Welcome to Challenge 34 over at Blog This!. The challenge topic this time is:
If you met your younger self - What would you tell yourself? Would you give advice? What advice would that be? Ask about your perception of the world? Give us an idea of who you think you were or who you think you'll be in the future...
( Note, i have done a post similar in topic to this back in 2007, but in the past two years i've learnt so much more! So this challenge post is a completely new and different post to the old one.... )
If i were able to travel back in time, Marty McFly style, and have a bit of a deep and meaningful with my younger self, i think there would have to be three key bits of advice i'd have to impart to teenage me:
Number one: DO NOT LISTEN TO YOUR NEGATIVE SELF-VOICE. Seriously, thats in capital letters for a reason, 'cause its pretty damn important. You miss out on so much fun and adventure because you listen so attentively to your worst critic - you. Thats right, its nobody else saying it but you. Its entirely in your head, and in your head is where you'll be spending most of your formative years if you dont tell your inner critic to back the fork off, okay? Turn it off, tune it out and instead of backing out of things when they get a little scary, run into them head first and see which parts hit and which parts glance right off without so much as a scratch.
Number two: Save more money. How very pedestrian of me to advise you, but yea - save more money. You start working at the age of 14 which means you've literally earned hundreds of thousands of dollars, but now at 26 its nowhere to be found. I'm not saying you have to turn all Scrooge on me and not spend a single cent - i'm just saying maybe dont waste so much of it on crap. CD's are great and all ( although you could have done without East 17's " Walthamstow " or Ricky Martins self titled release... ) and its great having a different top to wear for every day of the month, but all that money frittered away on junk could have had you paying off more of your house or got you overseas sooner, and more often. Future-You loves to travel, but you wont get to do all that much of it ( a year sent living overseas and one short trip to SE Asia ) before your first child arrives because Young-You didnt save, save, save!
Lastly, Number three: Pay more attention at your Year 12 formal. Particularly to a young man that comes as a guest of one of your classmates. His name is Mick and you will meet him 8 years into the future, fall madly in love, get engaged and have a gorgeous baby boy. When you meet, you have no idea you were both at that same function all those years ago, and find it amusing that the universe sees fit to bring you back together after that first faint brush with fate. If you had both only known, you could have been together so much sooner, and both of your lives would have been completely different!
Also, rethink the velvet dress- right cut, right colour, wroooooooong fabric.......
Showing posts with label self. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self. Show all posts
You Can Still, and Will, Do This....
The past was called to my attention today and i realised that i'm not as contemplative now as i once was. I'm not sure if this is a bad thing - i still contemplate, but the things on my mind are now more often trivial than deep and meaningful. I blog about the days random happenings and make lists of curious tidbits instead of musing on my innermost thoughts. I suppose its because i'm happier now - and with happiness there is a definate lessening of internal contemplation. Or internal damnation , which was quite often what was happening in my case. I've stopped looking inside and trying to figure out what was wrong - i still delve inside every now and then but i dont see much wrong anymore. I dont feel like there's so much i need to get off my chest, which really decreases blog post subject matter. That being said, i could make regular posts about how good i'm feeling, and how things are going so well or how much brighter the world seems - only i know that if i was reading a blog where every second poast was sunshine and rainbows i'd be completely turned off. Life needs its yin and its yang, its black and its white, its ups and its downs, in order to be interesting. And so does a blog - just as a blog that was continually full of doom and gloom would become boring, so would continual " happy-happy-joy-joy ".
Whats my point here ? I'm trying to convince myself i'm still capable of deep and meaningful; that i'm still able to ponder the intellectual and the emotional and not just the trivial and ridiculous; that i can still become absorbed and lost in a film or book or album instead of merely watching or reading or listening. And most of all i'm trying to convince myself that being able to do all these things will help me raise a wonderful person, with an open mind and an open heart.
I want to be the mumma who helps her child to experience and live and learn and grow and.... be. I want to let my child know that its a good thing to be smart; that their are hundred ways to do things but that doesnt mean that any one of them is the single " right " way; that thinking for yourself is awesome and being a sheep is not; that different does not always equate to worse. I would like to think i'm up the this task. Admittedly, its crazy to think- not 18 months ago i was still seeing a pyschiatrist, trying to convince myself that i was not the boring/dumb/ugly person that i imagined i was. I had to learn to rely on myself, knowing that true self-reliance and belief was all i needed. Now ? In approximately 9 weeks time i will have someone in my life who will rely on me for everything; their reliance on me will literally be the difference between life and death. Its a sobering, scary yet exhilirating thought.
My life is not going to be mine anymore - and yet it is, and so much more mine than it ever was. Its just going to be different, thats all. And isnt the proverbial change as good as a holiday ?
Whats my point here ? I'm trying to convince myself i'm still capable of deep and meaningful; that i'm still able to ponder the intellectual and the emotional and not just the trivial and ridiculous; that i can still become absorbed and lost in a film or book or album instead of merely watching or reading or listening. And most of all i'm trying to convince myself that being able to do all these things will help me raise a wonderful person, with an open mind and an open heart.
I want to be the mumma who helps her child to experience and live and learn and grow and.... be. I want to let my child know that its a good thing to be smart; that their are hundred ways to do things but that doesnt mean that any one of them is the single " right " way; that thinking for yourself is awesome and being a sheep is not; that different does not always equate to worse. I would like to think i'm up the this task. Admittedly, its crazy to think- not 18 months ago i was still seeing a pyschiatrist, trying to convince myself that i was not the boring/dumb/ugly person that i imagined i was. I had to learn to rely on myself, knowing that true self-reliance and belief was all i needed. Now ? In approximately 9 weeks time i will have someone in my life who will rely on me for everything; their reliance on me will literally be the difference between life and death. Its a sobering, scary yet exhilirating thought.
My life is not going to be mine anymore - and yet it is, and so much more mine than it ever was. Its just going to be different, thats all. And isnt the proverbial change as good as a holiday ?
Curiousity almost killed me
For the last three days in a row, i have been able to see my neighbour, in his house, through one of my windows and into his. Each time, i have stopped briefly, 10 seconds here, 30 seconds there, and watched, wondering what he was doing.Its not that i'm a stalker, or a peeping Tom, but rather an observer by nature. And, of all in nature, i find human beings the most fascinating subject to observe.
I ama people-watcher. I will find myself, at random points almost everyday, momentarily watching someone and wondering who they are, where they're going, what they are doing and even what are they thinking. I wonder if anyone is watching me and doing the same. It amuses me that as i take 30 seconds to watch someone climb out of a taxi, adjust her dress strap, and saunter off into the shopping centre, that someone else maybe 6 feet away is watching me brushing the hair back behind my ear, chewing on my lip and tilting my head ever so slightly. Its like a great big circle of human observance.
Like i said, i'm no stalker - i'm not obsessed with knowing the intimate details of peoples lives - but rather in imagining them, in taking in what i see and guessing at the rest. Its a form of fantasy i suppose, being able to invent a fairytale story for the life of any random person. I watch old women and wonder at what they were like when they were young - were they glamorous 1940's bombshells like Bette Davis, captivating men everywhere and ultimately leaving so many of them broken hearted ? Or was she more a decent, hard-working, girl-next-door type who stole the heart of some young soldier and then pined for him while he was at war ? How many children did she have ? Did she burn her bra in the 70's or subscribe to her mothers notion of womanhood ? None of it is particularly important to me, after all, i dont know them - but i love the notion that everyone, anyone, around me has their own made-for-tv movie life story.
I wonder about what stories people imagine for me, and how far removed from the truth they really are. Do they see me at the pub, like tonight for example, in a slinky dress, cleavage, hair straightened, and call me a slut ? Do they call me a try-hard and think i've put too much effort into trying to look good, just for the local pub/club ? Do they see that as being insecure, or do they imagine me to be supremely confident because i walk through the crowd with my shoulders back, chest out, perfect posture ? Do they think i have a boyfriend in there somewhere, or waiting at home, or do they imagine i'm out on the prowl ? Do the older people who see me at work with my hair pulled back, glasses on, running an optometry practice see me as studious and serious and professional, and do the young people just see me as nerdy or intimidating even ? I would love to be able to read people's mind and see the impressions i make on them.
I must admit to stealing glances of people, especially on public transport, and inventing entire scenarios for why they are there. Or sitting in a park in New York City, literally thousands of people streaming by, and imagining full and satisying lives for all of them. I think its normal to do that, curiosity is second nature to us all, but i dont think its entirely healthy. At some points during my life my curiousity and imagination have run away with me to the point where imagining other peoples lives, thoughts, opinions, view points and stories has become more important than living and telling my own.
I see that now - perhaps that is my most profound observation yet....
I ama people-watcher. I will find myself, at random points almost everyday, momentarily watching someone and wondering who they are, where they're going, what they are doing and even what are they thinking. I wonder if anyone is watching me and doing the same. It amuses me that as i take 30 seconds to watch someone climb out of a taxi, adjust her dress strap, and saunter off into the shopping centre, that someone else maybe 6 feet away is watching me brushing the hair back behind my ear, chewing on my lip and tilting my head ever so slightly. Its like a great big circle of human observance.
Like i said, i'm no stalker - i'm not obsessed with knowing the intimate details of peoples lives - but rather in imagining them, in taking in what i see and guessing at the rest. Its a form of fantasy i suppose, being able to invent a fairytale story for the life of any random person. I watch old women and wonder at what they were like when they were young - were they glamorous 1940's bombshells like Bette Davis, captivating men everywhere and ultimately leaving so many of them broken hearted ? Or was she more a decent, hard-working, girl-next-door type who stole the heart of some young soldier and then pined for him while he was at war ? How many children did she have ? Did she burn her bra in the 70's or subscribe to her mothers notion of womanhood ? None of it is particularly important to me, after all, i dont know them - but i love the notion that everyone, anyone, around me has their own made-for-tv movie life story.
I wonder about what stories people imagine for me, and how far removed from the truth they really are. Do they see me at the pub, like tonight for example, in a slinky dress, cleavage, hair straightened, and call me a slut ? Do they call me a try-hard and think i've put too much effort into trying to look good, just for the local pub/club ? Do they see that as being insecure, or do they imagine me to be supremely confident because i walk through the crowd with my shoulders back, chest out, perfect posture ? Do they think i have a boyfriend in there somewhere, or waiting at home, or do they imagine i'm out on the prowl ? Do the older people who see me at work with my hair pulled back, glasses on, running an optometry practice see me as studious and serious and professional, and do the young people just see me as nerdy or intimidating even ? I would love to be able to read people's mind and see the impressions i make on them.
I must admit to stealing glances of people, especially on public transport, and inventing entire scenarios for why they are there. Or sitting in a park in New York City, literally thousands of people streaming by, and imagining full and satisying lives for all of them. I think its normal to do that, curiosity is second nature to us all, but i dont think its entirely healthy. At some points during my life my curiousity and imagination have run away with me to the point where imagining other peoples lives, thoughts, opinions, view points and stories has become more important than living and telling my own.
I see that now - perhaps that is my most profound observation yet....
The definition of me
So i know almost everyone in the entire universe uses Facebook, so you know what i mean when i start talking about applications. I receive so many application invitations that sometimes i just add something and then completely forget about it for weeks. And so it has been with the " Define Me " application - at some unknown point i added it and it wasnt until this afternoon that i re-discovered it. Basically its an application that allows your friends to add words, anonymously, that they would use to describe you.
This is a somewhat strange concept - firstly because its anonymous so i generally have no idea which person thinks what about me, but secondly because of what they have written. Thus far i only have a small pool of words, but here is how people have chosen to describe me:
1.Reliable
2. Tough
3. Cool
4.Fun
5. Happy
Reliable i am happy to go with - i think thats fairly spot on. Its just how i've been raised. Cool i am pretty sure has come from one of my good friends, who actually, truely, really believes that i am, in fact, cool; or someone on my list who barely knows me at all and just couldnt think of anything more descriptive to write. Fun i think would go along the same lines.
It is the tough and the happy part that has me in a spin. It has intrigued me that someone out there thinks that i am tough. I'm not sure whether they mean in an emotional context or in a " she could totally kill you if the urge took her " kind of way. I'm more of a lover than a fighter so i'm working on the emotional conotation of the word. Ami tough ? I dont think i would describe myself as such, at least not right now. One day i would love for someone, perhaps the man that i love, to describe me as " fierce " - independent, proud, confident and all woman - but that time is not right now. In fact, some days i think it wouldnt take much more than the worng word to make me crumble. For someone to say, or imply, the wrong and all my bravado would completely fall away and i'd just be that empty shell again. At least one night a week i ponder my present situation, and question the future, and that brings me to tears. That is not tough. Perhaps if you c0nsider that i am no longer in the depths of depression, that i no longer want the earth to swallow me up, that i no longer have thoughts of killing myself on a daily basis, that i've beaten all that then, yes, perhaps you could describe me as tough. But personally, its something i aspire to, i just dont see it yet.
And happy ? I think i'm getting there, i'm still working on it and certainly on a day to day basis i'm one of the cheerier people you'll meet ( or at least my co-workers tell as they drain cups of coffee to kick start themselves.... ) but it makes me both oddly concerned and weirdly proud that someone would describe me as happy. Proud that someone would see me that way, because its something that i stuggled with for so longer and perhaps some light of happiness is beginning to show through; but also concerned because there are, as i've just said, moments of supreme sadness, lonliness, and isolation and nobody see them. That concerns me, because thats how i fell into the black hole in the first place. Everyone thought i was ok and really i was hiding my shit away from them all. I think for the most part i AM happy, or at least the majority of the time, its just those dark moments i still need to conquer that keeping me from being the true epitome of the word.
I guess this whole post was just me questioning what others think of me - or perhaps i might be questioning the way i think of myself ?
This is a somewhat strange concept - firstly because its anonymous so i generally have no idea which person thinks what about me, but secondly because of what they have written. Thus far i only have a small pool of words, but here is how people have chosen to describe me:
1.Reliable
2. Tough
3. Cool
4.Fun
5. Happy
Reliable i am happy to go with - i think thats fairly spot on. Its just how i've been raised. Cool i am pretty sure has come from one of my good friends, who actually, truely, really believes that i am, in fact, cool; or someone on my list who barely knows me at all and just couldnt think of anything more descriptive to write. Fun i think would go along the same lines.
It is the tough and the happy part that has me in a spin. It has intrigued me that someone out there thinks that i am tough. I'm not sure whether they mean in an emotional context or in a " she could totally kill you if the urge took her " kind of way. I'm more of a lover than a fighter so i'm working on the emotional conotation of the word. Ami tough ? I dont think i would describe myself as such, at least not right now. One day i would love for someone, perhaps the man that i love, to describe me as " fierce " - independent, proud, confident and all woman - but that time is not right now. In fact, some days i think it wouldnt take much more than the worng word to make me crumble. For someone to say, or imply, the wrong and all my bravado would completely fall away and i'd just be that empty shell again. At least one night a week i ponder my present situation, and question the future, and that brings me to tears. That is not tough. Perhaps if you c0nsider that i am no longer in the depths of depression, that i no longer want the earth to swallow me up, that i no longer have thoughts of killing myself on a daily basis, that i've beaten all that then, yes, perhaps you could describe me as tough. But personally, its something i aspire to, i just dont see it yet.
And happy ? I think i'm getting there, i'm still working on it and certainly on a day to day basis i'm one of the cheerier people you'll meet ( or at least my co-workers tell as they drain cups of coffee to kick start themselves.... ) but it makes me both oddly concerned and weirdly proud that someone would describe me as happy. Proud that someone would see me that way, because its something that i stuggled with for so longer and perhaps some light of happiness is beginning to show through; but also concerned because there are, as i've just said, moments of supreme sadness, lonliness, and isolation and nobody see them. That concerns me, because thats how i fell into the black hole in the first place. Everyone thought i was ok and really i was hiding my shit away from them all. I think for the most part i AM happy, or at least the majority of the time, its just those dark moments i still need to conquer that keeping me from being the true epitome of the word.
I guess this whole post was just me questioning what others think of me - or perhaps i might be questioning the way i think of myself ?
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