The Fault in Our Stars

Last night, I ventured to the movie theatre with a new friend to take in a screening of the film adaptation of John Green's book entitled The Fault in Our Stars.  It was very good.  Apparently the book is better (I haven't read it yet, but isn't the book always better?) but aside from small criticisms playing in my head in the voice of the CinemaSins narrator [see CinemaSins on YouTube] I really did enjoy the movie.  It was sad, it was funny, it was honest, and it inspired thoughts.

Don't you love a movie that inspires thought?  

Oh, ps.  **Spoiler Alert.**

It made me think.  A lot.

Without giving every plot detail away, two teens who have terminal cancer meet and a love story unfolds.  I'm pretty sure that's obvious in the trailer though so I'm still good on that end.  On to the list of things that struck me.

Firstly, the boy, whose name is Augustus Waters, meets the girl, Hazel Something-or-other at a support group for young adults and teens with cancer.  The important part comes in where he asks her name.  She of course says, "Hazel," to which Gus replies, "No, your full name."  It then comes out that her full name is Hazel Grace Something-or-other.  Gus, somehow in his eighteen year old wisdom, knows the importance of a name.  He calls her Hazel Grace the entire movie.  Maybe there's some backstory to this in the book that I'm missing since I haven't read it yet, but I've been thinking about names and this just resonated so much with me.  Our names aren't arbitrary.  They were chosen.  Some with great purpose and meaning, some without, but still chosen carefully and with great consideration.  I believe that names can impact lives.  Maybe not overtly, but obviously whichever star named their daughter Apple (Gwen Stefani, wasn't it?) had something very specific in mind with that choice.  Little Apple will have a different life than Rebecca next door, simply because her name is more unique.  Meanings, ironically, have meaning as well.  My name is Ashleigh Rene Junor.  My spelling is derived from the ash tree itself.  This didn't mean anything until I researched the ash tree.  It is strong, light, and can withstand much force without breaking.  It bends.  I have been through a fair amount of crap in my life... Especially my parents' divorce.  That did a lot of damage to four year old me.  But I did not break.  I learned to bend.  I still refuse to break.  I am the ash tree and it is me.  Rene is the French version of the Roman name Renatus, meaning reborn.  I identify as a Christian who was born again into the faith.  There's lots of things I still struggle with about the church and life questions, but that changes not the meaning of my name.  Maybe this is lunatic asylum worthy, but I believe names are significant.  So in the movie, getting back there, what if Augustus saw something in Hazel Grace that others didn't?  What if, by using her whole name, he acknowledged that special identity every time he spoke to her?  What if we all have something within us that could help be identified by our names and we choose not to see the significance because we think they're just names?  

Secondly, a friend of Augustus' and Hazel's has to give up his eyesight in order to beat his cancer.  Gus had to give up half of his right leg.  This made me consider what I would be willing to sacrifice in order to keep living.  At what point would I say, "No, it's enough, I'm finished,"?  I think I could learn to live with one leg, or even being deaf, but would losing my sight cause me to draw the line?  There is so much beauty in the world.  It pains my heart to even think of not being able to see it.  Of course, one never really knows until faced with the ultimate decision of whether to live or die, as the case is with the friend.  What would you be willing to give up?

This is part one.  

Of Course, I Want Someone

Everybody asks, "Do you have someone?"  And I always reply, "No, I've never had someone."  And they always say, "Oh... Well, do you want someone?"  And I say, "Well, I'm not sure... I'm learning about myself a lot right now."  And their eyes, they glaze over with confusion, and their faces have this but you want someone, don't you? expression on them.  And, well, the answer is yes.

Of course I want someone.  I think everyone wants someone.  But me, I'm special.  I refuse to give myself to just anyone.  My someone has got to be a someone I can surely see myself with in the long run, because I am not up for one night stands or the 'we're just not working out' after only a month bit.  You see, if I have someone, I'm considering them.  For the long run.  For marriage.  So that someone better really be someone.

To be that someone, certain criteria will have to be met.  A job, a resemblance of a plan for your life... good with kids is a strong point.  Because if I find a someone, I'd like to try for a few of them.  Another important, no, IMPORTANT, thing is the ability to communicate.  If you're my someone, you'd better be prepared for some serious talks and maybe fights and definitely make-ups, because I won't just walk away and say you should've known, should've treated me better.  Love doesn't work that way.  

I also need a someone who is strong.  Emotionally and physically.  It's okay if you have low points, you're human... What I need is for you to recognize when I'm having mine, because I've learned not to show them.  I'm guarded so I can be a someone for other people... And it'll take a long time for me to trust you with who I am.  Please, be ready, and don't give up.  Ask.  Better yet, don't ask, and hug.  If I cry you'll know.  Also, please be ready to decide where we're going to have lunch some days.  I don't want to pick all the time.

If you're my someone, I hope you enjoy traveling, or at least can get behind me in my desire (read: need) to travel.  Culture is fascinating, language is enrapturing, and adventure is waiting.  My whole career plan is based on seeing the world, and changing it for the better.  I want to make sure that people who need things get them, and I want to see those people and places face to face.  Equality, freedom.  They aren't just words... They're ideas, they're handholds and footholds to new levels in world ideology.  My someone will need to be at minimum supportive... But if you're an adventure junkie and can budget with me so we can go on trips together, consider yourself one step closer to being that someone who was meant for me.

The last vital piece for my someone is shared ideas.  I'm religious, and it won't change.  My God was here long before you were.  But maybe you aren't.  That's not a bad thing.  But if you can't accept that I am, and be willing to give my beliefs equal credence to yours, you are not my someone.  That belief also affects how I see me, and how I see you.  I do hope and pray that we can share beliefs, since then this whole lifestyle would be a non-issue.  Chances are likely that if they don't, you probably aren't my someone... It would be extremely hard to live peacefully together and raise kids with two differing ideologies, wouldn't it?

My ideal someone is a person who understands that a kiss isn't just a kiss to me - it's a token of affection, of worth, of importance.  You don't walk around just kissing whoever you feel like kissing (if you do, you're not my someone!)... We all know it carries significance.  To me, it means that you believe what I believe about me = that I am precious, worth protecting and fighting for.  That I mean something to you that others do not.  If you don't share this belief, please, just don't bother even discussing kissing (if you're unaware of what I believe, you may ask for clarification purposes) but for heaven's sake, don't just kiss me willy nilly because that's what you saw in the movies.  I'd rather watch people kiss alone for the rest of eternity than be kissed and find out later it was just for fun, or something equivalent.  I know, I'm weird.  Old fashioned even.  Oh well.  It gets worse.  I will not have sex with you unless you put a ring on it.  I believe I am worth more than flings, casual or not... If you want that, you need to show me that you believe I am and will be your someone until death do us part.  

See, my someone, if they come, will be a very special person.  And yes, sometimes I'm lonely.  And yes, maybe my ideals are too high and narrow.  But I've tried to change them before, to make myself just accept more of society's norms so I don't get those weird, confused stares.  I can't.  And really, I'm not sorry about it.  I love too hard to be let down who thinks it's okay to disrespect others, or refuses to talk about the issues.  Because if you're my someone, and I love you, I will love you for the rest of my life, heartbroken or not.  I will do my best to make you understand how much and why I love you. I really don't want to be heartbroken.  I don't want to waste so much time and effort on a someone who won't understand.  But I also won't give up on me.  I will never be able to completely drop everything I want in life.  I'm a dreamer.  Without dreams, I'll be miserable.  

If you genuinely think you're my someone, spend time getting to know me.  Lots of it.  Then ask.  I will probably say no.  To be honest, I'm afraid that someone will not understand and therefore never come.  But make me love you, if you can.  Don't ask lots, but don't give up, either.  The day I decide to trust you with everything may very well be the day I decide to say yes.

My someone should also be aware of and accept that I believe in faeries.  Mutual belief is not necessary, but would be gladly welcomed.

http://www.upworthy.com/ever-considered-what-guys-look-for-in-girls-forget-it-think-about-what-a-17-year-old-says-instead

Pretty Darn Happy :D

I was just getting cozy in my bed tonight to go to sleep, and I suddenly had a wave of appreciation for some things in my life.  A lot of people say I'm easily amused and/or pleased, but I think the more you are able to enjoy the small, every day things in life, the happier you'll be!  So with that said here is a list of things that genuinely make me happy and I want to be grateful for in writing:

1.  My duvet

A very simple thing, yes, but I just love it.  A gift from my dad and his girlfriend for Christmas 2012, the design is gorgeous (city names!) but even beyond that it's comfortable - so comfortable - and warm, but without being heavy, and squishy, but not poofy.  It really just makes my bed, a thing I already love, one hundred times better.

2. The Shaytards

Some people think I'm ridiculous for watching and loving someone's family as much as I do, but I can't help it.  I don't watch television, but I'm calling out all the Harry Potter, Hunger Tames, Dr. Who, Amazing Race, and ER superfans I've ever met... Why aren't they weird?  The Shaytards are fun, funny, and all they're trying to do is bring joy to people's lives.  Give them a real chance.  If you still don't like them, that's fine... I don't like all your shows either.  But let's be respectful of each other's opinions.  Shay and his family add something to my life.  Don't judge it.

3.  Cold water

Even the fact that there is drinkable water flowing from my tap and I have a freezer containing ice cubes... I love the feeling of being hydrated and there are some days when absolutely nothing tastes as good as that icy cold liquid.

4. Soft music

Again, not mainstream popular.  I always get something along the lines of "How can you listen to this? I'm falling asleep!"  This music, especially when matched with an activity like crocheting or puzzling, really serves to relax and ground me.  That is my down time.  Don't mess with it.  It's keeping me sane.

5.  Hugging.

ESPECIALLY if they are long and/or tight hugs from someone I really love.  I've hinted to some, straight out told others, but I crave meaningful human touch.  There's a name for my people... We're called cuddlewhores.  Weird, inappropriate, but true - we... I... need it.  It's our love language, my love language.  While the levels of trust, of course, range according to how familiar we are with the other person, hugs are usually a more rewarding (and still usually socially acceptable) way of getting that touch from most people.  Please, if you're comfortable with it, hug me.  I won't initiate it unless you've somehow communicated that it's okay, so do let me know... It makes me feel important and valuable and happy.  The more the merrier.

6.  Good children's movies

Mr. Bagorium's Wonder Emporium.  The Lion King.  Frozen.  The Croods.  The Tinkerbell movies.  Children's films (and some cartoons!) are only getting better.  I love being able to just sit and enjoy being in a child's world again for an hour and a half and letting my imagination and love of musicals get their fill.  Do me a favor and don't bash the movie afterward for no plot or character development.  If I wanted that, I would've watched something different.  I came for the simple jokes and thrills of being a child, but appreciating it so much more because I'm an adult too and I know what I didn't realize I had back then.

That's about it for now.  But I had to write them down because I'm just feeling super satisfied with life at the moment and it's good to remember when you're thankful and happy, and to record it somewhere to review when you're sad.  So there you go, self... Don't forget!

Failure.

I did something today I've never done before.  I walked out of class without doing the test I was supposed to have written.  It will mean I will fail.  However, in so many ways I'm okay with it now.  Failing this course has taught me more than the course itself.  Because of it...

I learned it's okay to admit you're failing.

Not everyone is good at everything.  Although I understood this before, I have realized I never applied it to me.  There are things I can't do as well as others, and then there are things I really struggle with.  Failing doesn't mean you're a bad person or that you will never accomplish your dreams.  It doesn't even mean you won't finish the task or goal you started.  All it means is that you're gonna have to try a little harder.

I learned that you constantly need to evaluate yourself and your progress.

When I started economics, the first lecture was easy and interesting.  The next was a little more difficult but I could still do the homework without fully understanding the material.  By the time I realized how far behind I actually was, it was not without consequence.  If I had been honest with myself about how much I really knew, things would have been better.

Sometimes, you just have to put extra work in.

My professor, bless his heart, is very intelligent.  He's also stronger in mathematics than myself, and is Bangladeshi.  This means that his mathematical thought process is both faster than mine, and occasionally difficult to understand.  

For me, this meant I rarely got anything out of lecture.  Between trying to decipher his speech, watch his examples, and take the notes, I often found myself hopelessly confused and frustrated.  Later on in the course I stopped trying to follow him and just told myself I'd read the book, which I did understand.

I did read some of the book, but not all of it.  Also, some things needed to be read more than once for me to grasp the concept.  I found it all very boring, but through failing I have come to appreciate the delayed benefit of tedious, hard work.  Failing doesn't feel very good.  I know now that I have to be able to motivate myself better, and this will be a good reminder as to why.

Once in awhile, things actually do create more stress than they're worth.

Yes, I could have put more effort in.  Yes, I could've, should've, would've... Done this, done that... Hindsight, right?  But I didn't, and what I did do wasn't enough.  When I hit the floor last night in frustrated, bored agony because I didn't understand what I was trying to study for today, I realized that sometimes, some things are just not worth it.  I was sitting at 50.5% before today's test, which is worth 10% of my total mark.  For the amount of time studying and stress it continued to cause, trying to save myself was just not in the cards anymore.  On that note...

It's okay to try again.

Sometimes it just doesn't work out.  Despite your best efforts, or lack thereof, the ball drops.  You fail. But it happens to everyone.  Hundreds of people experience failure every day.  You will live through it and it is okay to try again!  Failure doesn't mean you can't.  It just means you didn't this time.

You have to forgive yourself and move on.

Last night, I was very disappointed in myself.  For not realizing sooner that I wasn't getting it, for not doing as much reading as I should have, for a hundred different small things.  I felt guilty for wanting to quit, for wasting the time and money on the course when - if I just studied realllllllly hard all night - I might pass.  

But I don't want to just pass.  I want to succeed.  I want to be proud of myself and cramming for a 53% isn't what I want.  I also didn't want the extreme moodiness, exhaustion, and sickness that comes the next day with a stressful all nighter.  So I chose to try again.  I left that homework and study material on the corner of the bed and moved on to other things that needed doing for other courses in which I was still earning good marks. I had to stop feeling guilty for prioritizing, which is what I was actually doing.  

So I did.  I let it all go and I quit.  I forgave myself for being stupid this time around and promised myself I'd do better next time.  Forgiveness is not an excuse to repeat the mistake you've made, but rather an allowance of grace to attempt again.  Don't forget that.

Lastly, I learned that even though it's still hard, I can learn math.

This course was difficult for me, even when I did understand the material.  But there was some that I understood!  Math and math related subjects (ie economics) have always been the most difficult subject matter for my art and writing wired brain.  This course proved to me something I never believed:  I can learn math.  I can do math.  So maybe it takes a little longer and a lot more effort... I am never telling myself I suck at math again, because I don't.  

Math is a challenge, and it's now a challenge I believe I can overcome with the right mix of effort and motivation.  This is a huge confidence boost for me.

So, really...

Yes, I failed.  No, I probably didn't have to.  I will try again.  And I'm actually okay with it.  I know this experience will guide and shape my failures in the future, of which there are bound to be some.  As long as I know that it doesn't shape me, I'm ready to keep trying till I succeed.  For that, I'm grateful for economics.

Nobody Reads These Anymore.

I'm having an epiphany.  I'm in a stage, a season, a whatever you feel like calling it, but a time of change.  Or maybe, an end to a time of change.  I'm not really sure.  I'll have to think about it.

What I am sure of, though, is that in some ways I feel like I'm losing myself.  The last year has been a time of trying a lot of new things, challenging myself, and bursting my bubble, pushing my limits... Is there another conventional way to say that?  I don't know.  Oh well.  Anyways, I am, and have been, and will keep doing so, but maybe differently or less.

I've really learned the benefits to change and to challenge, and whereas I was afraid of them before and felt safer in familiarity, I'm proud to say that although sometimes nerves still show up, they never get the best of me any more.  I'm not afraid to try or to find the answer to the question of 'what if'?  It's been great.  It really has.  But I've also realized that the familiarity that I tried to leave behind wasn't just routine or appearances.  Those can stay behind, I don't need them again.  What I do need that I have to find somewhere along the past's dusty roads is the parts of what keep me satisfied within my... Creative headspace, for lack of a better word, or term.  

Before, I needed to fill the part of me that longed to be free of fear and try adventure, change up the perspective in life to see what became of me.  And I did, and I'm happy.  But the part that was comfortable, that lived in a shell surrounded by introverted exploits like books and puzzles has been ignored, and now I'm hungry for that again.  I find it comforting in a way that nothing else can be, and therefore an important part of my personality.

I used to be a voracious reader, especially of classical romance or children's literature.  It just gets me, right there, and... Oh, how do I explain it... You know how when you read a book, sometimes you know you're just reading and it holds very little meaning or influence over you?  Other times, when you're reading a really good book with developed characters and setting and you can empathize to the extent where you feel like you're in the story... Those are the good ones.  I like to live in a dreamworld of fairies, magical forests, gloomy moors, and giant English stone manor houses with upper class ladies and different spoons for dessert.  Where there is a different, measurable quality, and you feel with the character and somehow when they struggle, you do as well, and likewise when they triumph you've also overcome and accomplished something significant.  You can take life lessons from these people, cry with them, laugh with the, and learn from them because they're not just stories.  They're literature.

Hopefully that makes sense.  I just finished the first half of Jane Eyre and I remembered why I love reading, and how fulfilling it is.  It also makes me think of other important things I gain satisfaction from that I haven't done in so long, like writing.  I often feel like people don't know the real me, which is what this post was supposed to be about but I guess I wasn't meant to go there, so maybe it will have to wait.  Maybe I'll write it after, but for now, this is what you get.  Sometimes I write these for an audience, but sometimes I write them for me, because I know I'll come back some day and read them and I want to know how I felt.  When I'm forty and my kids are teenagers and going through personal identity crises, I want them to know I struggled with that at times too, and maybe going back to activities they've been neglecting, but that make them happy, might be part of the answer.  I don't know.  There's a lot I don't know.  What I do know is that after having read half of that book, I feel much more satisfied in an area that was feeling empty three hours ago.  Pick up a book, kids.  Maybe it will change your life... Some have changed mine.

I'm A Jerk.

So.  My mother has told me twice in the last week and a half that I am not a compassionate person.  Upon further thought and review, I have to agree.  There's some conditions attached, but I have a very difficult time feeling sorry for someone.  Anyone.  

See, I'm all about the moving forward version of life.  Everyone's seen some version of the "Lord, give me strength to change what I can and wisdom to accept what I cannot" mantra.  I have been highly influenced by people and statements aligning to that view of life and therefore, if someone has an issue or problem, I'm not the one you should go to in order to have a good cry.  Because if it's a problem that can't be solved, I'll tell you to walk away.  If there's any hope, I will go through the options to solve it with you.  That's just how I work.

Now, that isn't true for every single thing that comes my way.  Friends who lose a beloved pet, have a family member pass, break up with a significant other... I can empathize with those people and the is a grace period for grief.  But even with them, after a few weeks if they haven't started working on the healing process and keep sitting in self pity I get frustrated.  I've always been good at pointing out what's wrong with a given situation; in years of late, I've become good at producing ideas for solutions.  If people don't want solutions, and just want to be sad but still talk to someone, I just don't understand.  Sometimes I want to be sad, but from my understanding of talking to people, you do it to get your feelings out.  Organized, put together, begin the feeling better.  If you want to mope, why would you talk to someone?  At least, that's how I feel.  If you're going to talk to me, provided there was no major calamity, you're going to get suggestions for changing your situation, solving your problem, or simply accepting life the way it is if you aren't willing to change.  

I deal with a lot of things internally, so I guess I expect others to as well.  But after my mom's calling me out on the lack of empathy and compassion, I'm realizing that I do look like a jerk.  Which, to be completely honest, doesn't bother me too much.  Maybe, though, it bothers other people.  So I'm thinking I should start practicing being nicer.  Listening without suggesting even if I don't see the point of it.  Maybe other people need that sort of thing more than I do.  So I'm gonna try and see where it goes.  Maybe I'll look like a jerk my whole life.  Let's hope not... Here's to practice. 

If I Die Young...

-
If I die young
Bury me in satin.
Lay me down
On a bed of roses.
Sink me in the river, at dawn.
Send me away with the
Words of a love song.

~ The Band Perry
-

Mortality is a fact of life. Some people think about it. Some don't. I do.

In our petty North American culture of speak-your-mind-without-offending-people-or-pushing-your-belief-system-or-generally-disturbing-the-facade-of-peaceful-rich-white-life that we spend millions of dollars and thousands of hours trying to keep strong, subjects like death and sex have no room to be anything but scary topics banished to the broom closet only to be dragged out at 'appropriate' times like premarital counseling and writing of wills. In other cultures (thinking Europe here), they take on an entirely different connotation and people *gasp* ACTUALLY TALK ABOUT THEM.

Several unfortunate and sad recent events have, however, brought the fragility of life to the forefront of public discussion. It is becoming apparent to everyone that your perfectly scripted and manicured existence can be irrevocably shattered in an instant, and sometimes there is nothing you can do but stare death in the face. Do we know how to handle it? Do YOU know how to handle it? I really don't think most of us are ready to face that reality ahead of time... I also think 'ahead of time' is the best time to be ready.

Confession time: I have, for the past (almost) decade, believed...and still do... that I will die young. Of course that term is relative, so let's say before I'm forty. There is no particular reason, although there are contributing factors - namely that I have diabetes (which I will admit that I often manage much more poorly than I should... But that's another story. Message me) and also that I am pursuing a career that will quite likely take me to places where I will become a target of unnamed groups with guns and keys to the local impoverished, torturous jail. Mostly though, it's just a gut feeling.

I'm not bothered by the fact that I'll die. Everyone does, and I'd rather die early fighting for justice and showing love to troubled people than in my eighties or nineties never having lived the life I dream about now. Ever since I can remember, even before choosing journalism as a career, I decided I wanted to die saving someone else's life. I have watched hundreds of crime fighting shows and action movies imagining myself jumping in front of the bullet or pushing the character out of the way just as the car hits me. Maybe that's weird, but if the opportunity ever arose where it was my life against someone else's, I'd rather die for them and by imagining it I figured I wouldn't feel afraid when the time came.

What does bother me are the people I know who I (metaphorically speaking, of course) would miss. You always hear about people who lived wishing they could've spoken to the person who passed just one more time, said that one more thing... What if we reverse it? What if the person dying never got the chance to say everything they needed or wanted to say before their life ended? Terminal patients talk about this often, but I'm thinking more along the lines of a drive by shooting or a car accident. Or even if you, or someone you love, just relocates or circumstances change and you don't get to tell them how much they meant to you. What then?

My dilemma.

Especially in the wake of the shootings and the bombing in the States over the past year... I've made the decision to take every chance I have to let people know I love them and why I do. Because things happen, and if my gut feelings are true and I do die 'before my time' I want those people to know beyond a shadow of a doubt how I feel about them. Why is that a dilemma? I know you're asking. In itself, it is not; the dilemma is how much is too much? One text a week saying I love you? A Facebook message after a month or two telling you how amazing you are and that I'm proud of you and proud to be your friend? If you're going through a rough time, is a daily reminder of why you're a blessing going to get annoying? What about a letter once or twice a year detailing what you mean to me and why?

I have done all of these. Some were well received, others weren't. Some have no reply, even months after I pressed the Send button. Other people... and these are the ones I'm most worried about... Seem to appreciate them less and less over time. I try not to get overwhelming or annoying, but there are just times where I feel really strongly that I need to let my loved ones know that I love them; to confirm that they matter in case something happens to me or the relationship, in case it's Game Over and I don't get another turn. Maybe it's because I need to be validated in my friendships and by validating others I hope to get it in return. Maybe it's because I believe I won't last. Maybe it's something else entirely that drives this message madness... Maybe it's a combination of all of those.

Maybe it's good, maybe it's bad... but I'm done with maybes. So if you're out there and I annoy you, I'm sorry... and I'm not sorry. You see, I'd rather err on the side of you knowing then for me to walk out the door tomorrow and tragically die, not having told you how much I love you.

Lying to Myself

When you're tired is never a good time to think, and probably not to write. Unfortunately, I'm now doing both.

What I'm writing about is what I'm thinking about, and what I'm thinking about is how powerful lies are. You may not believe in God and Satan, but I do, and that devil sure knows how to throw a good punch in when I'm alone.

It's a reoccurring thought to me, this lie that I'm finding very difficult to fight against... It's hard to put into one sentence, but in a nutshell, I often doubt my own likability and whether people actually enjoy having me around or if they just tolerate it because they're being polite... Or maybe worse, because I can do something for them.

I don't think they'd intentionally use me, but that's a big section of this reoccurring thought, and it has a lot to do with my relationships with most males.

You see, it goes like this. I'll have a friend. Friend posts sad status. I write friend. We start talking. I help friend fix problem/listen to friend. They feel happier. We slowly stop talking. Aaannnd. Repeat cycle.

Or like this week, where it happened twice in two days... People say things that aren't actually hurtful, but cause me to think that I'm just not the kind of person that is destined to make new friends and although I'll never be an outcast (I won't let myself) I'll never really fit in. I just feel so awkward.

A good example is in class at college. Teacher asks for interaction, so I interact. I want to learn, to hash out ideas, to receive feedback. Especially since nobody else volunteers much. But if I respond to every question, does that make me stand out as some kind of teacher's pet or a crazy keener? My problem isn't that I'm unaware of social stigmas. It's that I don't know where I stand within them, and I feel like it puts a huge barrier between me and other students I'd like to get to know; simply because I don't know if they like me, hate me, don't care, tolerate me because they have to... It's all behind a facade, a polite "I'm an adult and I'll treat you nicely because that's what I'm supposed to do" mask. It frightens me.

It's not just with strangers or new acquaintances either. As with the friend example on Facebook earlier, I more and more often find myself wondering how many people I thought liked me really only tolerate my existence because a) it's required, b) they can get something from me, or c) because I want to be friends with them.

It's not like I don't believe I have any friends. There is a core group of about ten, mostly from church or school and going years back, that I know truly enjoy my companionship, and I theirs. Even amongst those, however, the little lie that I'm too weird finds a hold. Those days when I want to imagine fairies because they are more fun and intriguing than real life, or when I laugh at stupid things like paper clips, or talk about something like dogs for hours and bring in facts that nobody cares about, let alone knows.

I've always revered Anne Shirley of Green Gables for her optimistic view of life and inclusion of a dreamworld of fairies and wood spirits, where sunbeams are always dancing and the ocean sings an alluring song. I've tried to model my life after hers, keeping the magic of childhood imagination alive and not caring what people think... But I've found that caring about others' opinions of me has slowly taken a stronger and stronger hold.

So now I worry about whether I will have to grow out of a world of fantasy, where telling stories, and being open about life and its pain and mystery, because it's childish and weird. I worry that I'll always be the person people ask for advice because I'm good at it (which I think is because I can imagine and empathize!) but that I'll never be the one to pursue; you can talk to a dreamer of fantasy, but trying to build a relationship on an understanding of dream's dreams isn't an option.

I don't know if I've made my dilemma understandable or not. Suffice to say that I don't feel normal, and I doubt I will ever begin to understand what is normal and when I've crossed the line. In turn that means that I'm constantly weirding people out or making them uncomfortable, and wondering what kind of person I am. Which makes me feel like I can't trust that my friends actually like me (even the good ones, sometimes).

Which makes me feel alone.

But I know I'm not alone. Even if some of that ramble is true for some people, not all of it can be true for everybody. And I do have friends that have stuck with me for years and years and still call when they haven't heard from me in awhile. In my head, that counts for something. It means that I am loved, and missed, and they wouldn't call if they didn't care, right? Right.

But just as that's all settled and decided, the little thought comes - "but what if he's just there to see your sister?" "What if she said yes because you said you'd do most of the work, and for free?" "What if she doesn't actually like you?" Finally, inevitably, it leads to the question of whether or not I'm even likable, and this battle in my head between my brain and my heart begins again.

But I do believe I'm important. I do believe that people like me - that someday, someone will like me enough to kiss me and ask me to be his wife. That someday I'll figure out who I am and where I belong in the scheme of people's attitudes.

Don't bother writing nice comments about how I'm lovely and this is all ridiculous... Everyone does it all the time after someone posts something like this. But I'm not looking for that. To tell you the truth, I wouldn't believe it because that's what you're supposed to say. I just want people to understand, I guess... And I wanted to leave my thoughts in another place because in my head they're interrupting what could've been an hour of sleep by now.

I promise though, to you and to me, that someday, I'll stop allowing myself to lie to myself.

Dithering

Is a word. A word that very adequately describes my feelings about the world and its general population at present. I am so fed up with so much of our nice North American daily life, our 'highly idealistic' (to much of the world, anyway), boring, introverted, just take the money and run lifestyle.

It's not that I feel I'm superior, or even that I really dislike what we have. It's amazing that we are so blessed as to even be able to THINK the way we do, where Starbucks has become the cornerstone to millions of people's days, but sometimes I wish we were different.

I think that our great wealth and influence has poisoned us a population. After all, we're 'tripping' North Americans, white supremacists, power hungry, money collectors, drug cartels; you name it, it's in town if not right in the backyard, and of course it comes with a little of that homegrown swag rich kids are so fond of.

So much of what our society values is beyond useless. They are absorbed in a culture and attitude of pleasure by right, and we are passing it onto the entire world because we're at the top. Even now, I'm writing this from an iPad. I too am guilty of buying into this global phenomenon called, to put it simply, Stuff.

But Stuff is very broad and inconclusive; too generalized to be of use. So I will define it as it pertains to my world. Stuff can include, but is not limited to, property, physical attributes, relationships, social adeptness, self worth, communication... I could go on.

What bothers me about Stuff is the profound lack of substance bequeathed to different subjects. Clothing is required as part of our system of respect, and it helps if it's well tailored, but the emphasis is put on nothing more than sexual draw. Every model out there over five years old embodies (or attempts to embody) that hard-sought-after idea of 'cool, smooth, sexy' because the majority of the population has learned that appearance is utmost, and it has nothing to do with your professionalism or style. All that matters is that you show off the right form in the right places.

That is an overused example, but one that everyone relates to - as, sadly, it still rings true in a goodly proportion of cultures around the planet.

This concept has bothered me much in years of late, but never so much as in recent months as I learn more about the social networking site Twitter.

I have a Twitter account, which I use moderately and enjoy. There are aspects that are incongruent with Facebook that appeal to myself and to many others. A friend stated it as such: "Facebook is more about responding. Twitter is simply about sharing information." I like that.

On my Twitter, I've followed a few celebrities I'm interested in from favorite television shows, music and movies. Many post little thoughts and photos here and there and I enjoy seeing a bit of their real world instead of what media portrays. However, there is a concurrence among popular Tweeters (not just celebs, either) that it is okay to bribe fans for followers for other accounts. A common example would run something like this:

(Celebrity Name)
I will follow the next 300 people who follow (Comedy Twitter)

(Comedy Twitter)
If you're not following ________ then delete your twitter; it's not worth having.

Sometimes, the celebrity makes good on the bribe and follows those who let them know they followed so and so.

A personal example concerns Taylor Lautner and a girl named Daena in Texas. I followed Taylor because I appreciate his acting ability and laid back character in interviews. He posted a status asking people to follow Daena's account because she wanted to reach 100 followers.

Now, Daena asks the same thing for other people, and promises to DM (direct message, private between two tweeters) the names of those who follow the other person to Taylor.

Another thing that bothers me about twitter is something called fangirling. If you don't know what that is, find a video online of any celeb walking down an average street. They are ganged up on by screaming adolescent and pre-pubescent females begging for pictures and hugs. That is the craziness now known as fangirling, and tweeters are professionals. Especially if it involves the new artist group One Direction.

Every day there are 'trending topics'; things people are currently tweeting most about. And every day, there is something involving 1D.

My point is not to hate on the new boy band, but to point out the frivolousness of fangirling. Chances are VERY huh you won't meet them, let alone date or marry them. An interest is fine, but why waste hours of daylight and detain needed sleep gazing at pictures?

On the same note, why is it SO important to have thousands of followers? Is it enough to justify online bribery and on occasion, bullying, just to see the number rise by a few hundred?

We have lost that which made our society great - the art of communication. We know how to type and can adeptly lessen an Internet insult by adding a cute :P face to the end of a statement. Come face to face with another person, and there's nothing to talk about, and sticking your tongue out is inappropriate.

We have also lost the desire to gain wisdom and knowledge. Our attitude is very much that of the observant at most street beggar who relies on public nicety to get him through the day.

I get so angry when I see young girls speaking about parties, relationships as if they are the only things that matter. Even issues like gender equality have emerged as meaningless because it's 'cool' to support homo and heterosexuals having the same opportunities; if you asked the average 14-25 year old about their reasons for support, perhaps one in ten could give a decent answer.

I'm bored, I'm frustrated, and I simply cannot handle the apathy of our society any longer. Their practice of dithering their way through life, focusing on the superficial, is the most annoying thing I have ever come across.

At the same time, as much as I'd like to avoid the human race forever and bury my nose in books of learning, I get lonely. As a result, I haven't yet found an adequate solution to my problem and the annoyance lives on.

The Inconvenience of Convenience

[Note: I meant to write this weeks ago, but thought it wasn't "big" enough... but it's still festering in my mind and someone mentioned I hadn't written in a while so I decided short or not, I'm posting. Hope you like.]

Anyways, let's get to it. I walked into one of our locations on campus at work a few weeks ago to deliver something, and noticed a new sign:

"The deli will close at 8pm tonight. Sorry for any inconvenience."

... and the proverbial bomb went off. Are we so helpless?

You see, what struck me was knowledge that yes, some students WOULD be disconcerted, even upset, that this one section of the store closed early (salad bar, grill, snack sections etc. were still open) and our management would probably be getting a letter or two from some kid too stubborn to simply pick something else that day. I was angered, and I do not believe it was unjustly.

My thoughts traveled to a conversation I had with my dad and his girlfriend when they were here last, about the technological move to online forms of communication. Their position was, and quite correctly, that kids, teens, and even adults are losing their ability to facilitate a face-to-face conversation. Because of constant use of texting, social networking sites, and other similar communication modalities, when two people (especially young people) find themselves in the physical presence of another person, they find themselves actually at a loss for words.

This is a problem. It derives from that phenomenon we call convenience. I mean, that is why we do it, isn't it? I'm sure it isn't because we intentionally don't want to know how to deal with our fellow humans when we can't just rudely walk away from the screen and ignore their anger (portrayed by CAPITAL LETTERS of course - easy to ignore!) No, that isn't the reason.

We do it because it's fast. It's cheap. It takes two seconds to text ten people; calling those ten to repeat the same information ten times would take twenty minutes, and what if they don't answer? A text can and will wait in a person's memory until they actually receive and read it... A phone call can't do that as efficiently.

And so goes the argument. There are thousands of valid reasons that wireless communication has gained the standing it has, and whether people realize it or not, it does affect everyone. I am going to England because of Facebook. I will be staying in touch through FaceTime, Skype, Twitter, Facebook, email, texting... you get the idea. I bought my airline tickets and travel insurance online. It all has its uses, and as we advance in the idea of a global village, it is becoming more and more important that we understand those uses and how they affect us and our families.

However, my parents' fears - and many others' fears - are not ungrounded. All of these technologies are driven by one idea - convenience.

So how long will it be before our children don't learn to write because it's more convenient for them to type? Before teachers teach from the comfort of their homes through video conferencing? Let's get really far fetched and ask ourselves how many years till we start ordering eggs and semen online from potential partners because it's too inconvenient to even have sex for procreation?

A good many years - or never - we hope... But reality may prove otherwise. So what can we do to slow, or stop, this solitary, computer-based culture from developing? Or, should we even try?

Fifty years ago, society knew much better than it does today what it means to work for reward - financial, relational, pleasurable, or otherwise. They knew how to communicate with their brethren because they had to. In this age, we don't "have to" - it's too easy and convenient to ignore responsibility towards both yourself and others. We are more impatient, harder to please, increasingly lazy. This thing, convenience, has changed the face of the world as we once knew it.

But how far is too far - and when do we know?

Fireflies' Dreams.

There is a song by the country singer Faith Hill entitled, "Fireflies".  It's about the innocence of a child's dreams, and how as we grow we often lose that ability to look beyond the limits of reality, to imagine the impossible and maybe, even make it happen.  (Listen to it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TnRPzpA4VCA)

Every little girl knows what a princess is, and aspires to be one.  Granted, some want to be like Cinderella, dressed in beautiful gowns and crowns and giving tea parties and dances.  Others, such as myself, take more to figures like Princess Zelda from the popular Nintendo games series.  She has the dress, but she is also very prone to jump into monster-slashing battles alongside the game hero Link.  Best of both worlds. 

Whatever she likes doesn't matter.  What matters are two very important ideas:  the first idea being that she is both beautiful and valuable as she is (another huge topic for a different blog), and the second idea being that she can dream. 

dream (drm) n.

1. A series of images, ideas, emotions, and sensations occurring involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep.

2. A daydream; a reverie.

3. A state of abstraction; a trance.

4. A wild fancy or hope.


5. A condition or achievement that is longed for; an aspiration: a dream of owning their own business.


6. One that is exceptionally gratifying, excellent, or beautiful
 
[Emphasis added]

Take a close look at the last three definitions, the ones I've italicized.  To put that all into one feasible idea, a dream can be broken down into parts:

> Wild, Fancy - something so big it would never happen in one's regular day-to-day life
> An Aspiration, Achievement - a goal, something that can worked towards> Gratifying, Beautiful - something so lovely and enjoyable it couldn't be forgotten

In one sentence, a dream is something that you normally wouldn't experience, but would never never forget if it was to happen, and it something you can earn.

That, however, is an adult's way of looking at it.  A child simply says, "I wish I had a pony."  She imagines the pony in her yard, where she could pet it and groom it and ride it, where her and the pony would be best friends and spend each day together in each other's company.  An adult making the same wish says, "I would love to have a horse.  I wish that I could have money to buy it, a place to keep it, time to ride and take care of it, and the knowledge to train it."

We have been corrupted by our own adulthood.  No longer are we able to just dream; all our dreams are accompanied by limitations.

Not to say that you can just have a horse.  The adult is right in forseeing the responsibilities that would come with ownership.  But the dream itself, the idea and longing, should still reign free, unfettered by the world-weary harness of responsibility.

When I was younger, I watched shows like the Lion King and Kratts' Creatures.  I dreamed of what it would be like to be in a lion's natural habitat, to see a warthog in a mud hole, to gaze upon herds of gazelles and zebras as they paraded across the savannah.  I knew, because of school, that they lived on the other side of the world.  I had an idea that it would take a very long time and a lot of money to ever get there on a plane or ship.  But I never connected that with the possibility that I could go.  Little me, in Kelowna, never expected to somehow wind up beside a majestic lion on the other side of the planet.  I didn't understand that I could just pay for a plane ride, but I never gave up on dreaming.  As Cinderella says in her little song, "A dream is a wish your heart makes."

When I was young, Africa to me seemed impossible.  I had a heart wish to see it, but what could a girl do?  Turns out, anything I want.  Because dreams don't have to stay dreams forever.  Either you lose them, or you use them.  I used my dream.  Two years ago, I spent six hours in a van watching lions and giraffes in the Masai Mara National Reserve in Kenya, Africa. 

Right now, I'm making another childhood dream come true.  I've always wanted to explore castles, and forever been fascinated with kings, queens, and the history, adventure, and romance in the tales of Robin Hood and King Arthur with his Knights of the Round Table.  I thought, years ago, that because these things were hundreds of years old, they were gone.  In a sense, that is true - the culture of royal courts and the excitement of swords and bows that attract us in those stories are things of the past.  But the castles and the people (although long dead) were and are still real, and many do exist even today.  And I'm going to see them.

I've been looking for and praying about an opportunity to visit the UK, more specifically Ireland and Scotland, for over a year.  I looked into a few different things that didn't really fit into my budget and time allowances, but I never stopped dreaming.  A few months ago now, I contacted a pastor in England asking for advice on who I could contact about potentially volunteering with a church or organization somewhere in the UK, and lo and behold, his own church can and I'm now staying with him and his wife for six weeks.  I'm also traveling to cities in Scotland, Ireland, Wales, and possibly France.

And even though I'm now an adult, and understand that I have to pay a whackload of money to go, and find places to stay, transportation, food, etc... even though I have to be "responsible" for every aspect of this trip, sometimes I just stop myself for a minute.  Thinking about all of that, and trying to plan a two month excursion for myself, by myself, gets stressful, even with the excitement and anticipation.  When I have the numbers and prices from thirteen different train stations listed in comparison to a Britrail pass and bus schedules for Dublin and it's all running around in circles in my brain, I stop.  Find a picture of one of the castles I plan to visit.  Close my eyes, forget temporarily about all the prices and options, and just imagine myself standing within the walls of a structure that's 700 years old and was visited by the royal families of three or four countries.  I just see myself inside the walls of the White Tower, or looking at the final resting place of King Henry VIII, and I know that no matter how much stress, worry, excitement, or anticipation courses through my head, I will always have that ability to go back to the simplistic dream of my childhood to 'see a real castle' - and to know that my dream, through my own planning and hard work, is coming true.

Two things I have learned through this process...

1)  God's timing and prayer never fail you.  I know now that had I been accepted into the YWAM program or a nannying position, I wouldn't have been satisfied.  All I wanted out of those was to travel; I was looking in the wrong place for the wrong reasons.  This opportunity provides exactly what I was looking for: the ability to travel and see lots of places and faces, but also to stay as part of a family and really experience the culture through eyes free of "tourist" glasses.  All things are possible through God if we wait patiently for Him to provide us with the reality of the vision, and remember that it doesn't - and usually, won't - come in the way we expect.
2)  Never stop dreaming.  As soon as you give up your heart's desires - however far they may seem now - you lose much of your reason to live.  The person who has nothing to dream about and aspire to has no reason to get up in the morning, outside of their personal responsibilities to family, work, the church, or anything else they've committed to.  However, the folks who get up every day because they 'have to' burn out more easily and faster than one would think possible.  Having a dream is a refreshing reminder that life doesn't have to be humdrum and gives us something to work toward, and when we reach the goal, a huge reward in the form of something that we've been waiting and wishing for, sometimes for years.

Something else I've come to learn has to do with the relationships in my life.  Having these dreams of traveling from my childhood being realized, it's showed me that God knows and remembers not only my needs, but my wants - even those I may not even yet know myself.  Another dream every little little girl imagines is being swept away by the fairytale handsome prince - and that one only grows stronger as we get older.  I used to dream of being done school, getting my driver's licence, and of course traveling.  I wasn't too concerned with boys when I was younger.  But as my dreams are either given up (such as being a pilot - not really into that anymore) or fulfilled, new ones take their places.  I dream now of having a career and a husband, and I know that even though I'm not one hundred perecent sure how those will happen yet, as long as I keep praying, waiting, and watching for an opportunity, when I am ready God will make those things happen, too.


PS: Did I mention I bought my plane tickets last night?

Purity In Its Purest Form

Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement!  I am a single young woman of marriagable age! 

Yes, I know you already know.  In fact, some may disagree.. many these days consider twenty too young.  But fact is, people my age (and younger!) are getting into relationships, getting married, and beginning families.  Many of us singletons simply watch in major confusion and ample jealousy as two people we know fall helplessly into this thing called "love", buy pretty rings, and pay exhorbitant prices for huge parties to proclaim their mutual fascination for each other to the rest of the world and solemnly promise to do their best to stay fascinated until they're old and wrinkly.

This naturally raises questions for us not quite so lucky ones. 

There is the whole mottled bottle of questions involving dating, what kind of a guy should I go out with, blah blah blah.. but many of us never dare to ask the questions we are most curious about: those involving sex.

We are sexual beings.  There's no denying that.  And the older we get, the more apparent it becomes.  I can't speak for everyone, but as I mature, the longings and the questions get deeper and deeper, as well as more confusing.  I know enough people that feel the same way to assume that statement is true for a good part of the population - especially if you are inexperienced in love.

So how do we answer those deepseated feelings?  Every girl struggles with complex issues about attractiveness, fear of rejection, of not being enough, of being alone... what is the right thing to tell a girl that will convince her everything will be okay, there is someone out there for you, and yes, you will find love...

Nobody knows for sure.  Some are very successful at it, but it takes years of practice, study, and many failures before they know how to make someone KNOW that everything's going to be okay.. and it's usually their own wives who help them figure it out.

Where do the rest of us turn to?  Unfortunately, that question is the the root of much of the young girl's problems today.  Many teens are too ashamed or afraid to ask, and parents find it much too awkward to approach.  So our nation's daughters get their answers about romance, love and sex from raunchy magazines and television shows that make your heart race and your brain swoon but contain little of reality or truth.

I was lucky enough to have a mom willing to share what she knew about relationships and sex, good and bad, complete or not.  But I am in the minority.  Too many young ladies have the wrong ideas about what it means to be in a relationship and undervalue the gift of their virginity.

I recently went online to look up advice on having sex the first time, to see what people my age and younger would be reading (and you can bet your life they do).  I also read some personal stories of first time sexual encounters.  Some I was encouraged by, but they were quickly outweighed by scenarios that belonged in R-rated movies.  Many stories contained comments that went along the lines of, "I didn't feel ready, but he wanted me to, so I just did it,", "We were holding hands, and one thing led to another..", and "I didn't want my first time to be like this, and I regret my choices."

Some websites were very clear about the physical details one could expect (amount of pain, etc), but the one thing I appreciated the most were the stories that admitted to feeling more pressure than pleasure.  90% of testimonies on those sites were from young girls and guys admitting to having sexual relations mid-teens, with someone they thought "loved them", only to break up a few weeks or months later and realize they'd wasted their gift on another who didn't care as much as they seemed to.

That REALLY bothers me.

Since the dawn of time, people have been struggling with one question.  It has many faces, but when you look past the weight loss, the makeup, the hair, the muscles, the cars, houses, boats, jobs... we all need to know: are we good enough?  And it has never been more prevalent than now.

It is my belief that society has a responsibility, and we are failing.  We are responsible to treat every person as a person and an individual, with individual needs, wants, and fears.  We are responsible to make our young people understand that they don't need what TV says they need in order to be accepted and productive members of society.  We are responsible to tell each twelve year old girl and boy that they do not need to be skinner, more muscled, more painted up, stronger.  That they don't need to have sex before they're sixteen.  That they are much more valuable than they think and believe and they don't have to prove themselves to anyone.

Because that's what they believe. 

But that's not what I believe.

I too, have questions.  I too desire a relationship and to experience love and sex and all that goes with it.  I'm preprogrammed to do so, and media today sadly isn't helping to solve the probelm.  But I know that unless I'm ready, with the right man, at the right time, things will go sour quicker than warm milk.  I know that waiting for a covenant marriage, where my husband and I have committed to walk together for life, will be worth all the pain, impatience, confusion, and unmet desire I struggle with now.

My solution?  I remember.  I remember every successful couple I've ever met, every unsuccessful relationship I've ever witnessed, all the broken young men and women that weren't sure what they wanted, and figured it out too late.  Then, I pray.  Pray for strength to wait.  Pray for wisdom in how I deal with the men in my life.  I even pray for the ones I'm attracted to or interested in, that they would have wisdom in their own lives and that God would work in them and remind them of how much they're worth. 

One of the most valuable tools to deal with the questions I've found is having close friends of the same sex who are willing to talk about it.  Friends who are going through the same struggles, same feelings, and will encourage you as you encourage them.

It's hard, but it will not last forever.  You are good enough.  I am good enough.  And someday, we'll all find the love we're dreaming of.

You might be reading this and thinking, this doesn't apply to me.  I'm 40 years old with three kids, a great husband, and a busy life.  Or, I'm 60 years old and have two grandkids.  Well, got news for ya.  You're wrong.  It very much applies to you, to your kids, to your grandkids, to your neighbours, the cop that pulled you over last week, and the man behind the counter at Tim's.  People's struggles don't end magically when they reach a certain age.  Fairytale weddings turn into horrific nightmares because of these issues.  Each of us knows what it feels like.  Each has influence.  Go out today and encourage someone.  Hopefully someday we'll convince the world.

Remembrances.

I have photos on my walls. 

Not uncommon.

They're photos of places, pets, past times, projects, and people.  Mostly people.  Many people.  Many people that I don't even speak to anymore.

The past three weeks I have been staring at particular sets of photos on my walls, gazing upon faces of princes familiar.  People I used to be really good friends with.  Maybe even family.  I was, at least, for one - a little sister.  But "used" is past tense.  Meaning what "used" to be is no longer.  Meaning it doesn't happen anymore.  I'm not anyone's little sister now.

My heart's been aching like I've never experienced before.  Friends come and go all the time.  It's happened a hundred, a thousand, countless times to me.  I always find new ones to fill the space.  But not this time. 

The walls are crumbling and the cracks are widening.  And I miss them.

And it hurts.

I don't understand why I miss these few particulars more than others in the past.  I certainly had good friends, even best friends, that moved away or changed schools and I lived on.  Maybe it's the way they went.

I do, however, understand why I miss them.  They made me happy.  I felt confident, appreciated, loved.  Maybe even pretty.  Protected.  Valued.  Sometimes even fun.

But it ended.  Not slowly, and not even with a goodbye from at least one of them.  Just dropped.  Like marshmallows in fire.  Bam.  Done.  Melted.  Burned and gone. 

Just. Gone.

I guess that it hurts because at one point, I meant something, more than just a friend, someone they cared about and spent time with.  Because I cared about them.  Invested my time, energy, wisdom, patience, and even cash.  For long periods of time.  Months.

Then circumstances change and they're just gone.  I feel so abandoned and forgotten.  I can't comprehend how you can spend four or five days a week with someone, then go from that to not even a shred of communication in less than two months.  Because I tried.  Facebooked, texted, called.  Knocked on doors when I could.  Nothing worked.  I was relocated to the back burner, set on very low heat, and forgotten about.  Maybe even turned off all the way.

My head's telling me that I don't need friends like that.  That it's good they're not talking to me, because it just proves that they don't care enough to put effort into it anyway.  That I should just give up and move on and find people who will put the time in.  That I'm better off this way.

But my heart misses those who were close.  Maybe I can't have them back the way things were, but I wish I could have them back at all.  Even one conversation, just to show me they haven't forgotten.  That life just got in the way, communication broke down, I'm sorry, they're sorry, and we'll fix it.  Have coffee.

But I know that most, if not all, won't repair themselves the way I wish they could.  And I know that's something I'll have to learn to live with.  Because I'm an adult now, and I have to choose what kind of people I want to be around.  There will be new friends, and old ones.  And there will be people with whom it is better to break contact with, regardless of how I feel about them.  But there will also be people, and one specific person eventually, who will be able to fill every void I've felt and am feeling and will feel.  When I learn to let go, and stop allowing this kind of situation to affect my happiness. 

Welcome to life.  Wish it was easier.  It's not.  No cake walks.  Just bushwhacking.

Living and Learning

First off, I want to explain why my posts have been so few and far between as of late.  I feel like the purpose of this blog is not just for me to write and to get things off my chest, but also to provide a solid view on issues and why I see it that way - to perhaps have something concrete, a lesson of some sort, that the reader can take away.  If nothing else, for people to understand who I am and why I feel the way I do.  Lately, my thoughts have been nothing but abstract emotions, slowly conglomerating into life lessons.  Until this week, I couldn't put words to anything I've been feeling, experiencing, and learning that would format into cohesive sentences.  I didn't want to write anything on here that didn't have a point.. or a semblance of a point... so that's why there's been almost nothing.  I'm sorry, but I'm human and sometimes I'm a slow learner.. plus I've exhausted many of the things that I have opinions on in this blog already.  Haha.  That being said, I feel like I've learned three HUGE things in the past two weeks. 

I've started going to a girls' group every Saturday night.  It's going to be some kind of Bible study (we're discussing potential topics right now), but it's also just a place where we can go to hang out with, and be real with, other like-minded young adult females.  I'll go into more detail in a bit here, but it was mostly in talking with these ladies that all these thoughts morphed into ideas.

The first one has to do with relationships.  Obviously, I'm at an age where that's often on my mind.  It's hard to forget when my friends are starting to get married and some older ones are having their first children.  God has seen fit, in the last year or so, to put me into many positions where I am blessed to be able to give a listening ear to folks younger than myself (and occasionally older too) with their relationships, and to offer an opinion and advice if it's wanted. 
I sometimes find it difficult to talk about such things objectively, when they're describing how they feel and dreams and problems and whatnot - describing things I wish I had and don't, and never have.  Since I've never been in a relationship, I assume that I'm a good communicator, or a good listener, or both, since they keep coming back to me with questions and thoughts.  I get jealous, but it's my opinion that you should look for a relationship with the intention of marriage - and I don't know if I'm ready for that yet. 

However, last week I was texting a friend about it and he replied, "Half of me wants a relationship, some of me doesn't, and the rest isn't sure."  I felt that was exactly where I was at, and then a thought came, which I texted back: "I'm learning too much about relationships to be in one right now."  I think that's a very encouraging statement for myself.  By talking about others' relationships, I'm learning a lot about what it takes to make, break and repair them.. knowledge I'm sure I'll find useful in the future.  Lesson One.

Lesson Two was about lies.  It says in the Bible that satan is the father of lies, and it describes him as the god of this world, a lion seeking to devour, and a red dragon.  Those are powerful descriptions, and this week I learned that satan is a powerful being and if I am not strong in God's word of who He says I am, I am easily overcome.  The last little while I've had a nagging thought in the back of my head - one that said my friends only hung out with me because they were obligated to.  For instance, the girls called me for that Bible study because I'm a 'young adult' and 'part of the group'.. on the list.. and not necessarily because they wanted me there.  And my best buddy only hung out with me because either I asked him, or because he wanted to see my family - hang out with my sister, who is closer in age - but because she was busy I was the next best option.  I have always had a difficult time believing that people actually liked me, but it was very hard this last week.  I knew it was stupid to think things like that, because people don't hang out with people they don't like... but driving my buddy home one night, I asked him straight out, "Do you like hanging out with me?"  We've been friends for a year, and close friends for probably ten months of that year.  His response was what should've been expected: "Yeah, I spend more time with you than anyone else.  Why?"  I felt bad for doubting.  But reality is, I did.

Lesson Two was about trusting and believing that I am valuable.  That people aren't lying to me, aren't deceived somehow, when they tell me they like me, or I'm a fun person to be around, or I look good.  I learned that if I let satan in, he'll take what I gave him and push in far past the line I drew, as deep as he can get.  But I also learned that I can overcome that, if I remember the truth and dwell on that instead, trusting the Lord when He says that He made me in His image and although I'm not perfect because I'm human, He made no mistakes when He created me.

Lesson Three was the value of friendship.  Nay, more than that.  The value of life partnerships, support, and love between people.  A kind of friendship that is much more than just the occasional coffee and movie night or walk on the beach.  This girls' group is exactly that sort of friendship.

We meet at 7 or 7:30 every Saturday night.  I've only gone two out of three weeks, but I feel so lightened when I leave each time that I'd almost rather go all night.  Everyone who's attended has vocalized similar feelings.  Essentially, right now it's a "if you knew me" group.  I blogged about that particular show months ago, and now I find myself doing the same thing. We all know, or know of, each other, but for that two hours or so, we make a point to KNOW each other.  Everything.  Good, bad, and most important, the ugly.  I shared about the two things I just wrote about.  Others have shared about how they feel pressure to stand up to expectations, how they feel they have no one to lean on in their lives, and a multitude of other things we are normally taught not to 'burden others' with.  Emotions run high - toilet paper is a necessity - but we laugh a lot too.  We have sworn to hide nothing, to love everyone, to listen to anything - confidentially - and we have.  And we've discovered the value of having a group of people who know when your life is full of crap.

The first week I went, we shared about our past and current struggles.  Then we prayed as a group.  Last night, we recapped and updated a little for some new people, and then we spent nearly three hours going around our circle of six or seven people, encouraging each other.  The only rule was you had to make eye contact.. focus on one person at a time, and everyone shared something personal and uplifting with that individual.  Nobody struggled to find anything to say, and tears flowed freely.. and for me, it really helped me to shake the idea that people don't love me for me, but because they 'should'.  For twenty minutes, I had love poured on me from every corner of the room - and it was amazing.  Life changing.  Saturday nights are becoming the best nights of the week, and perhaps some of the best nights of my life thus far.  Those girls and those hours mean so much to me.

I would encourage you to find at least one person, if not more, you can be completely honest with and spill anything and everything to.  Remember that you're valuable, and although it's so hard for some reason to take compliments, when you get one, look that person in the eye and allow those words to sink in as you thank them.

I've had an incredible couple of weeks in my life.  There are so many opportunities to learn about myself and about others.  You have them too.  Find them.  Use them.  Test them.  Invest them.

I'm A Child Again

Right this moment, my mother has just finished crying.  I'm not sure what she was crying about - I never asked.It's not that I don't love my mother, or want to comfort her, or that I don't care... but my step dad was already there.  And I realized something.

This is how I should've felt ten years ago.

My parents separated when I was four, and although my mother dated several men before finding the right man (who is amazing and they're about ten years together), she often felt alone and frusterated.  Understandable, as a single mother of two young children (my sister was two years old), and having to provide all the necessities of life on her own.  My father sent money and came to see us, but in the early years both cash and visits were somewhat scarce.  (Past is past, and the situation improved, they now get along famously).

Throughout the six or so years we were a three person family, things often arose that stressed her out or made her cry, and as the oldest child and often the only one around she could talk to, I became her confidante in a lot of things, ranging from finances to work stress to anger with my dad over some thing he did or didn't do. 

I don't blame her for that.  It probably wasn't the best way to be raised, and we both realize it - but I'm glad to know that if I helped her get through it a little bit, then it was worth it.  It also taught me a lot about communication and family dynamics, things I've communicated to others to help in their family situations.  It showed me things I never would've learned otherwise about commitment, love, hardship, strength, and ultimately in later years, forgiveness. 

Good or bad, I don't care.  It is what it is, and no one can change the past.  That's the way it was.. until now.  Until I just realized something.  This is how it would've felt, ten years ago, if things were different.

Because Tony is there, taking the role as husband, comforter, supporter - as he rightfully should - I don't have to.  I could ask, and sometimes I do, but it's not my responsibility or obligation.  I used to think it was, and it caused me to grow up a lot faster than some kids.  Not that I mind taking it.  My mom and I are best friends, and I'm okay with still being that person - occassionally. 

But no longer all the time. 

I'm sitting here, writing this, feeling free.  Feeling like the child I used to be but never really was.  I'm grateful for the chance to know what it feels like to let someone else, whose rightful position is such, be the person I used to try to be.  To know that I know my mom loves me, and I love her, but that it's okay to let Tony step in and be her husband, that they need to do this together and maybe it's better if I just stay out. 
I feel like a kid - and even if it's ten years late, I'm glad I know what it feels like to be a kid and to let my mom have what she needed so long ago.

Better late than never.

Son, Have You Seen The World?

I've blogged a few times about songs from the artist Rise Against.  I'm about to do so again.

I haven't listened to them tons lately, but there's a new dishwasher at work and he likes them a lot.  So I was sitting there, working, this afternoon, when a song came on that I've heard before.

However, I recently really heard it for the first time, just a few weeks ago.

It's called Hero Of War.

I debated for a long time about whether to post the lyrics, as they contain some foul language and descriptions of violence.. however, it didn't feel right just to describe the situations to you.  It would water it down.  Therefore, if you have a minor around that likes to read over your shoulder (I was one of those) and you don't want them reading this.. send them away now.

Rise Against - Hero Of War

He said "Son, have you seen the world?

Well, what would you say if I said that you could?
Just carry this gun and you'll even get paid."
I said "That sounds pretty good."
Black leather boots
Spit-shined so bright
They cut off my hair but it looked alright
We marched and we sang
We all became friends
As we learned how to fight


A hero of war
Yeah that's what I'll be
And when I come home
They'll be damn proud of me
I'll carry this flag
To the grave if I must
Because it's a flag that I love
And a flag that I trust


I kicked in the door
I yelled my commands
The children, they cried
But I got my man
We took him away
A bag over his face
From his family and his friends


They took off his clothes
They pissed in his hands
I told them to stop
But then I joined in
We beat him with guns
And batons not just once
But again and again


A hero of war
Yeah that's what I'll be
And when I come home
They'll be damn proud of me
I'll carry this flag
To the grave if I must
Because it's a flag that I love
And a flag that I trust


She walked through bullets and haze
I asked her to stop
I begged her to stay
But she pressed on
So I lifted my gun
And I fired away


The shells jumped through the smoke
And into the sand
That the blood now had soaked
She collapsed with a flag in her hand
A flag white as snow


A hero of war
Is that what they see
Just medals and scars
So damn proud of me
And I brought home that flag
Now it gathers dust
But it's a flag that I love
It's the only flag I trust


He said, "Son, have you seen the world?
Well what would you say, if I said that you could?"

Last night I finished the book A Lucky Child: A Memoir of Surviving Auschwitz as a Young Boy, by Thomas Buergenthal.  At the end of the book, the question that burns for him is why.  Not "Why did this happen?", but "Why did some lose their moral compass while others died standing for what they believed?"

Those are both great questions, but I think the second one is much more poignant.  Asking why something happened questions the idea of fate - "Why did God allow this?", but conversely asking why someone would descend to a level where they treat other humans as dispensable puts the question not on God, but on ourselves.  Why we allow ourselves to choose things we know to be morally wrong.

The same thing occurs in the song I posted above.  The singer describes going to war and making decisions that devalue human life and our unalienable rights ("We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal, that they are endowed, by their Creator, with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness." - USA Founding Fathers).

The question he asks is not why did this happen or why did I allow it, but something even greater - why am I hiding it?  Every man, woman and child desires to conceal the things they've done wrong.  It's ingrained in our blood from Adam and Eve, hiding in the Garden after they sinned.  In the song, the artist paints a picture of coming home and being hailed as a "hero of war", but in his heart and his head, he's saying, "You have no idea what I've done.. all you see are the pictures we choose to send over.  I am not the person you think I am.  I am no more a hero than you; in fact, I am less."

I think those are two questions we ought to be asking ourselves about all the choices we make, and actions we take, in our lives.  Firstly, are we holding true to our moral standards; respecting others and ourselves?  If not, why?  Are we afraid of something or someone, trying to earn recognition, trying to survive, to get that one more bit of moldy black bread as if we were a starving Jew in a Nazi camp? 

When the day comes and we do make mistakes, why do we let people believe what they want to believe?  Maybe it does less harm.. but really, does it?  Are you willing to hold in your wretched secrets to allow others to think you're a hero of war, when you just effectively lied to your boss about a job you didn't get done, because he believes it was someone else's fault and you didn't tell him?  What happens if they ever find out.. wouldn't you rather it was from yourself and not a third party? 

Really.  Why do we do the things we do?  Honesty rarely gets people raises, but it garnishes respect and trust.  To let others down is also to let ourselves down - they may forget, but we cannot.  We reap what we sow.

What's more valuable to you?

A War We All Can't Lose... Dangerous Muse.

I have a new favorite song.  Written by a local, and better yet, someone I know personally... although I don't know if he'd remember me all that well.  I went to school with his daughters.  His name? Andrew Smith.  The song? 

Dangerous Muse.
(http://www.roadmapmusic.com/mood/intense/) [The second track, click the yellow "play" button to listen)

I'm becoming a huge fan of ballads.  I saw Great Big Sea live on Friday night with a friend, and heard this title track from their new album, Safe Upon The Shore.  Check it out here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KlZUwVTfQyU&feature=related

The reason I love ballads is because they produce in me a very ethereal (in the metaphysical sense) longing for life.  As ballads are a much more ancient form of music than rock and pop, they immediately transport me into this primal sort of thinking, where nothing matters but the will to live and the strength to fight for what I love - my family and my home.  To a place and time when there was naught but the plow and the sword to live by, when a man worked the earth and went to war whilst his woman stayed and took charge of the house and children, and sang to them about the day their father would come home.

Nowadays, things have changed so much, as the natural course of technological advancements decree.  There's nothing wrong with that... people live and die as they always have and always will, but now there's more ways to die as well as more ways to prevent one's death, through medicine and things... but sometimes I feel like we've lost something important over the centuries, which is that will to live.  Live, meaning not just remain physically sustained, but to have something you'd give your life for, to take opportunity, to learn and achieve and have something to show for the years you've spent on earth.

Maybe this doesn't apply to everyone.. there are plenty of motivated people here that are doing just that.  However, and I see it personally every day, there are more and more folks who have no idea what they want out of life.. people who just sit and play games or watch movies, go to work, come home, eat, and sleep.  They're just existing, and you know it because they're bored all the time, but when the question comes, "What should we do?"  they never have an answer.

I feel like that sometimes.  My life is (ironically) like the images from a heart moniter... I hit highs where I feel like I can do anything and be anyone, but they're only temporary and after a few months I find myself down in a valley again.

A friend once told me that humans get bored with anything after approximately three months, give or take.  We need constant change in order to stay motivated.  I've never seen a study to corroborate her statement, but I have to believe it, because it's true for me.

Two examples in the last months - my job, first of all.  I loved it for a month, and then the novelty wore off, and then the un-novelty wore off, and I get bored now, and all the staff are in the same boat because tempers are continually wearing shorter.  Hour reductions start April 2nd, and I get laid off for the summer April 29th.  I couldn't ever see myself saying this in the beginning, but I can't wait for it to end now.  I'm in my fifth month, and it's grating on me.

Second example is trampoline and tumbling.  I've been taking classes for two months, and practicing on my own at a small gymnastics gym my mom works at.  Everything was great and I was learning and progressing fast enough to suit my expectations.. until two weeks ago.  I got tired at the end of practice, couldn't land a trick that I can normally, and since then I'm really not even motivated to try anything.  I was so close to landing some things I've been working on for weeks, and I don't even care any more.  I want to know how to do those and other tricks still, but I get on the trampoline and I can't find the drive within myself any longer - it's just as easy to jump off again and walk away.  It doesn't matter to me.  Now I want to learn to play my bodhran, but it gets frustrating (as I'm learning off of youtube with no formal instruction), and I know that eventually I'll give that up too. 

It bothers me, because it's sort of difficult to become good at anything when you only try for two or three months, but at the same time how do you keep yourself excited and willing to pursue your goals when you walk in one day and find out that it doesn't even matter to you any more?  Even with dogs, something I love and could do all day, I find myself feeling 'done'.

The bigger problem is, when I get bored with my current interest, I tend to get bored with everything else as the feeling spills over from that one activity into the rest of my life, and I enter into a cycle of depression.  Having dealt with this a number of times in past years, the only solution I've been able to find is to learn something new.. but often I have problems motivating myself to even get out and try.

I'm entering into that again now.. bored with life and the things I've been doing.. I can't wait to get out my bike and go riding until I'm so exhausted I can't even think about being bored.  Go swimming and relax in the warm summer sun.  But I still need something to do, something that's worth getting up for and being excited about.

And I need to figure out how to stay motivated for the things I'm involved in now.. otherwise I'll end my life being mediocre at a thousand different things, but with no great skill in anything to show for all the time I put into it when I was interested.

I don't really have a big question for introspection this week.  But if you know how I'm feeling and maybe have a way to get past it, please comment and share.  If you don't have a solution but still can identify, comment anyway so we can all be moody, uninterested suckers together.

Just kidding.. sort of.

Oh, and by the way, this is the greatly anticipated (one can dream, can't one?) part 3 of that three piece thought I started a few weeks ago.  Although... ach, nevermind.  It wasn't all that great anyway.

A New Creed To Succeed

If you know me at all, you ought to know that I love dogs, and anything to do with dogs.  That includes playing and petting, exercising - even the nastier things like bathing and scooping poop - if it means I get to spend time with a beautiful canine, I'm in.  However, I ESPECIALLY love training.

To have a dog, or any animal for that matter, execute a behaviour perfectly and on cue not only looks good to others because your dog is "obedient" and "smart", it is also a hugely satisfying feeling to know that this animal has done this thing because you taught it to.

I've owned dogs for the past roughly 11 years.  I've learned some things about training and care and what works, as well as plenty that doesn't work at all.  I've built confidence in my abilities to teach and to handle a dog, and knowledge in how to approach different personalities.  However, nobody's ever finished learning, and if someone thinks they know everything there is to know, they're probably an arrogant person and not fit to hang around anyway.

That being said, I have recently (in the last three weeks or so), entered into the world of clicker training.  Clicker training is the use of a clicker (essentially a thin piece of metal that makes a clicking sound when bent) and reinforcement (food, play, or anything the subject likes) to capture behaviours and put them on cue.

For example, teaching a dog to come on cue is the first thing any trainer will do.  Essentially, you "click" the dog first when it even looks at you, and then for taking steps toward you, and eventually for running directly to you past various distractions.  Each time you click the dog, you offer it a reward, known as a reinforcer.  The dog does not understand that you are teaching it to 'come'.  What it does understand that every time it comes to you, you make that sound and it gets something it really likes (often a food tidbit works great).  You then add a "cue" (a word, hand signal, scent, flashing light), and as the dog continues to perform the behaviour, it will begin to associate with the cue given at the same time, and it learns, "Hey, when she says, "sit" and I put my bottom on the ground, I get a treat!"

This is known as operant conditioning.  What it means is that the subject learns that every time A occures, B follows.  A common example from human life is the stove - we've all learned that A - putting our hand on a hot burner results in B - getting burned.  At the same time, we've learned that removing said hand stops the pain.

Clicker training is the technology evolved from operant conditioning. There are negative reinforcers -  like in the example just given, when we remove our hand from the element (A), the negative aspect (the burning sensation) is removed (B), resulting in a more positive experience and something retained.  There are postive reinforcers as well.  The dog learns that every time it hears the clicker (A), a reward follows (B).  All that's required now is to pair the behaviour with a cue of some sort, transfer the behaviour reinforcement from the click to the new cue, and you shortly have Fido performing his sit quickly and reliably.

There are two major rules to clicker training, and the first is that there is no punishment involved whatsoever.  If the subject doesn't offer the behaviour wanted, it doesn't get a reward - simple as that.  Secondly, that you must set up the training in such a way that you ensure the subject will eventually succeed.  Ensure that your dog has nothing better to do while you're training it a new behaviour, so that it gets so bored it will eventually sit naturally - and you click.  The dog will go, "Heyyyy... what just happened?  Hm.  What did I do?  Maybe I can do it again..." 

You may have noticed that I've been using the word cue instead of command... on http://www.clickertraining.com/, author and clicker trainer Karen Pryor makes this statement in an article about clicker training falcons:

To do this, we need to understand more about cues. A cue is different from a command. We give our dogs commands all the time: Come here. Lie down. Get in the truck. Shut up. A command is a signal to do something, but it is also a threat: Come here Or Else. Or else I will make you do it. Or else I will reprimand you. If the command is not heeded, we often escalate the threat aspect: we yell the command, for example. This often works with dogs. Sometimes it works with people. But we all know it NEVER works with birds.

That doesn't mean, however, that you can't tell a bird what to do; you just do it with cues, instead of commands. We don't normally teach cues methodically; animals pick them up. You decide to go to the store, so you make sure you've got your car keys. The dog hears the keys jingle, and runs to the front door. That sound has become the cue for a behavior: "Get to the door fast, and I might get to go for a ride." A cue is like a green light: it's a window of opportunity to do the right thing and get reinforced for it. Here's the cue: my fist in position. Step onto my glove, and you'll get a click and a treat. The cue need not be so obvious: a whistle or a gesture that's nowhere near the perch can tell the bird "Get on the perch and I will click you.

The big difference between a cue and a command is that while a command is an implied threat, a cue is a positive signal: a cue is an opportunity for reinforcement. When the cue is well-learned, it becomes a sort of "on" switch for action. The animal WANTS to do the behavior the cue indicates, because it has paid off handsomely now and then in the past. It doesn't stop to ponder, "Yes, but do I want a tidbit more than I want to sit on this telephone pole?" It just responds. "Oh, he said 'Come!' Good, here I come!" So, once you have established a cue, you don't need to escalate it, to get results. When the light turns green, we step on the gas immediately; two green lights, or a bigger green light, would not make us step on the gas any faster or better. When the phone rings, we answer it, even though sometimes the caller is a roofing salesman and sometimes we were doing something we really enjoyed more than phone calls when the phone rang. It's a cue, cues mean a chance to get something good, and we respond.

Makes sense, doesn't it? 

So here's my thought for the day. 

What if we applied this to our lives? 

Not just training our pets to perform pretty tricks, but actually applied it.

We all know someone who is simply way too busy.  Activites, kids, meetings, travel - they just have no time.  What if you're that person?  You probably find that not everything you do gets done as well as you could do it, and I'm willing to bet that it's because of a lack of time to apply to it.  You haven't set yourself up to be successful.  It doesn't even have to be about reaping a reward, but even that would come.  By reducing the amount of things in your schedule, you free up time to better complete those events and tasks that you have still committed to - but you also have time for coffee with friends, for a warm bath with candles, or a date night with your spouse...

What about our kids?  Asking them to clean their room often seems like more of a headache than a help.  But what if you put a bit more effort into creating a situation where they are more likely to be successful on their own?  Instead of putting up just shelves for the toys, label boxes with pictures of Lego, dollies, and cars, then place matching labels on the shelves where the boxes should go.  Put organizational bins in the closet for craft supplies, and then put into practice the same principle clicker trainers use to teach a new behaviour - make the reward for offering the wanted behaviour (cleaning up) much more tempting and substantial than the children's current activity.  For instance, putting away your toys means you can help mommy bake and decorate cookies afterwards. 

There's even a training technique where trainers call the animal away from what it's doing (for instance, a dog chasing a squirrel), but then reward its obedience by allowing it to return to the same acitivity.  So let's say Sarah is playing with PlayDoh, but has neglected to tidy up her tea party things from several hours ago.  Her mother might say, "Sarah, dear, it's time to clean up your tea party, but you can go back that after you're finished."  Sarah obeys because she knows that the PlayDoh wasn't taken away, but rather postponed. 

If you think hard, you could come up with thousands of similar situations for anyone.  I'm not trying to compare people to dogs or birds, but sometimes the same principles work for both.  Why don't we start cueing ourselves and others instead of commanding? 

How can you set yourself and those around you up for success today?