Because, as one person wisely said, "Your inbox is never empty." You will always have something to do. If you live your life thinking you'll only be happy when you finish everything, you'll never be happy.
Thus, going back to the tortoise and the hare analogy, perhaps slow and steady not only wins the race, slow and steady gets to enjoy the race as well. Looking back, I have some fond memories of working on that project. If we were all like the hare and we raced through life, then we might get a lot of things done, but when would we ever get a chance to enjoy any of it? Only if we ever gave ourselves a chance to look back and wish we had enjoyed things more. But that wouldn't be enjoyment then. It would be regret.
I wonder then, if maybe the reason that it is taking me so long to finish another project is because I care too much about it. I really want to finish it, but at the same time, I don't. Because I know what'll happen when I finish. I won't care. And maybe I still want to care; maybe I enjoy caring about it. But I guess what I have to realize is that there'll be other projects to care about after this one, and other projects after that.
So, if you know you're going to finish the race eventually, you might as well enjoy the journey there. Like the tortoise perhaps.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Simple Pimple Treatment - Toothpaste
Put toothpaste on your zits.
I've heard of this simple treatment for pimples time and time again, but it was not until recently that it really proved to be an effective solution.
I've actually tried the toothpaste remedy before but as it didn't seem to me to do much in terms of shrinking the pimple, I gave up on it; that is, until I was really desperate. I hadn't had a pimple in quite some time (which gave me quite a feeling of satisfaction that I was keeping my face quite clean), when lo and behold, a pimple started forming on my chin; and it wouldn't go away early like all my other ones had of recent date. I haven't had a pimple on my chin for almost a year, I think, so this was also a shocker. I could not have imagined what brought it on.
But whatever it was, the pimple would not go away. And I had already tried my whole arsenal of acne treatments: salicylic acid, zeno acne clearing device, clay mask. But none would work completely. I was out of tricks and wished I still had some ProActiv Refining Clay Mask left from years ago. That stuff always seemed to suck the life out of pimples. But alas, I did not. And I wasn't about to go spending money for a big tube of that stuff.
But while I was in the bathroom, it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't tried toothpaste. I didn't think it would do much good but I thought I might as well try it since nothing else was making a big impact on the pimple. And do you know what? It worked. I was happily surprised.
My pimple had just been starting to form. It was in that stage where it hurts and where you can see and feel this hard white mass developing under your skin. After I applied the toothpaste, and left it on for a few hours, I noticed that a tiny white bubble had formed. I realized that the toothpaste must have broken through to the pimple and caused some pus to come out. After I washed off the toothpaste, I realized that the pimple hadn't diminished much in size but that the white pus under the skin had seemed to retreat into balls under their respective pores. Something that happens further along in the pimple's life span. I therefore concluded that the toothpaste had helped it along. Happily then, I applied some more toothpaste and let it set overnight.
When I woke up the next morning and washed my face, I noticed that again there was a white bubble and also that the pimple had now hardened. It still hurt some so I could not clear it out with my handy skin care tool. But that was just as well. I happily applied more toothpaste again so that it would keep drying out the pimple. And voila, it kept hardening and stopped hurting. All I needed to do was wait for it to completely dry out and finish its evolution, and then I could either clear it out, or it would fall off of its own accord.
And so I learned, toothpaste really does help treat acne. It dries the pimple out so that it doesn't get bigger, and speeds up the healing process. I don't know why it didn't work before except that maybe I used it too late then. I used to wait until the pimple had already come to a head. This time I couldn't wait and did it before the pimple rose. That seemed to help. Of course, it could just depend on the pimple. And maybe my other acne arsenal weakened it to the point that it responded to the toothpaste treatment. In any case, I'd try it again. It clearly worked this time.
I've heard of this simple treatment for pimples time and time again, but it was not until recently that it really proved to be an effective solution.
I've actually tried the toothpaste remedy before but as it didn't seem to me to do much in terms of shrinking the pimple, I gave up on it; that is, until I was really desperate. I hadn't had a pimple in quite some time (which gave me quite a feeling of satisfaction that I was keeping my face quite clean), when lo and behold, a pimple started forming on my chin; and it wouldn't go away early like all my other ones had of recent date. I haven't had a pimple on my chin for almost a year, I think, so this was also a shocker. I could not have imagined what brought it on.
But whatever it was, the pimple would not go away. And I had already tried my whole arsenal of acne treatments: salicylic acid, zeno acne clearing device, clay mask. But none would work completely. I was out of tricks and wished I still had some ProActiv Refining Clay Mask left from years ago. That stuff always seemed to suck the life out of pimples. But alas, I did not. And I wasn't about to go spending money for a big tube of that stuff.
But while I was in the bathroom, it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't tried toothpaste. I didn't think it would do much good but I thought I might as well try it since nothing else was making a big impact on the pimple. And do you know what? It worked. I was happily surprised.
My pimple had just been starting to form. It was in that stage where it hurts and where you can see and feel this hard white mass developing under your skin. After I applied the toothpaste, and left it on for a few hours, I noticed that a tiny white bubble had formed. I realized that the toothpaste must have broken through to the pimple and caused some pus to come out. After I washed off the toothpaste, I realized that the pimple hadn't diminished much in size but that the white pus under the skin had seemed to retreat into balls under their respective pores. Something that happens further along in the pimple's life span. I therefore concluded that the toothpaste had helped it along. Happily then, I applied some more toothpaste and let it set overnight.
When I woke up the next morning and washed my face, I noticed that again there was a white bubble and also that the pimple had now hardened. It still hurt some so I could not clear it out with my handy skin care tool. But that was just as well. I happily applied more toothpaste again so that it would keep drying out the pimple. And voila, it kept hardening and stopped hurting. All I needed to do was wait for it to completely dry out and finish its evolution, and then I could either clear it out, or it would fall off of its own accord.
And so I learned, toothpaste really does help treat acne. It dries the pimple out so that it doesn't get bigger, and speeds up the healing process. I don't know why it didn't work before except that maybe I used it too late then. I used to wait until the pimple had already come to a head. This time I couldn't wait and did it before the pimple rose. That seemed to help. Of course, it could just depend on the pimple. And maybe my other acne arsenal weakened it to the point that it responded to the toothpaste treatment. In any case, I'd try it again. It clearly worked this time.
Sometimes We Give Up Too Soon
I got a pretty good lesson recently about giving up.
I just bought a set of Pyrex glass containers. It came with an extra bonus lid with air holes and a removable tab you can snap on and off the air holes to let air into the container. I suppose they invented this lid to make microwaving easier. In any case, the lid is pretty well-made, so I liked it.
Before I would use my new containers, I washed them thoroughly in an even bigger container in my kitchen sink. I was almost done when I realized that the tab, which is small and which I had removed from the lid, was not to be seen or felt on the bottom of the big red container. I immediately figured that the tab had gone down into the garbage disposal, and disappointed, I poured the rest of the water out of the container. As soon as I poured the water though, I saw the tab go floating down toward the drain. I instantly let go of the container and put my hands over the drain blindly, as the container was now blocking my view, in hopes of catching the tab. But I could feel the water quickly rushing down. No tab did I feel. And when I pulled up the red container, the sink was empty.
As I was covering the hole, and felt no tab go through, I suddenly thought, "Why did this happen to me?" I know it's silly, but I had just got this set, and without even having the chance to use it, I had just lost a piece. And it was a new lid they were testing out, and now I wouldn't be able to use it as it it was meant to be used.
But as soon as I had this thought, I realized that it was my fault. I had assumed that the tab was gone before it was. I didn't see it in the red container so I assumed it was down the drain. I didn't realize that it could have been in the sink, outside the container (which is where I assume it was) on the side hidden to me. And when I gave up and let go all the water into the sink, that's when the tab actually sank down into the drain. It happened after I gave up; not before. I gave up too soon and that is why I lost the tab.
Now the tab was not a really big thing (both literally and figuratively) and I did manage to get over losing it. Of course, it wasn't losing it that hurt, it was the idea that I wouldn't be able to enjoy the lid at all as it was meant to be enjoyed. And it was the idea that I could have saved the tab, if I hadn't given up. Or maybe if I hadn't been fearful, and had fear cloud my judgement, I would have tried another solution like slamming the big container over the drain. Or maybe I just didn't have the time to think then; only to react.
But like I said, losing the tab was a small thing. It just taught me a big lesson: Sometimes we give up too soon. It's too early to give up unless you actually see the tab swirling into the drain. Until then, assume you still have a chance to find it hidden somewhere.
I just bought a set of Pyrex glass containers. It came with an extra bonus lid with air holes and a removable tab you can snap on and off the air holes to let air into the container. I suppose they invented this lid to make microwaving easier. In any case, the lid is pretty well-made, so I liked it.
Before I would use my new containers, I washed them thoroughly in an even bigger container in my kitchen sink. I was almost done when I realized that the tab, which is small and which I had removed from the lid, was not to be seen or felt on the bottom of the big red container. I immediately figured that the tab had gone down into the garbage disposal, and disappointed, I poured the rest of the water out of the container. As soon as I poured the water though, I saw the tab go floating down toward the drain. I instantly let go of the container and put my hands over the drain blindly, as the container was now blocking my view, in hopes of catching the tab. But I could feel the water quickly rushing down. No tab did I feel. And when I pulled up the red container, the sink was empty.
As I was covering the hole, and felt no tab go through, I suddenly thought, "Why did this happen to me?" I know it's silly, but I had just got this set, and without even having the chance to use it, I had just lost a piece. And it was a new lid they were testing out, and now I wouldn't be able to use it as it it was meant to be used.
But as soon as I had this thought, I realized that it was my fault. I had assumed that the tab was gone before it was. I didn't see it in the red container so I assumed it was down the drain. I didn't realize that it could have been in the sink, outside the container (which is where I assume it was) on the side hidden to me. And when I gave up and let go all the water into the sink, that's when the tab actually sank down into the drain. It happened after I gave up; not before. I gave up too soon and that is why I lost the tab.
Now the tab was not a really big thing (both literally and figuratively) and I did manage to get over losing it. Of course, it wasn't losing it that hurt, it was the idea that I wouldn't be able to enjoy the lid at all as it was meant to be enjoyed. And it was the idea that I could have saved the tab, if I hadn't given up. Or maybe if I hadn't been fearful, and had fear cloud my judgement, I would have tried another solution like slamming the big container over the drain. Or maybe I just didn't have the time to think then; only to react.
But like I said, losing the tab was a small thing. It just taught me a big lesson: Sometimes we give up too soon. It's too early to give up unless you actually see the tab swirling into the drain. Until then, assume you still have a chance to find it hidden somewhere.
Friday, April 16, 2010
What a Minute Can Do
I have been trying to learn bellydancing for a long time. I took a class a few years ago, but the instructor was so terrible I didn't learn anything. At the library, years later, I found a book on bellydancing and copied all the instructions into a Powerpoint Presentation (yes, I am a big nerd), only to lose that file. Finally, I searched on Amazon and found a wonderful bellydance DVD (if you're interested, it's called, "Luscious -- The Bellydance Workout for Beginners").
This DVD breaks down each move for you and explains how to do it slowly and accurately. Still, even with this great tutorial and the ability to learn at my own pace, I found many of the moves really really hard. I went through the whole tutorial just to get an idea, and then I made it my goal to be an expert in one area of the moves each month, i.e. one month was "Circles".
I thought this strategy would work, but it didn't. I ended up barely looking at the DVD for about a year. But I didn't give up yet. I then made it my goal to workout every day. However, that also did not work out. And then recently, one day, while my computer was loading (and it takes a while because I have Vista), I turned on the DVD and did one exercise. It was really very quick, less than a minute it felt like; and after I was done with it, my computer had loaded. I began to do this each day, practicing just the moves that I couldn't get before, a different one each day. After many days, as you might guess, I had gone through the whole DVD again. And so I restarted it again. And amazingly enough, this time the steps that I had found the hardest to do became doable. I actually even was able to follow the dancer with ease when she did a combination routine, a thing I had found impossible and confusing to do before.
Now of course, if you practice something long enough you get better at it. But the thing is, I barely practiced it. A minute or so is all I gave it, and yet I have improved to the point where I can follow some of the dancing. That's amazing if you think about it: Just a minute a day and you can get better at something. And that minute you can waste on watching TV or surfing the net or doing nothing, but if you actually applied yourself, you could learn how to do something in just that one minute.
It is really true what I learned from Jack Canfield ("The Success Principles"), that work builds upon itself and becomes better the longer you do it. After all, that minute a day becomes 30 minutes a month. You could do just 30 minutes a month, but I don't think I would learned as much doing one session of 30 minutes as I did doing 30 sessions of 1 minute. I think, like a bank, your brain puts in interest after you put in something. So even though time-wise you spend 30 minutes a month doing something, in reality, with all the interest your brain puts in it, you might actually get 300 minutes of results for that 30 minutes. That's a pretty good investment.
The other reason I wanted to blog about this is because the reason I started working out -- if just for a minute -- on a daily basis was because it kept me from waiting for my computer to load. Before, I would just be sitting there bored, letting the time pass me by as my computer slowly came to life. Now I actually make use of that waiting time, and I don't wait at all, because when I'm done, my computer is loaded. Now just think about it: Before, that time would have been completely wasted. But now, in the time that it takes my computer to load, I have learned something great and become healthier in the process.
I'm hoping that if this can work for me, it can also work for others. But not only that, I am hoping that we can start a revolution. That instead of just waiting for things to happen, we use that minute to do something; i.e. instead of just waiting in line bored out of our mind at the bank, we can workout while we stand there waiting. We can stretch or run in place. I know, people might look at us funny because it's not the usual thing to be doing in line at a bank, or anywhere, but if enough people started to do it, we could start a revolution of healthier, fitter people. All that wasted time would have been put to use to make us better, smarter, stronger.
And then we would realize, we do have enough time to do things. We just need to see that it doesn't take that much effort to make a difference. As long as we keep building on it, we'll get better.
This DVD breaks down each move for you and explains how to do it slowly and accurately. Still, even with this great tutorial and the ability to learn at my own pace, I found many of the moves really really hard. I went through the whole tutorial just to get an idea, and then I made it my goal to be an expert in one area of the moves each month, i.e. one month was "Circles".
I thought this strategy would work, but it didn't. I ended up barely looking at the DVD for about a year. But I didn't give up yet. I then made it my goal to workout every day. However, that also did not work out. And then recently, one day, while my computer was loading (and it takes a while because I have Vista), I turned on the DVD and did one exercise. It was really very quick, less than a minute it felt like; and after I was done with it, my computer had loaded. I began to do this each day, practicing just the moves that I couldn't get before, a different one each day. After many days, as you might guess, I had gone through the whole DVD again. And so I restarted it again. And amazingly enough, this time the steps that I had found the hardest to do became doable. I actually even was able to follow the dancer with ease when she did a combination routine, a thing I had found impossible and confusing to do before.
Now of course, if you practice something long enough you get better at it. But the thing is, I barely practiced it. A minute or so is all I gave it, and yet I have improved to the point where I can follow some of the dancing. That's amazing if you think about it: Just a minute a day and you can get better at something. And that minute you can waste on watching TV or surfing the net or doing nothing, but if you actually applied yourself, you could learn how to do something in just that one minute.
It is really true what I learned from Jack Canfield ("The Success Principles"), that work builds upon itself and becomes better the longer you do it. After all, that minute a day becomes 30 minutes a month. You could do just 30 minutes a month, but I don't think I would learned as much doing one session of 30 minutes as I did doing 30 sessions of 1 minute. I think, like a bank, your brain puts in interest after you put in something. So even though time-wise you spend 30 minutes a month doing something, in reality, with all the interest your brain puts in it, you might actually get 300 minutes of results for that 30 minutes. That's a pretty good investment.
The other reason I wanted to blog about this is because the reason I started working out -- if just for a minute -- on a daily basis was because it kept me from waiting for my computer to load. Before, I would just be sitting there bored, letting the time pass me by as my computer slowly came to life. Now I actually make use of that waiting time, and I don't wait at all, because when I'm done, my computer is loaded. Now just think about it: Before, that time would have been completely wasted. But now, in the time that it takes my computer to load, I have learned something great and become healthier in the process.
I'm hoping that if this can work for me, it can also work for others. But not only that, I am hoping that we can start a revolution. That instead of just waiting for things to happen, we use that minute to do something; i.e. instead of just waiting in line bored out of our mind at the bank, we can workout while we stand there waiting. We can stretch or run in place. I know, people might look at us funny because it's not the usual thing to be doing in line at a bank, or anywhere, but if enough people started to do it, we could start a revolution of healthier, fitter people. All that wasted time would have been put to use to make us better, smarter, stronger.
And then we would realize, we do have enough time to do things. We just need to see that it doesn't take that much effort to make a difference. As long as we keep building on it, we'll get better.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Becoming Pretty Takes Good Genes
It occurred to me this morning as I was doing my morning routine that perhaps being pretty takes good genes.
Well, duh, you say. But let me explain myself further:
Some people are born beautiful. And some people get some help via plastic surgery, makeup, clothes, etc.
But in this society, even though we worship plastic beauty (let's call it) and put those people on a pedestal, we also, at the same time, look down on anyone who had work done; if we should learn about it.
Now, evolutionarily speaking -- or as anthropologists would have you believe -- beauty is an expression of good genes. Therefore, the more beautiful a person is, the more wonderful their genes. That's the theory.
But what happens if the person is not naturally beautiful, but they get some help from a doctor's scalpel or some other modern contrivance? Does that mean their genes are less wonderful?
Before, I would have argued yes, because that beauty they created is not an expression of nature. But today I thought of an argument to play my own devil's advocate. And this is the argument:
If a person can make themselves beautiful through whatever devices available to them, does this not mean that they are smart enough to find the right doctors or products or what have you to make themselves beautiful? And if they are smart enough to do that, to make themselves look good, does not that mean that their genes are in someway better? At least better than those who don't know how to make themselves look good?
Do you see what I 'm saying here? They may not have what you would call the "beautiful gene", but they might have what you would call, what I would call, the "smart gene", which some may argue, is an even better gene to have. Because, being smart can get you more things. It can even get you beauty. Beauty can't get you smarts, but smarts can get you beauty. And after all, these people who can make themselves look good, in so doing can attract a mate with good "beautiful genes" if they so desire, and therefore propagate even better genes down the line.
Now, I am not saying that people who overdo plastic surgery or any other cosmetic procedure have this smart gene. Because they do not look beautiful. And in order to possess this smart gene, one must be able to actually make oneself look good. Making oneself look bad or worse does not qualify. A person who can make themselves look good also has to know when to stop, when too much would be overkill and would make them look bad. This ability to make the right decisions would show that they have the smart gene, because it takes a pretty smart person to know when good enough is good enough, and more would be too much.
Not everyone is capable of making such decisions, and that is why I would argue people who know how to make these decisions, how to become pretty, also have good genes; and they figure out how to express them.
Well, duh, you say. But let me explain myself further:
Some people are born beautiful. And some people get some help via plastic surgery, makeup, clothes, etc.
But in this society, even though we worship plastic beauty (let's call it) and put those people on a pedestal, we also, at the same time, look down on anyone who had work done; if we should learn about it.
Now, evolutionarily speaking -- or as anthropologists would have you believe -- beauty is an expression of good genes. Therefore, the more beautiful a person is, the more wonderful their genes. That's the theory.
But what happens if the person is not naturally beautiful, but they get some help from a doctor's scalpel or some other modern contrivance? Does that mean their genes are less wonderful?
Before, I would have argued yes, because that beauty they created is not an expression of nature. But today I thought of an argument to play my own devil's advocate. And this is the argument:
If a person can make themselves beautiful through whatever devices available to them, does this not mean that they are smart enough to find the right doctors or products or what have you to make themselves beautiful? And if they are smart enough to do that, to make themselves look good, does not that mean that their genes are in someway better? At least better than those who don't know how to make themselves look good?
Do you see what I 'm saying here? They may not have what you would call the "beautiful gene", but they might have what you would call, what I would call, the "smart gene", which some may argue, is an even better gene to have. Because, being smart can get you more things. It can even get you beauty. Beauty can't get you smarts, but smarts can get you beauty. And after all, these people who can make themselves look good, in so doing can attract a mate with good "beautiful genes" if they so desire, and therefore propagate even better genes down the line.
Now, I am not saying that people who overdo plastic surgery or any other cosmetic procedure have this smart gene. Because they do not look beautiful. And in order to possess this smart gene, one must be able to actually make oneself look good. Making oneself look bad or worse does not qualify. A person who can make themselves look good also has to know when to stop, when too much would be overkill and would make them look bad. This ability to make the right decisions would show that they have the smart gene, because it takes a pretty smart person to know when good enough is good enough, and more would be too much.
Not everyone is capable of making such decisions, and that is why I would argue people who know how to make these decisions, how to become pretty, also have good genes; and they figure out how to express them.
Sometimes Things Come Back to Us
I lost a tote bag recently and I was very upset. I was upset for one, because the bag was a gift from a friend, and for two, because I had entrusted it to someone who had vouchsafed for its safe return. That did not happen as, in the course of events, the bag was overlooked; and at the end of the night, when all was said and done, the bag was gone. And no one knew what had happened to it.
I myself figured that someone had taken the bag for good or for ill, stealing it or wanting a souvenir, and that it was gone for good. This troubled me as I had just begun using this bag and was looking forward to years of quality use out of it. And I will admit I do tend to get sentimentally attached to items that serve me well in my daily life. And so I was rather put out by its sudden and complete absence.
The person whom I had entrusted with it said it would perchance be found yet, but I did not truly believe her. As other items that I had left out, pens and whatnot, had been taken, I figured the bag would have been as well. I suppose I was thinking of the worst of human nature at the moment and none could convince me otherwise.
And now that I think about it my pessimism at that moment is funny to me because I have been one of the most optimistic people when it comes to losing something, having lost a few things that I then found again when it would have seemed improbable. But I think the difference this time must have been that this was a gift from a good friend. Things you can buy again, but an item that has been gifted from someone you care about represents something special, because it comes with a happy memory; in that sense, though the item can be bought again, it can never really be replaced.
And so there I was decrying terrible thieving people and entrusting people with objects I valued. This went on for most of the day though I attempted to distract myself with sleep and Hulu. At the end of the day, the person I entrusted, who really did feel bad about losing my personal item, relayed to me that a bag matching mine had been found by the establishment from whence it had gone missing. I could not believe my ears. I really had thought it was truly gone, that there was no way it would make it back to me. And yet, here it was found. I could hardly believe it. Were people not as bad as I thought? Had I overestimated the worth of this bag to anyone other than myself?
Whatever the answers to my questions were, I was not willing to believe in my good fortune until I had claimed the bag and saw that it truly was my bag. And it was. It was my bag, the bag I thought I'd never see again. And I was happy.
Now this might sound like a silly story about a silly bag but at the time of its discovery, I realized I might have just been taught a lesson. And that lesson was that: Sometimes things come back to us; even the things we think are lost for good.
I myself figured that someone had taken the bag for good or for ill, stealing it or wanting a souvenir, and that it was gone for good. This troubled me as I had just begun using this bag and was looking forward to years of quality use out of it. And I will admit I do tend to get sentimentally attached to items that serve me well in my daily life. And so I was rather put out by its sudden and complete absence.
The person whom I had entrusted with it said it would perchance be found yet, but I did not truly believe her. As other items that I had left out, pens and whatnot, had been taken, I figured the bag would have been as well. I suppose I was thinking of the worst of human nature at the moment and none could convince me otherwise.
And now that I think about it my pessimism at that moment is funny to me because I have been one of the most optimistic people when it comes to losing something, having lost a few things that I then found again when it would have seemed improbable. But I think the difference this time must have been that this was a gift from a good friend. Things you can buy again, but an item that has been gifted from someone you care about represents something special, because it comes with a happy memory; in that sense, though the item can be bought again, it can never really be replaced.
And so there I was decrying terrible thieving people and entrusting people with objects I valued. This went on for most of the day though I attempted to distract myself with sleep and Hulu. At the end of the day, the person I entrusted, who really did feel bad about losing my personal item, relayed to me that a bag matching mine had been found by the establishment from whence it had gone missing. I could not believe my ears. I really had thought it was truly gone, that there was no way it would make it back to me. And yet, here it was found. I could hardly believe it. Were people not as bad as I thought? Had I overestimated the worth of this bag to anyone other than myself?
Whatever the answers to my questions were, I was not willing to believe in my good fortune until I had claimed the bag and saw that it truly was my bag. And it was. It was my bag, the bag I thought I'd never see again. And I was happy.
Now this might sound like a silly story about a silly bag but at the time of its discovery, I realized I might have just been taught a lesson. And that lesson was that: Sometimes things come back to us; even the things we think are lost for good.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
It's Better to Learn It Now
Recently, I learned a lesson about keeping things perfect.
I received a gift but I didn't want to use it yet, lest my hands smudge it and despoil it. So I purchased a cheap cover for it online. And while I waited, I didn't use my gift because I figured the cover would come soon enough.
Well, I waited. And I waited. And I waited. And the cover still didn't come. And boy, did I get angry. I wanted to complain and write bad reviews. Now mind you, this was still in the established window for delivery, but since they had said it shipped already, I couldn't see why it hadn't already arrived. And so I was -- to put it mildly -- annoyed.
But a few days into this, more rational thought came to me and I realized: It was my fault for being annoyed. Not because I had ordered it online, nor because I wasn't patient, but because I had imposed on myself a rule that I couldn't touch my gift until this cover arrived to protect it, to keep it perfect forever more.
And that's when I realized, perhaps the universe was trying to send me a message. Perhaps it was trying to teach me something about keeping things perfect; that being, you can't keep things perfect. Thing get messed up, and dirty, and leave tracings of your touch. But so what if it does? So what if it's not perfectly clean? As long as it works and you have fun with it, that's what matters.
And so, finally, with this thought and after another day passed without receiving my cover, I opened my gift, and I (*gasp) touched it, and I got smudges on it, and I used it. And I also had fun with it. And it occurred to me then that it wasn't the worse for wear because I touched it. Actually, it seemed more mine, more personal, because I did.
A few days later, my cover finally arrived. And I put it on. And it occurred to me that it had looked a tad bit better without the cover. And then I was glad to have had that time where I had touched my gift as it was, bare and naked. It sounds silly, but there it was. I realized then that touching it unprotected hadn't made it less perfect at all; in fact, it had made it somehow better.
When I first realized this lesson I was learning, I soon thought after, "Why didn't I learn this before? I should have known this before." I have thought this thought many times in my life. It seemed to me that I could never learn anything yet it would have been better if I had learned it earlier. But then it occurred to me that: Now is the best time to learn it.
Because we need to learn something new every day. That's what makes life satisfying and full. If I had learned everything I needed to learn before this day, then I could certainly make use of my knowledge for ever after, but then also, how less satisfying my days would be if I never again after learned anything of value. If everything became, like they say, old-hat. Life would get pretty boring.
But life is not like that. Life can teach you many many things if you will only listen. And not only do you become more knowledgeable for it, you also become more satisfied with life for it.
And so now I know better: You learn something new every day. You'll just have to get used to that.
I received a gift but I didn't want to use it yet, lest my hands smudge it and despoil it. So I purchased a cheap cover for it online. And while I waited, I didn't use my gift because I figured the cover would come soon enough.
Well, I waited. And I waited. And I waited. And the cover still didn't come. And boy, did I get angry. I wanted to complain and write bad reviews. Now mind you, this was still in the established window for delivery, but since they had said it shipped already, I couldn't see why it hadn't already arrived. And so I was -- to put it mildly -- annoyed.
But a few days into this, more rational thought came to me and I realized: It was my fault for being annoyed. Not because I had ordered it online, nor because I wasn't patient, but because I had imposed on myself a rule that I couldn't touch my gift until this cover arrived to protect it, to keep it perfect forever more.
And that's when I realized, perhaps the universe was trying to send me a message. Perhaps it was trying to teach me something about keeping things perfect; that being, you can't keep things perfect. Thing get messed up, and dirty, and leave tracings of your touch. But so what if it does? So what if it's not perfectly clean? As long as it works and you have fun with it, that's what matters.
And so, finally, with this thought and after another day passed without receiving my cover, I opened my gift, and I (*gasp) touched it, and I got smudges on it, and I used it. And I also had fun with it. And it occurred to me then that it wasn't the worse for wear because I touched it. Actually, it seemed more mine, more personal, because I did.
A few days later, my cover finally arrived. And I put it on. And it occurred to me that it had looked a tad bit better without the cover. And then I was glad to have had that time where I had touched my gift as it was, bare and naked. It sounds silly, but there it was. I realized then that touching it unprotected hadn't made it less perfect at all; in fact, it had made it somehow better.
When I first realized this lesson I was learning, I soon thought after, "Why didn't I learn this before? I should have known this before." I have thought this thought many times in my life. It seemed to me that I could never learn anything yet it would have been better if I had learned it earlier. But then it occurred to me that: Now is the best time to learn it.
Because we need to learn something new every day. That's what makes life satisfying and full. If I had learned everything I needed to learn before this day, then I could certainly make use of my knowledge for ever after, but then also, how less satisfying my days would be if I never again after learned anything of value. If everything became, like they say, old-hat. Life would get pretty boring.
But life is not like that. Life can teach you many many things if you will only listen. And not only do you become more knowledgeable for it, you also become more satisfied with life for it.
And so now I know better: You learn something new every day. You'll just have to get used to that.
You Don't Have to Be Famous to Inspire People
Whenever I went to the grocery store it seemed that I would always get treated terribly by the checkout people. I would always be polite and smiling, and say "thank you"; but for whatever reason, they didn't seem to like me.
And then one day I noticed a patron do something that surprised me. I was waiting in line, and he was checking out. The cashier had no one to help her bag the groceries because they were short of staff at that time. Now, what surprised me was that instead of waiting for the cashier to bag his groceries, like everyone else did, this young man bagged his own groceries and went off.
I had never seen anyone do that in this store and so I was amazed. At this particular store, they usually bag your groceries for you. I think people actually expect that service, and that's why you pay a little more to go there versus other places where you bag your own groceries. So it never occurred to me to help bag my own groceries. I had concluded or assumed that it was "their job" and not mine to do it, and so I would always just stand by and watch them do it.
But after seeing that young man commit such a generous act, I realized that I could do the same. It was like seeing him do that gave me permission to do the same. I now understood that even though bagging groceries was "their job" because it was among the company's services, it didn't mean I couldn't help out a fellow human being, especially when they were so swamped with patrons.
And so, I started helping the cashiers bag my groceries when necessary, instead of waiting for them to do it all, and do you know what I noticed? They were much nicer and friendlier to me because of it. I think they appreciated the fact that I didn't treat them as servants but as people in need of a hand.
Some may say that I am doing their job for them, and not being paid for it. But then I would say that I am actually helping myself out by helping them. For one, I get my groceries bagged a lot quicker. For two, I get a positive response, which makes my shopping trips much more enjoyable. Smiles make me happier than having my groceries bagged. And besides, it's not like I do it all on my own. They help me and are happier for it.
Recently, I was in line again and a man was checking out ahead of me. Again, the cashier was alone with no one to help her bag his groceries. This man, however, did not help her out like the young man I witnessed before. No, he did what I used to do and waited for her to bag all his groceries. He had quite a few groceries so it took her some time to finish. And all the while he waited. And all the while I waited. When it was my turn, I did what I usually do and helped the cashier bag my groceries. Good thing too because I had quite a lot and it would have taken her a long time by herself, and I would have been waiting all the while. She was really grateful for my help and thanked me. But as I was wrapping up, I noticed that the young man behind me in line was anxious to get to the back of the lane as if he wanted to help bag his groceries too. And to see that made me really happy.
To think that it all started with that young man who I saw helping someone in need. I realized then that you can really make a difference by just acting in the way you think is right. People will follow you, people you don't even know, and other people will follow them. And you can create a whole revolution in behavior simply by doing one tiny act of kindness.
And then one day I noticed a patron do something that surprised me. I was waiting in line, and he was checking out. The cashier had no one to help her bag the groceries because they were short of staff at that time. Now, what surprised me was that instead of waiting for the cashier to bag his groceries, like everyone else did, this young man bagged his own groceries and went off.
I had never seen anyone do that in this store and so I was amazed. At this particular store, they usually bag your groceries for you. I think people actually expect that service, and that's why you pay a little more to go there versus other places where you bag your own groceries. So it never occurred to me to help bag my own groceries. I had concluded or assumed that it was "their job" and not mine to do it, and so I would always just stand by and watch them do it.
But after seeing that young man commit such a generous act, I realized that I could do the same. It was like seeing him do that gave me permission to do the same. I now understood that even though bagging groceries was "their job" because it was among the company's services, it didn't mean I couldn't help out a fellow human being, especially when they were so swamped with patrons.
And so, I started helping the cashiers bag my groceries when necessary, instead of waiting for them to do it all, and do you know what I noticed? They were much nicer and friendlier to me because of it. I think they appreciated the fact that I didn't treat them as servants but as people in need of a hand.
Some may say that I am doing their job for them, and not being paid for it. But then I would say that I am actually helping myself out by helping them. For one, I get my groceries bagged a lot quicker. For two, I get a positive response, which makes my shopping trips much more enjoyable. Smiles make me happier than having my groceries bagged. And besides, it's not like I do it all on my own. They help me and are happier for it.
Recently, I was in line again and a man was checking out ahead of me. Again, the cashier was alone with no one to help her bag his groceries. This man, however, did not help her out like the young man I witnessed before. No, he did what I used to do and waited for her to bag all his groceries. He had quite a few groceries so it took her some time to finish. And all the while he waited. And all the while I waited. When it was my turn, I did what I usually do and helped the cashier bag my groceries. Good thing too because I had quite a lot and it would have taken her a long time by herself, and I would have been waiting all the while. She was really grateful for my help and thanked me. But as I was wrapping up, I noticed that the young man behind me in line was anxious to get to the back of the lane as if he wanted to help bag his groceries too. And to see that made me really happy.
To think that it all started with that young man who I saw helping someone in need. I realized then that you can really make a difference by just acting in the way you think is right. People will follow you, people you don't even know, and other people will follow them. And you can create a whole revolution in behavior simply by doing one tiny act of kindness.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Out of Nothing: Something
When you have nothing, you create something.
I learned this truth during my week of meditation. During that time, the only chance I had to get up and do something was when I had a meal break.
Now, during this week, I couldn't go out for more food; I could only eat what was in my kitchen. And what I discovered during one meal break was that my bananas and strawberries were getting too ripe. Every other time, I would have just eaten the overripe bananas as they were, though all the while disliking them. And I would have eaten the strawberries as they were, and by dipping them into tons of white sugar. This time, however, I thought, "Why not combine the bananas and the strawberries?" So I did. And I thought, "Why not add milk and make a strawberry banana milkshake?" So I did. What before would have been an unsavory snack of overripe bananas and sugary strawberries, now became a quite healthy and delicious tasting strawberry banana milk concoction, no sugar added.
That experience makes me realize that when we have nothing, we create something. We go into ourselves and think of ideas and carry them out, and sometimes we do amazing things. But when we have stuff already made for us, like pre-packaged food and movies and iPods, and we know we can just go out and buy more stuff, we stop working our brains so much; we become merely consumers. And we consume and consume and consume. But the problem with only consuming, and not creating, not producing, is that life becomes one big blur of consuming, without the chance to discover the things, or realize the things, or create the things that can give life even more satisfaction and meaning.
I guess I just wanted to say that sometimes it is good not to have something. It is that not having it that pushes you to create something else, and perhaps leads you to something better.
I learned this truth during my week of meditation. During that time, the only chance I had to get up and do something was when I had a meal break.
Now, during this week, I couldn't go out for more food; I could only eat what was in my kitchen. And what I discovered during one meal break was that my bananas and strawberries were getting too ripe. Every other time, I would have just eaten the overripe bananas as they were, though all the while disliking them. And I would have eaten the strawberries as they were, and by dipping them into tons of white sugar. This time, however, I thought, "Why not combine the bananas and the strawberries?" So I did. And I thought, "Why not add milk and make a strawberry banana milkshake?" So I did. What before would have been an unsavory snack of overripe bananas and sugary strawberries, now became a quite healthy and delicious tasting strawberry banana milk concoction, no sugar added.
That experience makes me realize that when we have nothing, we create something. We go into ourselves and think of ideas and carry them out, and sometimes we do amazing things. But when we have stuff already made for us, like pre-packaged food and movies and iPods, and we know we can just go out and buy more stuff, we stop working our brains so much; we become merely consumers. And we consume and consume and consume. But the problem with only consuming, and not creating, not producing, is that life becomes one big blur of consuming, without the chance to discover the things, or realize the things, or create the things that can give life even more satisfaction and meaning.
I guess I just wanted to say that sometimes it is good not to have something. It is that not having it that pushes you to create something else, and perhaps leads you to something better.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
On Celebrities & Nose Jobs
Recently, I became very interested in celebrity nose jobs.
I've always been somewhat interested in their plastic surgeries, especially when it's obvious and doesn't turn out as well as they might have hoped, but I started delving particularly into nose jobs, rhinoplasty, and what I found was shocking. Shocking!
Well, shocking to me, who believed (I guess) naively that celebrities in Hollywood came out of a great gene pool and looked beautiful and fabulous with only the help of makeup and nice clothes. I assumed -- incorrectly -- that the only ones who got plastic surgery were the ones who weren't so beautiful before and who became only somewhat better looking after, and the ones who were starting to age (which is a no-no in Hollywood), and needed a lift. Boy, was I wrong.
I was never one to really believe those sites where the plastic surgeons show you two pictures and tell you the countless number of surgeries one person had on their face. I usually thought they pointed out way too much surgery to be believed, and I couldn't see any difference at all sometimes, and so I would disregard their whole spiel. But when you tell me that they have one thing done, like a nose, and I can see from their before and after pictures that that feature looks completely different (how does a nose shrink as you get older?), then I can believe the idea that they had work done. And that's exactly what happened. I stumbled upon a site (albeit it was because I searched for "celebrity rhinoplasty") and I found so many celebrities, whom I had assumed to be naturally beautiful, had had nose jobs. The photos were just too telling. I could not believe it. Virtually every celebrity I thought was beautiful had had some work done, and usually, it was their nose, although they sometimes had other stuff done too.
They say that about 95% (or some other extremely high number like that) of people in Hollywood have nose jobs. And it's not only women, men too. Plastic surgery reigns supreme in H town. I assumed that it was just boob jobs. That's what people always talk about. But I was wrong. It is everything. Almost no one in Hollywood is natural. Almost everyone is man-made, a mere mirage.
Now there's nothing wrong with nose jobs or plastic surgery, and if it makes you more beautiful (as it certainly does in some cases) and happier, I say go for it. I really don't care that celebrities get plastic surgery; it just disillusions me when I realize that they're not really as beautiful as I thought they were. Nature didn't make them beautiful, a doctor did. But I had believed that they were really, truly beautiful. And that's how they're sold, as real beauties, as creatures better than everyone else; when in point of fact, the only difference between them and everyone else is the skilled hand of a plastic surgeon.
I told my friends about all the celebs I found who have had nose jobs, and one of my friends said that "It actually makes you feel better, knowing that they're not so unattainable as you thought." Yes, it does, and it doesn't. Yes, I like thinking that they're no better than me, that with some money and a skilled plastic surgeon, I could be as breathtakingly beautiful as some of them. But on the other hand, I also liked looking up to some of these people; I liked admiring them as something better. It's like looking up to Superman and finding out that he wasn't born strong, he just takes a lot of steroids. Sure, it's nice to think that I could be like him if I just did what he did, but at the same time, I liked thinking there was someone like him in the world. He was unique, a better creature created from nature. To find out that he has been worked on by man despoils him, topples him from his high pedestal, and makes him ordinary.
I think that's the real disappointment, finding out that these people you looked up to are really just ordinary people with great surgeons. It's nice to know, and yet, it's not at the same time.
I've always been somewhat interested in their plastic surgeries, especially when it's obvious and doesn't turn out as well as they might have hoped, but I started delving particularly into nose jobs, rhinoplasty, and what I found was shocking. Shocking!
Well, shocking to me, who believed (I guess) naively that celebrities in Hollywood came out of a great gene pool and looked beautiful and fabulous with only the help of makeup and nice clothes. I assumed -- incorrectly -- that the only ones who got plastic surgery were the ones who weren't so beautiful before and who became only somewhat better looking after, and the ones who were starting to age (which is a no-no in Hollywood), and needed a lift. Boy, was I wrong.
I was never one to really believe those sites where the plastic surgeons show you two pictures and tell you the countless number of surgeries one person had on their face. I usually thought they pointed out way too much surgery to be believed, and I couldn't see any difference at all sometimes, and so I would disregard their whole spiel. But when you tell me that they have one thing done, like a nose, and I can see from their before and after pictures that that feature looks completely different (how does a nose shrink as you get older?), then I can believe the idea that they had work done. And that's exactly what happened. I stumbled upon a site (albeit it was because I searched for "celebrity rhinoplasty") and I found so many celebrities, whom I had assumed to be naturally beautiful, had had nose jobs. The photos were just too telling. I could not believe it. Virtually every celebrity I thought was beautiful had had some work done, and usually, it was their nose, although they sometimes had other stuff done too.
They say that about 95% (or some other extremely high number like that) of people in Hollywood have nose jobs. And it's not only women, men too. Plastic surgery reigns supreme in H town. I assumed that it was just boob jobs. That's what people always talk about. But I was wrong. It is everything. Almost no one in Hollywood is natural. Almost everyone is man-made, a mere mirage.
Now there's nothing wrong with nose jobs or plastic surgery, and if it makes you more beautiful (as it certainly does in some cases) and happier, I say go for it. I really don't care that celebrities get plastic surgery; it just disillusions me when I realize that they're not really as beautiful as I thought they were. Nature didn't make them beautiful, a doctor did. But I had believed that they were really, truly beautiful. And that's how they're sold, as real beauties, as creatures better than everyone else; when in point of fact, the only difference between them and everyone else is the skilled hand of a plastic surgeon.
I told my friends about all the celebs I found who have had nose jobs, and one of my friends said that "It actually makes you feel better, knowing that they're not so unattainable as you thought." Yes, it does, and it doesn't. Yes, I like thinking that they're no better than me, that with some money and a skilled plastic surgeon, I could be as breathtakingly beautiful as some of them. But on the other hand, I also liked looking up to some of these people; I liked admiring them as something better. It's like looking up to Superman and finding out that he wasn't born strong, he just takes a lot of steroids. Sure, it's nice to think that I could be like him if I just did what he did, but at the same time, I liked thinking there was someone like him in the world. He was unique, a better creature created from nature. To find out that he has been worked on by man despoils him, topples him from his high pedestal, and makes him ordinary.
I think that's the real disappointment, finding out that these people you looked up to are really just ordinary people with great surgeons. It's nice to know, and yet, it's not at the same time.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Acceptance vs Denial
I did something a while ago which I was in denial about. I'll go so far as to say it relates to a matter of the heart. Even before I did this thing, I kept telling myself -- because I was really afraid and nervous about it -- that I should just do it, and after I did it, I could pretend I didn't do it (the denial part).
Well, I did it. But afterwards, I couldn't pretend I didn't do it, and actually, trying to deny it and to avoid the consequences of my actions led me to lots of suffering and anxiety for over a month and a half. And mind you, all this suffering I caused to myself because it only existed in my head and heart.
In any case, though I suffered, I learned a good lesson, which was that, "Denial makes you suffer more than you need to." So then, recently, when I attempted something else concerning a matter of the heart, but bolder, I decided to accept what I did instead. I did not try to "deny" my actions this time. I did not try to pretend I did not do them. And what I have found is that I am so much more happier and at peace and satisfied with myself than I could ever imagine simply because I accepted my actions.
Before, when I tried to deny what I did, I became so fearful and anxious, it actually made it harder for me to forget what I did. It was so constantly on my mind. This time, when I let myself accept it, I feel so much happier and lighter, like a great weight has been lifted off of me. I feel really great about myself. And what's so amazing to me is that my actions are not at all different. All I did was change the way I dealt with them, and that made all the difference.
I feel better now because I accepted what I did and approve of it. And I realize now how important that is to me, to my mind, to my body, to accept and approve of my actions. And the other thing is, having accepted my actions, the natural course of things -- that I tried to artificially install before -- made it easier to forget what I did, and led me to a place where I could actually wonder if I really did do what I did.
Because I accept my actions, they seem less real. When I denied them, they seemed all too real. The amount of suffering I endured before and the lack of any of it now is totally unbelievable and completely awe-inspiring to me. This is the gift of acceptance, and I am really grateful that I learned it.
Well, I did it. But afterwards, I couldn't pretend I didn't do it, and actually, trying to deny it and to avoid the consequences of my actions led me to lots of suffering and anxiety for over a month and a half. And mind you, all this suffering I caused to myself because it only existed in my head and heart.
In any case, though I suffered, I learned a good lesson, which was that, "Denial makes you suffer more than you need to." So then, recently, when I attempted something else concerning a matter of the heart, but bolder, I decided to accept what I did instead. I did not try to "deny" my actions this time. I did not try to pretend I did not do them. And what I have found is that I am so much more happier and at peace and satisfied with myself than I could ever imagine simply because I accepted my actions.
Before, when I tried to deny what I did, I became so fearful and anxious, it actually made it harder for me to forget what I did. It was so constantly on my mind. This time, when I let myself accept it, I feel so much happier and lighter, like a great weight has been lifted off of me. I feel really great about myself. And what's so amazing to me is that my actions are not at all different. All I did was change the way I dealt with them, and that made all the difference.
I feel better now because I accepted what I did and approve of it. And I realize now how important that is to me, to my mind, to my body, to accept and approve of my actions. And the other thing is, having accepted my actions, the natural course of things -- that I tried to artificially install before -- made it easier to forget what I did, and led me to a place where I could actually wonder if I really did do what I did.
Because I accept my actions, they seem less real. When I denied them, they seemed all too real. The amount of suffering I endured before and the lack of any of it now is totally unbelievable and completely awe-inspiring to me. This is the gift of acceptance, and I am really grateful that I learned it.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Who Wants to Get Married?
Men, that's who.
I know, that goes against the common perception, but I have proof. Two questions will illustrate it:
1) Who started the institution of marriage in the first place?
2) Who proposes marriage most of the time?
The answer to both these questions is: Men.
Yet society and the media would have you think that it is the female species who want to get married and men who have to be dragged into it. That answer is also true.
Let me explain.
As I read in an article a month ago, men started the institution of marriage in order to have exclusive sexual access to one woman. Anthropologists will say that men want to sow their seeds as much as possible, but that doesn't help the male species if he doesn't know if his seeds are in fact sown. After all, how did a man ever really know if a child was his? (This is before DNA could tell him.) The child might really look like him, but what if it was his brother's? When it comes down to it, a man might think a child is his, he might even think many children are his, but he might actually have none that he can lay claim to if the women he is sleeping with are also sleeping with other men, and those with stronger and better semen. Only if he would have exclusive access to at least one woman who is not sleeping with other men can he be (better) assured that the children she sires are his. In any case, it would give him better odds, not only to have children but to get laid as well.
That is why men created marriage and why they still propose for it. But the thing is, just because they wanted it did not mean that women wanted it too. Yes, there is that anthropological argument that women want to get married in order to have someone to provide for her family and help raise her children. Fair enough. But could not women just band together and help raise each other's children. Or could not other family members help them? Who needs one man to be there and for a good long time? Especially if that means that they can sleep with as many men as they want and sire better offspring in the process? And after all, men will do almost anything a woman wants if she'll sleep with him, so for the time she is sleeping with him, she can get him to help take care of her children. Problem solved.
So if this is the case, why would women want to get married in the first place? Because men sold them on it, that's why. Men sold them on the idea of marriage as this great wonderful institution of love and fidelity, and women bought it hook, line, and sinker. They bought it. But not because of the romantic notions of love and fidelity (though that helped), but for something much more shallow: vanity. Love is vanity, after all. Man appealed to woman's vanity, and he got what he wanted: marriage.
And how did he do this, you ask? He did this by giving her a wedding. You may think that a wedding is about two people but you would be wrong. A wedding is not about two people, it is about one person, and one person only -- the bride. The bride is the most important person at a wedding. Can anyone disagree with that? The bride wears a beautiful white dress (or red, depending on the culture) distinguishing her from everyone else, looks amazing, has attendants (bridesmaids) following her around helping her in everything, chooses the colors and flowers to surround her, has everyone oohing and ahhing over her and doing everything to please her, and receives a beautiful engagement ring and wedding band. And she gets all this, just for getting married. As you can see, that is none too shabby.
And what about the groom, what does he get? He gets a bride, and a wedding band. That's what he gets. No one oohs and ahhs over him. He doesn't get to wear a beautiful special costume nor look anything but generic in a tuxedo or suit. He gets attendants -- groomsmen -- true, but that's hardly on par with bridesmaids since the groomsmen also wear suits and look very much like the groom, and they also don't follow him around the whole day assisting him. All in all, the groom neither gets the chance to stand out nor receive much honor, at least, not as much as his bride. Most of the attention is focused on her. The groom is just there to receive her. And he must too wait for her to come.
It would seem then that women get the better end of the deal, and that men get, well, the shaft. But that is how men sold it. The men of long ago were really very wise in that they realized that people (and women are no different) would be willing to deal with a lifetime of hard work and suffering for one day of fame and admiration. If you don't believe me, just consider the Academy Awards. Do not actors and actresses, directors and producers, toil for years on a project or many projects just for that one chance to win the admiration of everyone in the world? They do. To them, it is not about the Oscar -- that is just a representation that they have the right to be revered -- but about getting everyone to admire them and say, "Wow, she's really something."
And do not athletes work tirelessly hard for years and years and years just for a chance to win the admiration of those around them with a medal, a ring, a trophy, or a cup? They do that, people do that, willingly, happily, because winning the admiration of your fellow peers is worth that effort. A bride gets that honor, gets that admiration, albeit in a smaller form (but if it encompasses her world, it means everything to her), just by getting married. That's all she has to do.
Now can you understand how well men sold the idea of marriage to women?
Now can you understand why women want to get married? Men sold it so well that the tables were turned, and women began wanting to get married so that they could have their day in the sun, so that they could be admired and loved by all they knew and feel fabulously, wonderfully special if even just for one day. Who cared about marriage? They would get a wedding.
That is not to say that a wedding is the only reason why people get married. There are an untold number of reasons for that, love being one of them. And people will often forgo a wedding to elope or go to city hall. But that has to do with other perpetuated ideas about the goodness and wisdom of marrying.
The question I am trying to answer here is that, Would women, especially young women, want to get married as much if they would not have a wedding? And I would say no. And to go even further, Would women, especially young women, want to get married if they could have a wedding, but with the caveat that it would be to honor and admire the groom, and not them? And that they would be the ones waiting at the altar, ignored for the most part? And I would say no to that too. I would even venture to say that much less women, especially young women, would want to get married then. They could wait. Why would they tie themselves down so young?
Now do you understand why men are willing to wait to get married? They don't get what women get. There's no Groom or Modern Groom magazine dedicated to them. They don't get to be the most honored and admired person on their wedding day. They might enjoy the day, of course, and their time, but it is nowhere near the level of enjoyment that the bride receives. Grooms are the second banana at best.
It would seem the case then, that if women want men to want to marry, women need to change their tactics. Women need to, in fact, try men's tactics. If women are the ones who want to get married, then they need to sell men on it. And one way they could start is by making the wedding about the groom, about honoring the groom and making him feel special. They could switch places and be the one to wait at the altar as the groom made his way down the aisle, and everyone turned to look and admire him, and deem him very handsome and successful. They could give way and allow the groom the choice to choose his colors and his decorations, whatever he would have be it footballs or what have you. They could give men really beautiful and expensive flat screen TVs as symbols of their engagement. And having done all this, women could start being the ones expected to propose to men, causing men to dream of one day being asked for their hand in marriage.
And so the tables would be turned if women could relinquish the chance to be special for one day.
But I doubt then, very much, that women would want to get married anymore.
I know, that goes against the common perception, but I have proof. Two questions will illustrate it:
1) Who started the institution of marriage in the first place?
2) Who proposes marriage most of the time?
The answer to both these questions is: Men.
Yet society and the media would have you think that it is the female species who want to get married and men who have to be dragged into it. That answer is also true.
Let me explain.
As I read in an article a month ago, men started the institution of marriage in order to have exclusive sexual access to one woman. Anthropologists will say that men want to sow their seeds as much as possible, but that doesn't help the male species if he doesn't know if his seeds are in fact sown. After all, how did a man ever really know if a child was his? (This is before DNA could tell him.) The child might really look like him, but what if it was his brother's? When it comes down to it, a man might think a child is his, he might even think many children are his, but he might actually have none that he can lay claim to if the women he is sleeping with are also sleeping with other men, and those with stronger and better semen. Only if he would have exclusive access to at least one woman who is not sleeping with other men can he be (better) assured that the children she sires are his. In any case, it would give him better odds, not only to have children but to get laid as well.
That is why men created marriage and why they still propose for it. But the thing is, just because they wanted it did not mean that women wanted it too. Yes, there is that anthropological argument that women want to get married in order to have someone to provide for her family and help raise her children. Fair enough. But could not women just band together and help raise each other's children. Or could not other family members help them? Who needs one man to be there and for a good long time? Especially if that means that they can sleep with as many men as they want and sire better offspring in the process? And after all, men will do almost anything a woman wants if she'll sleep with him, so for the time she is sleeping with him, she can get him to help take care of her children. Problem solved.
So if this is the case, why would women want to get married in the first place? Because men sold them on it, that's why. Men sold them on the idea of marriage as this great wonderful institution of love and fidelity, and women bought it hook, line, and sinker. They bought it. But not because of the romantic notions of love and fidelity (though that helped), but for something much more shallow: vanity. Love is vanity, after all. Man appealed to woman's vanity, and he got what he wanted: marriage.
And how did he do this, you ask? He did this by giving her a wedding. You may think that a wedding is about two people but you would be wrong. A wedding is not about two people, it is about one person, and one person only -- the bride. The bride is the most important person at a wedding. Can anyone disagree with that? The bride wears a beautiful white dress (or red, depending on the culture) distinguishing her from everyone else, looks amazing, has attendants (bridesmaids) following her around helping her in everything, chooses the colors and flowers to surround her, has everyone oohing and ahhing over her and doing everything to please her, and receives a beautiful engagement ring and wedding band. And she gets all this, just for getting married. As you can see, that is none too shabby.
And what about the groom, what does he get? He gets a bride, and a wedding band. That's what he gets. No one oohs and ahhs over him. He doesn't get to wear a beautiful special costume nor look anything but generic in a tuxedo or suit. He gets attendants -- groomsmen -- true, but that's hardly on par with bridesmaids since the groomsmen also wear suits and look very much like the groom, and they also don't follow him around the whole day assisting him. All in all, the groom neither gets the chance to stand out nor receive much honor, at least, not as much as his bride. Most of the attention is focused on her. The groom is just there to receive her. And he must too wait for her to come.
It would seem then that women get the better end of the deal, and that men get, well, the shaft. But that is how men sold it. The men of long ago were really very wise in that they realized that people (and women are no different) would be willing to deal with a lifetime of hard work and suffering for one day of fame and admiration. If you don't believe me, just consider the Academy Awards. Do not actors and actresses, directors and producers, toil for years on a project or many projects just for that one chance to win the admiration of everyone in the world? They do. To them, it is not about the Oscar -- that is just a representation that they have the right to be revered -- but about getting everyone to admire them and say, "Wow, she's really something."
And do not athletes work tirelessly hard for years and years and years just for a chance to win the admiration of those around them with a medal, a ring, a trophy, or a cup? They do that, people do that, willingly, happily, because winning the admiration of your fellow peers is worth that effort. A bride gets that honor, gets that admiration, albeit in a smaller form (but if it encompasses her world, it means everything to her), just by getting married. That's all she has to do.
Now can you understand how well men sold the idea of marriage to women?
Now can you understand why women want to get married? Men sold it so well that the tables were turned, and women began wanting to get married so that they could have their day in the sun, so that they could be admired and loved by all they knew and feel fabulously, wonderfully special if even just for one day. Who cared about marriage? They would get a wedding.
That is not to say that a wedding is the only reason why people get married. There are an untold number of reasons for that, love being one of them. And people will often forgo a wedding to elope or go to city hall. But that has to do with other perpetuated ideas about the goodness and wisdom of marrying.
The question I am trying to answer here is that, Would women, especially young women, want to get married as much if they would not have a wedding? And I would say no. And to go even further, Would women, especially young women, want to get married if they could have a wedding, but with the caveat that it would be to honor and admire the groom, and not them? And that they would be the ones waiting at the altar, ignored for the most part? And I would say no to that too. I would even venture to say that much less women, especially young women, would want to get married then. They could wait. Why would they tie themselves down so young?
Now do you understand why men are willing to wait to get married? They don't get what women get. There's no Groom or Modern Groom magazine dedicated to them. They don't get to be the most honored and admired person on their wedding day. They might enjoy the day, of course, and their time, but it is nowhere near the level of enjoyment that the bride receives. Grooms are the second banana at best.
It would seem the case then, that if women want men to want to marry, women need to change their tactics. Women need to, in fact, try men's tactics. If women are the ones who want to get married, then they need to sell men on it. And one way they could start is by making the wedding about the groom, about honoring the groom and making him feel special. They could switch places and be the one to wait at the altar as the groom made his way down the aisle, and everyone turned to look and admire him, and deem him very handsome and successful. They could give way and allow the groom the choice to choose his colors and his decorations, whatever he would have be it footballs or what have you. They could give men really beautiful and expensive flat screen TVs as symbols of their engagement. And having done all this, women could start being the ones expected to propose to men, causing men to dream of one day being asked for their hand in marriage.
And so the tables would be turned if women could relinquish the chance to be special for one day.
But I doubt then, very much, that women would want to get married anymore.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Give Yourself Permission
One day some time ago my building manager came around to tell me that they would be doing repairs on the pipes from 11am to 1pm, and to make arrangements accordingly because the water would be off and unavailable. I go to bed and wake up late anyway. So I thought, this would be fine. All I would have to do is go to bed even later than usual, and then wake up later than usual, therefore bypassing the whole water ordeal.
This was my plan. And a great plan I thought it was. Throughout the day, I kept reminding myself that I could go to sleep late. Now, just so you know, I have no problem staying up late but I am constantly berating myself for doing so. And yet, I still sleep late and as time goes on, much later than I would like. But it is a vicious cycle that seems to have no end, because the later I sleep, the later I get up, and the later I sleep that day, and so on.
But this time, this time, I allowed myself the opportunity to sleep late. Not only could I then get more things done, but I would have the added benefit of not having to deal with not having water for three hours the next day.
And so I was happy thinking that I would carry out this plan, and that I would finally be giving myself permission to stay up late, and to go to bed late, and to even *gasp* enjoy my time. And then midnight rolled around. And do you know what happened at midnight? I fell asleep. Yes, that's right, I fell asleep. I was supposed to go to sleep around 5am in order to get up around 1pm and bypass the whole water ordeal. But no, I fell asleep at midnight. And do you want to know when I woke up? 8:30am. 8:30am!
I got up at 8:30am when I didn't have to. Even though I had given myself permission to sleep late, I didn't take it. Instead, I slept early, which I never do, and I woke up early, which I also never do. And then I had to go about prepping water for the three hours that I would be without it. Exactly the thing that I had been trying to avoid dealing with by going to sleep late. This should have been easy for me, but it didn't work out that way.
I have heard this before but this experience helped further to impress on me how perverse humans are. That is, when you don't allow yourself to do something, or you don't give yourself permission to do it, or you berate yourself for doing it, then you end up doing it nonetheless. But when you do finally give yourself permission to do it, you end up not even doing it, even when it's good for you, even when it benefits you. It's a perverse reaction. But it holds true. I have first-hand experience to it.
So then, if it is human nature to be perverse, then at least we might as well learn to make some use of it and use it to our advantage. After all, if we start giving ourselves permission to do things we know we should not do, perhaps we would stop doing them. It is the feeling that we can't do them that makes us want to do them, after all. It is the forbidden fruit that we seek. Permitted fruit is not so tempting.
I was thinking of this reaction as it pertains to overeating. People who overeat don't give themselves permission and that might be why they overeat; just as I did not give myself permission to stay up late, and yet that is exactly what I did. So perhaps what overeaters need to do is to give themselves permission to eat. A lot of times when I talk to people who are trying to lose weight or on some sort of diet, they say things like they can't eat this or that, or they eat too much. They don't give themselves permission to eat the foods they like and to enjoy them, and so their body reacts by eating more. So maybe what they need to do is to give themselves permission to eat more and enjoy it, and see what happens.
The thing is, we will do the opposite of what we tell ourselves, especially if we judge our actions as being somehow wrong, so why not then give ourselves permission to be bad? And maybe, that will make us somehow better.
This was my plan. And a great plan I thought it was. Throughout the day, I kept reminding myself that I could go to sleep late. Now, just so you know, I have no problem staying up late but I am constantly berating myself for doing so. And yet, I still sleep late and as time goes on, much later than I would like. But it is a vicious cycle that seems to have no end, because the later I sleep, the later I get up, and the later I sleep that day, and so on.
But this time, this time, I allowed myself the opportunity to sleep late. Not only could I then get more things done, but I would have the added benefit of not having to deal with not having water for three hours the next day.
And so I was happy thinking that I would carry out this plan, and that I would finally be giving myself permission to stay up late, and to go to bed late, and to even *gasp* enjoy my time. And then midnight rolled around. And do you know what happened at midnight? I fell asleep. Yes, that's right, I fell asleep. I was supposed to go to sleep around 5am in order to get up around 1pm and bypass the whole water ordeal. But no, I fell asleep at midnight. And do you want to know when I woke up? 8:30am. 8:30am!
I got up at 8:30am when I didn't have to. Even though I had given myself permission to sleep late, I didn't take it. Instead, I slept early, which I never do, and I woke up early, which I also never do. And then I had to go about prepping water for the three hours that I would be without it. Exactly the thing that I had been trying to avoid dealing with by going to sleep late. This should have been easy for me, but it didn't work out that way.
I have heard this before but this experience helped further to impress on me how perverse humans are. That is, when you don't allow yourself to do something, or you don't give yourself permission to do it, or you berate yourself for doing it, then you end up doing it nonetheless. But when you do finally give yourself permission to do it, you end up not even doing it, even when it's good for you, even when it benefits you. It's a perverse reaction. But it holds true. I have first-hand experience to it.
So then, if it is human nature to be perverse, then at least we might as well learn to make some use of it and use it to our advantage. After all, if we start giving ourselves permission to do things we know we should not do, perhaps we would stop doing them. It is the feeling that we can't do them that makes us want to do them, after all. It is the forbidden fruit that we seek. Permitted fruit is not so tempting.
I was thinking of this reaction as it pertains to overeating. People who overeat don't give themselves permission and that might be why they overeat; just as I did not give myself permission to stay up late, and yet that is exactly what I did. So perhaps what overeaters need to do is to give themselves permission to eat. A lot of times when I talk to people who are trying to lose weight or on some sort of diet, they say things like they can't eat this or that, or they eat too much. They don't give themselves permission to eat the foods they like and to enjoy them, and so their body reacts by eating more. So maybe what they need to do is to give themselves permission to eat more and enjoy it, and see what happens.
The thing is, we will do the opposite of what we tell ourselves, especially if we judge our actions as being somehow wrong, so why not then give ourselves permission to be bad? And maybe, that will make us somehow better.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
The Botox Lesson
I once read an article that said that people who get Botox not only show less emotion, they feel less emotion too.
Their inability to move their faces to express their feelings led to their inability to even feel those emotions in the first place. People who got Botox injections could not feel anger or even extreme happiness because their faces could not express those emotions. Thus, Botox paralyzed not only their faces but their emotions as well.
So if that's the case, why not smile more? And feel happy? It's like they always say: When you smile you feel happy. And Botox proves them to be true. The mere act of smiling brings up good emotions just as the mere act of frowning brings up bad ones. Facial expressions, therefore, are not merely a side effect of feelings but a cause of feelings as well.
After reading this article, I attempted to keep my face immobile -- free of expression -- for a time, and what I found was that it is true what they say. Without the expression, you don't feel the emotion. But change your face to a certain expression and you'll feel the emotion rush over you.
So there it is, a lesson from Botox: You have much more control over your feelings than you realized; that is, as long as you're not using Botox.
Their inability to move their faces to express their feelings led to their inability to even feel those emotions in the first place. People who got Botox injections could not feel anger or even extreme happiness because their faces could not express those emotions. Thus, Botox paralyzed not only their faces but their emotions as well.
So if that's the case, why not smile more? And feel happy? It's like they always say: When you smile you feel happy. And Botox proves them to be true. The mere act of smiling brings up good emotions just as the mere act of frowning brings up bad ones. Facial expressions, therefore, are not merely a side effect of feelings but a cause of feelings as well.
After reading this article, I attempted to keep my face immobile -- free of expression -- for a time, and what I found was that it is true what they say. Without the expression, you don't feel the emotion. But change your face to a certain expression and you'll feel the emotion rush over you.
So there it is, a lesson from Botox: You have much more control over your feelings than you realized; that is, as long as you're not using Botox.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Potato Boats
I loved Potato Boats as a kid. Here is my recipe for making them:
4 potatoes
1 tbsp olive oil
3 tsp salt
3/4 cup milk
1/2 stick butter
2 cups shredded cheese
(other topping suggestions: mushrooms, bacon, green onion, sour cream, grilled onions)
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Thoroughly wash the potatoes with a brush, cutting out any roots growing out of the eyes, green or rotten areas. In a bowl, rub the potatoes with olive oil, and then with salt. This makes for a tasty and crunchy skin. Poke holes in the potatoes with a fork. Place the potatoes in the middle of the oven, with a baking sheet on a level below to catch any drippings. Cook for 35 minutes.
When the potatoes have cooked for 35 minutes, remove them from the oven carefully. They will be very hot! When they have cooled enough to touch, cut them in half lengthwise. Then with a small spoon, scoop out the insides of the potatoes, leaving only the outside skin. Be delicate with this as the skins are very delicate and may tear with too much force.
Scoop all the potatoes into a bowl. Add milk and mash the potatoes with a fork. Then mix in salt to taste, 1 cup cheese, and butter. Add other toppings as desired.
When the potatoes are thoroughly mixed, scoop out the mixture into the potato skin shells. Then add 1 cup cheese as topping over the boats. Place back into oven carefully, and cook for 40 minutes.
Carefully remove the boats. Makes 8 servings.
4 potatoes
1 tbsp olive oil
3 tsp salt
3/4 cup milk
1/2 stick butter
2 cups shredded cheese
(other topping suggestions: mushrooms, bacon, green onion, sour cream, grilled onions)
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Thoroughly wash the potatoes with a brush, cutting out any roots growing out of the eyes, green or rotten areas. In a bowl, rub the potatoes with olive oil, and then with salt. This makes for a tasty and crunchy skin. Poke holes in the potatoes with a fork. Place the potatoes in the middle of the oven, with a baking sheet on a level below to catch any drippings. Cook for 35 minutes.
When the potatoes have cooked for 35 minutes, remove them from the oven carefully. They will be very hot! When they have cooled enough to touch, cut them in half lengthwise. Then with a small spoon, scoop out the insides of the potatoes, leaving only the outside skin. Be delicate with this as the skins are very delicate and may tear with too much force.
Scoop all the potatoes into a bowl. Add milk and mash the potatoes with a fork. Then mix in salt to taste, 1 cup cheese, and butter. Add other toppings as desired.
When the potatoes are thoroughly mixed, scoop out the mixture into the potato skin shells. Then add 1 cup cheese as topping over the boats. Place back into oven carefully, and cook for 40 minutes.
Carefully remove the boats. Makes 8 servings.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Deviled Eggs
4 eggs
2 tbsps mayonnaise
1 dash salt
1 dash pepper
Boil eggs in a half quart of water in a saucepan for 17 minutes. Remove eggs and place in cold water. When eggs are cooled, crack the shells and peel them off. Cut the eggs in half lengthwise.
Scoop out the yolk, and mix with mayonnaise, salt and pepper to taste. Scoop the mixture back into the egg whites. Makes 8 servings.
2 tbsps mayonnaise
1 dash salt
1 dash pepper
Boil eggs in a half quart of water in a saucepan for 17 minutes. Remove eggs and place in cold water. When eggs are cooled, crack the shells and peel them off. Cut the eggs in half lengthwise.
Scoop out the yolk, and mix with mayonnaise, salt and pepper to taste. Scoop the mixture back into the egg whites. Makes 8 servings.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Simple Spaghetti or Pasta with Meatballs
1/2 pkg spaghetti / other pasta
1/2 jar spaghetti / alfredo sauce
2 ground turkey patties
1 tsp canola / olive oil
Add oil to the frying pan and put on medium low heat. When the oil slides easily in the pan, add in the turkey patties. With the spatula, break up the meat into smaller pieces and let cook. Boil half a quart of water in a saucepan. Then lower heat, and add spaghetti / pasta to bowling. Let cook for time recommended on package, usually 9-13 minutes.
When the turkey is cooked, add the spaghetti sauce and mix. Raise the temperature to medium and let the sauce boil for a minute before reducing the heat back to medium low.
When the spaghetti is done, strain it with a colander, and pour in cold water while stirring the spaghetti. The cold water will keep the spaghetti from sticking.
Add the meat sauce to the spaghetti to taste. Makes approx. 3-4 servings.
1/2 jar spaghetti / alfredo sauce
2 ground turkey patties
1 tsp canola / olive oil
Add oil to the frying pan and put on medium low heat. When the oil slides easily in the pan, add in the turkey patties. With the spatula, break up the meat into smaller pieces and let cook. Boil half a quart of water in a saucepan. Then lower heat, and add spaghetti / pasta to bowling. Let cook for time recommended on package, usually 9-13 minutes.
When the turkey is cooked, add the spaghetti sauce and mix. Raise the temperature to medium and let the sauce boil for a minute before reducing the heat back to medium low.
When the spaghetti is done, strain it with a colander, and pour in cold water while stirring the spaghetti. The cold water will keep the spaghetti from sticking.
Add the meat sauce to the spaghetti to taste. Makes approx. 3-4 servings.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Nice Hair
For Nice Hair
Wash your hair as little as possible. It may sound counter-intuitive but washing your hair removes the sebum that protects it, and also dries it out. At the very least, wash your hair every other day.
When you do wash your hair, use a shampoo without sodium laurel sulfate. This chemical that causes the shampoo to lather also strips your hair of sebum, causing your body to overcompensate by making more and giving you oily hair. Natural shampoos and conditioners don't have this chemical and are actually better for your hair. I recommend Burt's Bees Very Volumizing Pomegranate & Soy Shampoo & Conditioner, or Wen. You will notice a difference when you start using natural hair products. Your hair will feel much lighter and much healthier.
Comb your hair in the shower and outside. Comb your hair after you apply conditioner, and then once again once it's rinsed out. The first combing allows the conditioner to absorb into each strand; the second helps detangle your hair before it dries.
Limit the use of hair brushes and hot irons and hair dryers. Brushing your hair frequently is actually not great for it as is the common perception. The better thing to do is to comb your hair, or only brush your hair through once. Limit the use of hot irons and opt for overnight curlers in your hair instead. Stay away from hair dryers as much as possible as they lead to split ends. Let your hair dry naturally and you will save some time and your hair.
Wash your hair as little as possible. It may sound counter-intuitive but washing your hair removes the sebum that protects it, and also dries it out. At the very least, wash your hair every other day.
When you do wash your hair, use a shampoo without sodium laurel sulfate. This chemical that causes the shampoo to lather also strips your hair of sebum, causing your body to overcompensate by making more and giving you oily hair. Natural shampoos and conditioners don't have this chemical and are actually better for your hair. I recommend Burt's Bees Very Volumizing Pomegranate & Soy Shampoo & Conditioner, or Wen. You will notice a difference when you start using natural hair products. Your hair will feel much lighter and much healthier.
Comb your hair in the shower and outside. Comb your hair after you apply conditioner, and then once again once it's rinsed out. The first combing allows the conditioner to absorb into each strand; the second helps detangle your hair before it dries.
Limit the use of hair brushes and hot irons and hair dryers. Brushing your hair frequently is actually not great for it as is the common perception. The better thing to do is to comb your hair, or only brush your hair through once. Limit the use of hot irons and opt for overnight curlers in your hair instead. Stay away from hair dryers as much as possible as they lead to split ends. Let your hair dry naturally and you will save some time and your hair.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Soft Hands, Soft Feet
For Soft Feet
Apply lotion / Vaseline nightly to feet. Then put on socks. This will moisturize your feet as you sleep.
For Soft Hands
Apply lotion nightly to hands. Then put on gloves (any cheap cotton pair will do just as long as your hands are covered). This will moisturize your hands as you sleep.
Tip: You can also apply lotion during the day and wear socks and gloves over your feet and hands. For hands, take out one of those bottles of lotion you have but aren't particularly fond of and apply it after each hand wash. Even though it seems like a waste, it isn't because 1) you're getting some use out of a lotion you wouldn't be using anyway, and because 2) applying the lotion moisturizes and protects your hands during hand washes, which actually makes a world of difference.
After one week of daily application, you will notice a great difference in the softness and smoothness of your hands and feet.
Apply lotion / Vaseline nightly to feet. Then put on socks. This will moisturize your feet as you sleep.
For Soft Hands
Apply lotion nightly to hands. Then put on gloves (any cheap cotton pair will do just as long as your hands are covered). This will moisturize your hands as you sleep.
Tip: You can also apply lotion during the day and wear socks and gloves over your feet and hands. For hands, take out one of those bottles of lotion you have but aren't particularly fond of and apply it after each hand wash. Even though it seems like a waste, it isn't because 1) you're getting some use out of a lotion you wouldn't be using anyway, and because 2) applying the lotion moisturizes and protects your hands during hand washes, which actually makes a world of difference.
After one week of daily application, you will notice a great difference in the softness and smoothness of your hands and feet.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Simple Pizza Recipe
1 Pita Bread
or 1 English Muffin half
1 can Tomato Paste
1 pkg Mozzarella Cheese
Pepperoni, Mushrooms, Ham, Pineapple, Onions, Bell Peppers, Sausages, etc.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.
Spread Tomato Paste onto bread. Add Mozzarella Cheese. Add other toppings as desired.
Place pizza directly on center rack. Bake for 15 minutes. Makes one serving.
or 1 English Muffin half
1 can Tomato Paste
1 pkg Mozzarella Cheese
Pepperoni, Mushrooms, Ham, Pineapple, Onions, Bell Peppers, Sausages, etc.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.
Spread Tomato Paste onto bread. Add Mozzarella Cheese. Add other toppings as desired.
Place pizza directly on center rack. Bake for 15 minutes. Makes one serving.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Exercise to Relieve Stress
My friend went to a stress seminar and she learned something very interesting. Namely, she learned that stress is the body's fight or flight response to potentially harmful stimuli. Stress actually helps us in those times of extreme duress because it energizes us to take action, to do something.
In the old days, when we lived in the jungle or had to deal with real animal predators, this response was very useful to us, and helped us to survive. Nowadays, when our jungle is more steel in nature and our fears more imagined, we still feel that fight or flight response to unwanted stimuli. The only problem now is that we don't react to it. That is, we don't move, or take action. We just sit there and endure it. That means that we create that energy, and instead of acting to let it out, we trap it in.
That repressed energy then ends up hurting us physically and mentally and emotionally. So how do you let go of this energy so that it doesn't harm you? The best way, said the stress expert to my friend, is to simply exercise. If the whole reason we feel stress is so that we can act, and do something, if we do nothing, then that stress remains with us. And if we keep feeling stress and bottling it up, that compounds all that energy on top of previous bottled energy, and harms us more and more each day we keep it in. However, if we just exercise thirty minutes a day, we give ourselves an outlet to let that trapped energy out.
Now that's a good reason to exercise. If you told me that exercising would relieve all my stress, I would do it in a heartbeat. It's that easy? It's that simple? I'd do it just to feel good after. That's positive reinforcement. That's something I could hold on to and feel good about. For the past few decades, we've made exercise a bad word, a bad idea by associating it primarily with weight loss. And so people feel that it's more of a punishment than a pleasure. That bad reputation makes us dread doing it and means that we do it even less. If we could now associate exercise with stress relief instead, I think we could convince a lot more people to go ahead and take up the towel.
In the old days, when we lived in the jungle or had to deal with real animal predators, this response was very useful to us, and helped us to survive. Nowadays, when our jungle is more steel in nature and our fears more imagined, we still feel that fight or flight response to unwanted stimuli. The only problem now is that we don't react to it. That is, we don't move, or take action. We just sit there and endure it. That means that we create that energy, and instead of acting to let it out, we trap it in.
That repressed energy then ends up hurting us physically and mentally and emotionally. So how do you let go of this energy so that it doesn't harm you? The best way, said the stress expert to my friend, is to simply exercise. If the whole reason we feel stress is so that we can act, and do something, if we do nothing, then that stress remains with us. And if we keep feeling stress and bottling it up, that compounds all that energy on top of previous bottled energy, and harms us more and more each day we keep it in. However, if we just exercise thirty minutes a day, we give ourselves an outlet to let that trapped energy out.
Now that's a good reason to exercise. If you told me that exercising would relieve all my stress, I would do it in a heartbeat. It's that easy? It's that simple? I'd do it just to feel good after. That's positive reinforcement. That's something I could hold on to and feel good about. For the past few decades, we've made exercise a bad word, a bad idea by associating it primarily with weight loss. And so people feel that it's more of a punishment than a pleasure. That bad reputation makes us dread doing it and means that we do it even less. If we could now associate exercise with stress relief instead, I think we could convince a lot more people to go ahead and take up the towel.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
21 is the Magic Number
Everyone under 21 thinks they're too young.
Everyone over 21 thinks they're too old.
Everyone 21 thinks there's nothing really magical about it, and that they're getting old.
Everyone over 21 thinks they're too old.
Everyone 21 thinks there's nothing really magical about it, and that they're getting old.
Timing is Everything
The wise people say that "Fortune favors the bold," and "Patience is a virtue" but these axioms would seem to contradict one another. Though good advice, they do not always ring true in every situation. Sometimes being bold will get you into hot water, and sometimes being patient is letting opportunity slip through your fingers. In actuality, it would seem, then, that these two adages work best when combined into the one overall adage that always holds true: Timing is Everything.
Timing is everything. If you're in the right place at the right time, you can get almost anything you want. But if you're too late or too early, then you're out of luck. And nothing can be done for you. So being bold, going in before you're comfortable, might hurt you; and being patient, waiting for a time when you're sure, might also hurt you. So what is to be done since timing cannot be controlled or prepared for?
In life, fortunately, when one opportunity passes you by, there is another that comes along. That is the beauty of life. And the wise person is the one that keeps looking for that opportunity, for the time when they will get to that right place just in time to be lucky.
I suppose then that these two adages actually do work in concert together: You have to be bold to seize the opportunity when it comes, before it passes you by. But if for some reason, your timing is off or, for whatever reason, the opportunity passed you by, you need to have patience to wait for the next opportunity to come. In that way, then, being bold and being patient are harmonious attributes that make for a more successful and satisfied life.
Timing is everything. If you're in the right place at the right time, you can get almost anything you want. But if you're too late or too early, then you're out of luck. And nothing can be done for you. So being bold, going in before you're comfortable, might hurt you; and being patient, waiting for a time when you're sure, might also hurt you. So what is to be done since timing cannot be controlled or prepared for?
In life, fortunately, when one opportunity passes you by, there is another that comes along. That is the beauty of life. And the wise person is the one that keeps looking for that opportunity, for the time when they will get to that right place just in time to be lucky.
I suppose then that these two adages actually do work in concert together: You have to be bold to seize the opportunity when it comes, before it passes you by. But if for some reason, your timing is off or, for whatever reason, the opportunity passed you by, you need to have patience to wait for the next opportunity to come. In that way, then, being bold and being patient are harmonious attributes that make for a more successful and satisfied life.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Cut Out the Serving Sizes
Recently, the FDA has taken up the cause of updating serving sizes. They first came up with standard serving sizes in the 1990s, using data collected on the eating habits of Americans in the 1970s and 1980s. But that data has become suspect and the FDA wants to revamp the system with more realistic sizes. After all, who really eats only a handful of chips, half a can of soup, half a muffin, or half a candy bar? Yet these sizes are what the manufacturers use to determine the numbers they put on the label for calorie and nutritional content.
The thing is, no one pays attention to serving sizes anyway. I know I don't. They don't make any sense. And even if they did, I still wouldn't heed them because I don't like the idea of anyone sanctioning how much I should eat. That's for my body to decide, not anyone else. And everyone is different. No matter how much studying scientists do, they won't be able to create serving sizes that fit everyone's daily habits. Even if everyone were the same size, we would still eat differently at different times.
Besides, has the creation of standard serving sizes -- or for that matter, the nutrition label -- really helped us? It would seem that this country has only gotten much more obese since the launch of all this nutrition label stuff. Perhaps the FDA should consider that all this is just TMI (too much information), and we were all a lot better off when we didn't know the number of calories we ate, and relied instead on our bodies to make the right decisions for us. That's because people don't realize they can't rely on their conscious minds to do everything for them. Sometimes, your body knows better than you. And if we could trust our bodies, we would all be a lot better. After all, it's the TV commercials influencing our consciences that make us crave junk food in the first place.
But I digress. The point I wanted to make here is that we don't need serving sizes. And we really should just do away with them. No one pays attention to them and they seem to do more harm than good.
What would make more sense is to use cup sizes as the standard. In most cases, people eat about a cup of food or drink. If they eat more, they can multiply the numbers listed on the label to figure out their nutritional content, and if they eat less, divide them. What's more, nearly everyone has a measuring cup to measure their food if they so wish to be exact, and everyone has an idea how much a cupful of food is.
And this way, no one will feel like anyone is recommending how much they should eat. That's the problem with serving sizes, after all. Make them too big, and it seems like you're advocating people eat more. Make them too small, and people overeat because they underestimate the calorie content. So why not not recommend anything? Let people think for themselves. Let them know how much is in a cup and let them take it from there.
The thing is, no one pays attention to serving sizes anyway. I know I don't. They don't make any sense. And even if they did, I still wouldn't heed them because I don't like the idea of anyone sanctioning how much I should eat. That's for my body to decide, not anyone else. And everyone is different. No matter how much studying scientists do, they won't be able to create serving sizes that fit everyone's daily habits. Even if everyone were the same size, we would still eat differently at different times.
Besides, has the creation of standard serving sizes -- or for that matter, the nutrition label -- really helped us? It would seem that this country has only gotten much more obese since the launch of all this nutrition label stuff. Perhaps the FDA should consider that all this is just TMI (too much information), and we were all a lot better off when we didn't know the number of calories we ate, and relied instead on our bodies to make the right decisions for us. That's because people don't realize they can't rely on their conscious minds to do everything for them. Sometimes, your body knows better than you. And if we could trust our bodies, we would all be a lot better. After all, it's the TV commercials influencing our consciences that make us crave junk food in the first place.
But I digress. The point I wanted to make here is that we don't need serving sizes. And we really should just do away with them. No one pays attention to them and they seem to do more harm than good.
What would make more sense is to use cup sizes as the standard. In most cases, people eat about a cup of food or drink. If they eat more, they can multiply the numbers listed on the label to figure out their nutritional content, and if they eat less, divide them. What's more, nearly everyone has a measuring cup to measure their food if they so wish to be exact, and everyone has an idea how much a cupful of food is.
And this way, no one will feel like anyone is recommending how much they should eat. That's the problem with serving sizes, after all. Make them too big, and it seems like you're advocating people eat more. Make them too small, and people overeat because they underestimate the calorie content. So why not not recommend anything? Let people think for themselves. Let them know how much is in a cup and let them take it from there.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Good Choice -- Good to Say?
Recently my friend broke up with her boyfriend. They had been going out a long time, and after finally realizing that he would not be able to commit to her as she wanted (i.e. marriage), she decided to end the relationship. This had been in the works for the last few years but it took her a while to finally break it off. This was because, as she explained it, they had a good relationship. He was good to her, and she liked spending time with him, and they were good together. The only problem was when she thought about the future, and he couldn't give her a straight answer. She just wanted to know that their relationship was going somewhere and because he couldn't tell her that it was, she decided to cut her losses and look for something (someone) else.
Eventually she let us know that they had broken up. My friends and I had known that this was a long time coming, since she had been complaining for a few years about him not wanting to marry her (yet) and saying that she would break up with him at a certain point. After a while, though, we all wondered if she would actually go through with it, or if she had lost the heart. We all thought that it would be a good idea, that he didn't deserve her, and that losing her would be the only way that he would see how great she really is.
But when she told us, none of said what we had been truly thinking. Neither "that's great!" nor "finally!" Instead, we stuck with sympathetic remarks and polite questions about how she felt, and how it happened, and what she was going to do now? And even though I had sensed as I was driving to our meeting place that this revelation was the purpose of our meeting, and imagined myself hugging and congratulating her, I didn't do it. I suppose I took my cue from the other two, and didn't say anything of the sort.
It wasn't until after we had parted ways, and I was walking with my friend back to her car that we had our own little chat, where she intimated that she wasn't sure she made the right choice, and that she sometimes regretted it. I made up my mind to tell her then that when I was driving there sensing what she would tell us, I had thought, "it's a good choice". I told her that I didn't know what was going to happen in the future, but at this moment, she made a good choice.
And the funny thing is, she thanked me. I wasn't sure what kind of reaction I expected, but I didn't expect that one. At first I thought perhaps she might be thanking me just to be polite. And I replied quicker than I could think, "No, you should thank yourself, you're the one who did it." But she kept saying that not many people when you tell them such news would tell you that -- that you made a good decision -- but I did, and it was actually good for her to hear it. It finally dawned on me that she was being sincere, and so I replied that I just call it like I see it, and left it at that. She was glad I did. And so was I.
I didn't think about it until my friend pointed it out to me that it is rare for people to be so direct on such a topic. For some reason, people don't want to praise you for breaking up with someone, even when it's a good move. I guess they feel that you might get angry at them for inserting their opinion unasked, and that it would be rude and unfeeling to say such a thing when you're feeling so badly.
But sometimes, as in this case, it is good to praise someone for the decision they made. That's because we all need that validation, that feeling and knowledge that what we did was wise. As humans we doubt ourselves so much, even when we think we're sure. It's nice for us when someone can allay that doubt even just a bit. And the thing is, we feel better knowing someone else also thinks we made a good choice.
Eventually she let us know that they had broken up. My friends and I had known that this was a long time coming, since she had been complaining for a few years about him not wanting to marry her (yet) and saying that she would break up with him at a certain point. After a while, though, we all wondered if she would actually go through with it, or if she had lost the heart. We all thought that it would be a good idea, that he didn't deserve her, and that losing her would be the only way that he would see how great she really is.
But when she told us, none of said what we had been truly thinking. Neither "that's great!" nor "finally!" Instead, we stuck with sympathetic remarks and polite questions about how she felt, and how it happened, and what she was going to do now? And even though I had sensed as I was driving to our meeting place that this revelation was the purpose of our meeting, and imagined myself hugging and congratulating her, I didn't do it. I suppose I took my cue from the other two, and didn't say anything of the sort.
It wasn't until after we had parted ways, and I was walking with my friend back to her car that we had our own little chat, where she intimated that she wasn't sure she made the right choice, and that she sometimes regretted it. I made up my mind to tell her then that when I was driving there sensing what she would tell us, I had thought, "it's a good choice". I told her that I didn't know what was going to happen in the future, but at this moment, she made a good choice.
And the funny thing is, she thanked me. I wasn't sure what kind of reaction I expected, but I didn't expect that one. At first I thought perhaps she might be thanking me just to be polite. And I replied quicker than I could think, "No, you should thank yourself, you're the one who did it." But she kept saying that not many people when you tell them such news would tell you that -- that you made a good decision -- but I did, and it was actually good for her to hear it. It finally dawned on me that she was being sincere, and so I replied that I just call it like I see it, and left it at that. She was glad I did. And so was I.
I didn't think about it until my friend pointed it out to me that it is rare for people to be so direct on such a topic. For some reason, people don't want to praise you for breaking up with someone, even when it's a good move. I guess they feel that you might get angry at them for inserting their opinion unasked, and that it would be rude and unfeeling to say such a thing when you're feeling so badly.
But sometimes, as in this case, it is good to praise someone for the decision they made. That's because we all need that validation, that feeling and knowledge that what we did was wise. As humans we doubt ourselves so much, even when we think we're sure. It's nice for us when someone can allay that doubt even just a bit. And the thing is, we feel better knowing someone else also thinks we made a good choice.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Milia Treatments & Cures
For those who suffer from what they think is milia, little white bumps on their face, or who have been misdiagnosed with syringoma, here are a few of the treatments that people have recommended that have worked for me:
1) Use serums instead of heavy creams, esp. in your most sensitive areas where milia form the most. If you have sensitive skin, heavy creams prevent your skin from exfoliating dead skin cells especially where skin is the thinnest on your face -- around your forehead, under your eyes, and chin.
2) Apply a hot pack: Run a face towel under really hot water, and then apply it to your problem areas. The steam will open up your pores, which allows your skin to exfoliate the trapped dead skin causing the milia.
3) Apply an aspirin mask: These are all the rage now. There are even videos on YouTube on how to do this. But it's really simple. Take a few generic white aspirin tablets (I usually use four), and put some drops of water on them until they start to dissolve into powder. Then get rid of any excess water, and add Cetaphil and milk or honey, and mix. Apply the mixture to your face, let it sit for 15-20 minutes, and then rinse off, and apply moisturizer. Do this about 1-2x a week depending on your skin type, and so your skin doesn't become used to it. The aspirin contains salicylic acid, which we all know, is used to treat acne. And actually, salicylic acid, I found, is one of the few chemicals that can really penetrate deep down into your pores.
These treatments really worked for me. I stopped applying heavy creams to the sensitive parts of my face, and started using serums there only, and found in doing so no new milia formed. That was a great relief to me. Even just using the hot pack, when I only knew about that, really helped to reduce my existing milia. And now that I also use the aspirin mask, I can see and feel a much greater reduction in bumps.
1) Use serums instead of heavy creams, esp. in your most sensitive areas where milia form the most. If you have sensitive skin, heavy creams prevent your skin from exfoliating dead skin cells especially where skin is the thinnest on your face -- around your forehead, under your eyes, and chin.
2) Apply a hot pack: Run a face towel under really hot water, and then apply it to your problem areas. The steam will open up your pores, which allows your skin to exfoliate the trapped dead skin causing the milia.
3) Apply an aspirin mask: These are all the rage now. There are even videos on YouTube on how to do this. But it's really simple. Take a few generic white aspirin tablets (I usually use four), and put some drops of water on them until they start to dissolve into powder. Then get rid of any excess water, and add Cetaphil and milk or honey, and mix. Apply the mixture to your face, let it sit for 15-20 minutes, and then rinse off, and apply moisturizer. Do this about 1-2x a week depending on your skin type, and so your skin doesn't become used to it. The aspirin contains salicylic acid, which we all know, is used to treat acne. And actually, salicylic acid, I found, is one of the few chemicals that can really penetrate deep down into your pores.
These treatments really worked for me. I stopped applying heavy creams to the sensitive parts of my face, and started using serums there only, and found in doing so no new milia formed. That was a great relief to me. Even just using the hot pack, when I only knew about that, really helped to reduce my existing milia. And now that I also use the aspirin mask, I can see and feel a much greater reduction in bumps.
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