You know you're getting older the first time you tell your youngest cousin "Geez, you've gotten tall."
Showing posts with label holiday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label holiday. Show all posts
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
Winter's Heat
The signs of oncoming winter: fewer leaves, more sugar, less daylight, more precipitation, less time at work, more time on holiday... But in one aspect, all things run contrary to the natural workings of the world. From mid-October to late February, I go into heat.
I don't know if it's the temperature or the spirit of sharing, but something switches in my body, and I become a moody, hormonal mess who is ready to jump on the hunt for lovin'. Rarr... For the last three years, I attempted dating during this season. Before that, I used the snowy weather as an excuse to get others into the hot tub. Invariably, the results were as follows: disappointment, disappointment, disappointment, disappointment, a little bit of longing, and a lot more disappointment. I'm detecting a pattern here...
In any case, as the sun goes down and the Christmas lights come up (yes, they're already up in Glendale), I'm feeling the stirrings again: the discontent, the longing, the lust, the madness, the fear of not being good enough for someone I haven't even pictured in my mind yet. It's all coming back at once, just in time for the holidays.
It's the most wonderful time of the year!
The big difference this year is that I'm not using the internet to find anyone. No internet, no find, no date, no projection of expectations, no disappointment. But the heat is on. Woof. There's a knock at the door and a threat to blow the house down, but this little pig needs to stay practical, put the kettle on, and keep warm with wolf tea this year. The house is still under construction. Until it is built, there shall be no breaching of doors or chimneys.
I don't know if it's the temperature or the spirit of sharing, but something switches in my body, and I become a moody, hormonal mess who is ready to jump on the hunt for lovin'. Rarr... For the last three years, I attempted dating during this season. Before that, I used the snowy weather as an excuse to get others into the hot tub. Invariably, the results were as follows: disappointment, disappointment, disappointment, disappointment, a little bit of longing, and a lot more disappointment. I'm detecting a pattern here...
In any case, as the sun goes down and the Christmas lights come up (yes, they're already up in Glendale), I'm feeling the stirrings again: the discontent, the longing, the lust, the madness, the fear of not being good enough for someone I haven't even pictured in my mind yet. It's all coming back at once, just in time for the holidays.
It's the most wonderful time of the year!
The big difference this year is that I'm not using the internet to find anyone. No internet, no find, no date, no projection of expectations, no disappointment. But the heat is on. Woof. There's a knock at the door and a threat to blow the house down, but this little pig needs to stay practical, put the kettle on, and keep warm with wolf tea this year. The house is still under construction. Until it is built, there shall be no breaching of doors or chimneys.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Easter Sunday
I can't remember what I did last Easter. I think I was staring at the screen, growling over my thesis and wishing I could be frolicking about like a bunny hopped up on chocolate creme eggs. Pun intended. Not being raised religious, Easter has pretty much been another time for presents and goodies, basically like Christmas and Halloween all in one (after all, the Easter Bunny scared the crap out of me). Fast forward a decade or so, and it's taken on new meanings, not the least of which being the end of my Lenten experiment.
I'll start with that first. How did my Lent go? Did I make it all forty days without processed sugar? No. What, Kyle? You caved? Not exactly. I had crazy nightmares about being duped into indulging in sugar, and I have a six-inch pile of deferred confections on my desk at work to prove it. Nonetheless, it is absolutely astonishing how sugary the American diet is. These were my three downfalls: salmon sprinkled with brown sugar, a chicken sausage flavored with maple syrup, and finally, and most diabolically, a piece of kettle corn deposited into my hand by a vendor at the Poppy Festival, and instinctively put into my mouth and chewed before I even realized what it was. Yikes, yikes, yikes.
Nonetheless, I learned a valuable lesson from this experience: that there is no pleasure in life that cannot be replaced by something better. Despite the onslaught of "I'm sorry," "You poor thing," "I could never do that," et cetera (notwithstanding the fact that this was my decision and not some punishment thrust upon me), I upped my fruit consumption, focused on improving the variety of my diet overall, and even starting to lose some of my sweet tooth. My gums have even stopped bleeding when I floss! TMI? Whatever! This is freaking awesome, and I have to call the bluff of anyone who says "I need my ___."
But aside from the physical aspect of things, the Easter holiday is based on the resurrection of Jesus and thus is a time for great celebration and hope for new life. This is an aspect I'd never associated with the holiday, so I decided I would go to a service today. Combining goals, I arranged to visit the Self Realization Fellowship Lake Shrine for a group meditation and service. Unfortunately, the website did not mention that the service would be canceled for the holiday and replaced by a much bigger, much earlier event. C'est la vie. Not to be daunted on this day of new life, I kept searching.
The temple garden, dedicated to religions of the world, is rightly hailed as one of the most beautiful in the state of California. Straight away, I found a lovely tiled bench on the lake shore, sat, and watched the fountain bubble, the turtles courting each other in the water, the ripples, the callas, and suddenly, the most miraculous thing happened: I was calm. The chaos that had filled my mind for the past few weeks was gone, replaced by that pair of turtles caressing each other's faces.
As I moved from the bench to the Windmill Chapel, I became aware of a new mentality. I felt free from the rush; I didn't have to go anywhere. I could just sit and listen. I could feel the air of bodies coming and going. I could hear their breathing. A woman entered behind me and began to talk but cut herself off. Normally, this sort of action in a quiet space would have irritated me disproportionally, but this time, I had only one question: What did she just discover that made her cut herself off? It's the sort of idea I'd entertained a few times before, but I'd never really felt before now that people can still discover, still wonder, if not about the same things that I wonder. It was the effect of the silence, stripping away the misanthropic cloud to remind me that I am among people, that I am one of them... that I belong with them.
As I left the chapel, feeling renewed, I reflected on that which truly fills me with wonder. Mist. Sunsets. Stars. Tears. And on thinking of them, the realization occurred to me that all the stress I'd put myself through, all the sacrifices I thought I was making for good, all the self-denial I'd made for the wrong reasons, did not matter. I did not have to do anything; the way I live my life is my choice. Then I came to understand the name of the place, and I left in peace on a bright Easter Sunday.
I'll start with that first. How did my Lent go? Did I make it all forty days without processed sugar? No. What, Kyle? You caved? Not exactly. I had crazy nightmares about being duped into indulging in sugar, and I have a six-inch pile of deferred confections on my desk at work to prove it. Nonetheless, it is absolutely astonishing how sugary the American diet is. These were my three downfalls: salmon sprinkled with brown sugar, a chicken sausage flavored with maple syrup, and finally, and most diabolically, a piece of kettle corn deposited into my hand by a vendor at the Poppy Festival, and instinctively put into my mouth and chewed before I even realized what it was. Yikes, yikes, yikes.
Nonetheless, I learned a valuable lesson from this experience: that there is no pleasure in life that cannot be replaced by something better. Despite the onslaught of "I'm sorry," "You poor thing," "I could never do that," et cetera (notwithstanding the fact that this was my decision and not some punishment thrust upon me), I upped my fruit consumption, focused on improving the variety of my diet overall, and even starting to lose some of my sweet tooth. My gums have even stopped bleeding when I floss! TMI? Whatever! This is freaking awesome, and I have to call the bluff of anyone who says "I need my ___."
But aside from the physical aspect of things, the Easter holiday is based on the resurrection of Jesus and thus is a time for great celebration and hope for new life. This is an aspect I'd never associated with the holiday, so I decided I would go to a service today. Combining goals, I arranged to visit the Self Realization Fellowship Lake Shrine for a group meditation and service. Unfortunately, the website did not mention that the service would be canceled for the holiday and replaced by a much bigger, much earlier event. C'est la vie. Not to be daunted on this day of new life, I kept searching.
The temple garden, dedicated to religions of the world, is rightly hailed as one of the most beautiful in the state of California. Straight away, I found a lovely tiled bench on the lake shore, sat, and watched the fountain bubble, the turtles courting each other in the water, the ripples, the callas, and suddenly, the most miraculous thing happened: I was calm. The chaos that had filled my mind for the past few weeks was gone, replaced by that pair of turtles caressing each other's faces.
As I moved from the bench to the Windmill Chapel, I became aware of a new mentality. I felt free from the rush; I didn't have to go anywhere. I could just sit and listen. I could feel the air of bodies coming and going. I could hear their breathing. A woman entered behind me and began to talk but cut herself off. Normally, this sort of action in a quiet space would have irritated me disproportionally, but this time, I had only one question: What did she just discover that made her cut herself off? It's the sort of idea I'd entertained a few times before, but I'd never really felt before now that people can still discover, still wonder, if not about the same things that I wonder. It was the effect of the silence, stripping away the misanthropic cloud to remind me that I am among people, that I am one of them... that I belong with them.
As I left the chapel, feeling renewed, I reflected on that which truly fills me with wonder. Mist. Sunsets. Stars. Tears. And on thinking of them, the realization occurred to me that all the stress I'd put myself through, all the sacrifices I thought I was making for good, all the self-denial I'd made for the wrong reasons, did not matter. I did not have to do anything; the way I live my life is my choice. Then I came to understand the name of the place, and I left in peace on a bright Easter Sunday.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Updates and Thanks
It's amazing how quickly this last month has passed, and already Thanksgiving has swept on through like a turkey with a jet pack... and a lot of meth. Nonetheless, tardiness aside, I'd like to take a moment to express thanks for a month of multi-layered progress:
Bun:
- I'm learning to add the spi- to the -ritual.
- I'm discovering that a life of misery is not the will of God.
Meat:
- I have started to incorporate stretching into every workout.
- I am learning how to subsist on more than crackers and mashed potatoes.
- I have done the unthinkable and attained mastery of my domain.
Cheese:
- Having removed myself from Facebook, I am attracting more direct and personal relationships.
- I am practicing the principle of not letting the sun go down on my wrath.
- I am learning to handle confrontation and, once initiated, resolve it.
- I am removing the pressure to socialize, in favor of something more genuine.
- I am learning to communicate more directly and efficiently.
- I am taking further interest in the detailed lives of others.
Lettuce:
- In absence of a logical reason to be depressed, I've decided to be cheerful.
- I'm discovering the things I like about myself.
- I'm raising my awareness of my limits and flaws and addressing them directly.
- I'm learning to separate my past behavior from my current, progressive self, and thus stop the trains of thought at the station.
Tomatoes:
- I have started to take more regular breaks at work.
- I'm finding ways to make work more exciting, for instance, pretending that I'm the HR equivalent of Jack Bauer with limited time to sort 500 applications.
- I'm letting myself spend money.
- I'm planning ahead.
Onions:
- I'm discovering that subduing my emotions, then chastising myself for having subdued emotions, is stupid.
- I'm exploring my feelings of sadness and anger when I feel them, instead of trying to force them into the shape of delight.
- I am acknowledging my moments of happiness with the understanding that though they may not last, they are enjoyable.
- I am letting myself be moved by music.
Ketchup:
- I am again single, but I am shedding bitterness as I become more aware of how I approach relationships.
- I am working to resolve previous issues that have corrupted my perception of relationships.
- I am re-discovering "No" with the understanding that the right people can still say "Yes" a week after hearing "No."
Bun:
- I'm learning to add the spi- to the -ritual.
- I'm discovering that a life of misery is not the will of God.
Meat:
- I have started to incorporate stretching into every workout.
- I am learning how to subsist on more than crackers and mashed potatoes.
- I have done the unthinkable and attained mastery of my domain.
Cheese:
- Having removed myself from Facebook, I am attracting more direct and personal relationships.
- I am practicing the principle of not letting the sun go down on my wrath.
- I am learning to handle confrontation and, once initiated, resolve it.
- I am removing the pressure to socialize, in favor of something more genuine.
- I am learning to communicate more directly and efficiently.
- I am taking further interest in the detailed lives of others.
Lettuce:
- In absence of a logical reason to be depressed, I've decided to be cheerful.
- I'm discovering the things I like about myself.
- I'm raising my awareness of my limits and flaws and addressing them directly.
- I'm learning to separate my past behavior from my current, progressive self, and thus stop the trains of thought at the station.
Tomatoes:
- I have started to take more regular breaks at work.
- I'm finding ways to make work more exciting, for instance, pretending that I'm the HR equivalent of Jack Bauer with limited time to sort 500 applications.
- I'm letting myself spend money.
- I'm planning ahead.
Onions:
- I'm discovering that subduing my emotions, then chastising myself for having subdued emotions, is stupid.
- I'm exploring my feelings of sadness and anger when I feel them, instead of trying to force them into the shape of delight.
- I am acknowledging my moments of happiness with the understanding that though they may not last, they are enjoyable.
- I am letting myself be moved by music.
Ketchup:
- I am again single, but I am shedding bitterness as I become more aware of how I approach relationships.
- I am working to resolve previous issues that have corrupted my perception of relationships.
- I am re-discovering "No" with the understanding that the right people can still say "Yes" a week after hearing "No."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)