Sunday, November 25, 2012
Old School
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Don't Grow Up Too Fast
These past few years I have grown up. It's been a pretty difficult process and it's funny the conclusions you come to at the end of a long process.
I was so eager to grow up for so long. I remember talking to my NSYNC poster on my wall when I was eight and telling it I couldn't wait until I was all grown up and moved out. I remember even through high school craving this independence that I thought came with adulthood. Well, let me tell you, adulthood actually sucks.
Bills. Rent. Money. Loans. Credit. Responsibility. Car repair. Scheduling. Organizing. Advocating. blah blah blah blah.
Granted there are definitely a few things that are great. There is a sense of independence and a freedom in a sense. But really, I miss having dinner made for me all the time. I miss having the time to go for walks and dream about what my life will be like without any of the hardships of reality. I miss having that firm confidence of knowing where you are going and how it will happen. There is a certain raw ambition to it.
So, all I'm saying is don't grow up too fast.
Appreciate your family and friends.
Suck all the youth you can out of life.
Kisses,
Mariah
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BxbJmMMq0A4
Saturday, November 10, 2012
On the topic of hobbies and self-improvement
Life is busy right now. I am teaching a lot, band is sucking up a large portion of my time as are my friends and Marlyn. For the most part I'm not salty about it, although there are classes and band events I should sure do without... The thing is, I want to have hobbies.
I used to have time to read and research things that interested me. I learned a few songs on guitar. I got lost in novels for hours. I could bike ride a lot and thing about life and philosophy. I miss these things. I want these things back. I really love the people in my life and am grateful for all of them, but dammit sometimes I want to do things for just myself and for no greater purpose. I used to be so in touch with that side of me and I miss it.
That's my deal and I really hope I find a way to incorporate that soon.
Peace and blessings :-)
Monday, October 15, 2012
Ooops, I forgot I had this....
Oh herro there,
I kind of forgot about this blog- I always think "Oh I should blog about that" or "Oh man, that would be great to share with people" but I never really get around to sitting down and doing it.
Here's a quick update:
I made TBDBITL- not bad for a kid who never marched in high school. It has been the most stressful but most rewarding experience of my collegiate career so far. For someone who lacks a bit of self-confidence at times, it has been hard to keep on putting myself out there every day. I can feel myself getting better though, and that improvement has kept me going. Between this and learning how to teach, I have been forced to remain patient with myself on this journey, and have struggled with understanding that I shouldn't be perfect at everything. Life is a process.
Hot damn, that is hard to get sometimes.
I'm getting amped up to student teach- right now I'm teaching once a week at Gahanna and whitehall in general music and (believe it or not) 6th grade flute. God help me.
It's strange to think ahead of how my life will be in about 9 months, where I will be getting a job and where I will be moving. I do indeed have some control issues and the fact that I don't know where I'll be irks me a lot. Nevertheless, I'm trying to embrace it. YOLO.
Anyways, love you all. I'm sure I will find time to write here more often.
Go do something fun. Also, jump in a pile of leaves for me. Kthanksbye.
Monday, June 25, 2012
That awkward moment when you realize your sense of humor is actually just really creepy to people who don't know you well. Por ejemplo:
Instead of waving and shouting goodbye to friends you know ok but not well, you just put on a drugged up smile, cock your head to the side, and raise your hand like you're going to wave but you don't actually move. I call this the possessed ventriloquist. Sure to ensure none of those people want to be in public with you ever again!
Whoops....
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Twice in one day- DAYUMMMMMMM
Go see Brave. You know, the Disney Pixar movie.
Also, just a thought- How do we let others know it is OK to be vulnerable and that we accept them for who they are without leaving ourselves too exposed? How do we not give away too much of our own power and cross our own boundaries?
Just a thought.
GOODNIGHT! Sweet dreams :-)
Mariah
The Times, They are A-Changing.
Life changes. This is a fact. I used to pride myself on being able to change with it, to adapt to every situation I could possibly find myself in. I used to think that if I changed myself enough and I became smarter, dumber, prettier, more independant, more clingy, etc, then I wouldn't have to leave people and they wouldn't leave me. But alas, this is not how the world works.
Change happens, whether we want it to or not. The power comes from choosing to be our best and truest selves through every situation. We must actively chose to live the lives we want to live. (a little redundant there).
I have lost 2 grandparents and a dog this year to death. Now my best friend is headed to Africa for two years. Even dynamics in relationships change with time. Every time I feel like I catch my breath something else happens.
But for the first time I can finally hear that voice saying,"What about me?" Times will always change, and there will always be things that are out of our control. The world is alive, ebbing and flowing, and it always will be.
In the midst of the chaos I hear,
"Who do you want to be?
Where do you want to go?
Who do you want to love?
How can you surround yourself with happiness right here and right now?"
These are the questions leading me to my own happiness, peace, and calm. And I'm finding that my own path and truth is much more rewarding that trying to please everyone. Cause I have a right to be here dammit.
Maybe this sounds very simple to everyone, but it's been a hard journey to really understand this concept.
Alright, time for breakfast and the Brady Bunch.
KISSES,
Mariah
PS: I am officially obsessed with Downton Abbey. Get into it.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
Sorry it's been so long since the last post- my computer is fried so getting access to a computer when I actually feel like writing is pretty hard. But nevertheless, here I am on this beautiful sunny day, sitting in the MIDI Lab and writing.
I have experienced a lot of change in the past two years or so, and I'm learning that it takes a positive attitude every day to really make the life I want to see. But I think that I'm finally starting to stabilize.
I've recently been entranced by this movie, "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close". I read the book too and suggest it for everyone, but for some reason the movie is really hitting home for me.
I first saw it right after my grandma died. That night, I went with Stephanie to the lake and just screamed. I was angry at life, at how lost I was, at the fact that Grandma Joan was gone. But that was the start of something for me. I finally started getting my emotions out of me instead of holding them in and letting them poison me.
I saw the movie two other times, but last week I saw it for a fourth time with Jena. The movie had suddenly taken on a completely different meaning for me. I no longer saw just the hurt, anger, and confusion that Oskar felt. I didn't just feel like I identified with the lost little boy who was trying to make sense of things. Instead, I saw the love.
Life happens. Shit happens. Everyone in this world has baggage of some kind, has lost something or someone. Everyone has experienced hardship. If that is all we focus on, we lose perspective on why we are really here- love. Through hardships, through being lost, we can choose to love. Sometimes this means holding someone close, other times it can mean letting them go and explore on their own. I don't know if this is profound at all, but it was for me. Instead of calculating all the time, what I should keep to myself, rationing my time between other people and myself what if I just chose to love? It's funny how things have started to fall into place since that happened. It's still an every day choice, but the choice is always love of some kind.
For me this is difficult because I fear emotional intimacy. I go through motions well, I can hang out all you want, but when it comes to telling you and showing you how important you are in my life I chicken out. The fear of rejection or abandonment gets to be too much and keeps all the love inside of me. All this time, I thought this hardness in my chest was a bad feeling that was supposed to go away. Now I think that it is the build-up of all of the love I've felt but kept to myself because I was afraid. And the pressure I feel is it finally coming to a head, like some kind of love zit. POP THAT ZIT. Sorry if that was grotesque, but I think it's funny.
On a completely different note, I think I've decided I don't like the word "feminist". If the whole point of feminists is to advocate for equality, why does the term itself make it hyocritical? What about equalist? That's what I am I think. Equality. It's a good thang.
Pop lock and drop it y'all,
Mariah
Monday, March 19, 2012
Alllllllright, I am sorry that this is another angry post. But I am upset.
I spent too much money today on a bunch of self-help books to help recovery from sexual abuse. I won't say who or when the abuse occurred, but I am tired of being quiet about it. Because it's not OK. And I am not OK.
Women in today's society have been taught that you have to work hard to get where you want to go. I am smart, I receive good grades, I can do anything that a man can do. It's true. But I think on this quest to obtain equality something much worse has happened- we have lost the fact that we are strong and powerful BECAUSE we are women, not IN SPITE OF being a woman. Being a female in todays culture is so freaking difficult.
You have to be virtuous and pure.
But you also have to be a freak in the bed.
We have been born with the gift to give birth, but we are constantly battling to have this seen as OUR right and something that is a gift. That is divine and important. WE are the ones that get the final say on how our bodies are used, not the state. I just read an article that said that the Georgia State legislation debated a bill this past week that wanted women to keep their stillborn children inside of them until we go into birth naturally. Like a pig or cow.
Let me restate- the people who introduced this bill think that women should have to keep their dead child inside of them, possibly putting them in physical harm, because it's what swine and bovines do.
DID I MISS SOMETHING???
I am by no means saying that I approve of women going around, getting pregnant from rampant and careless sex, and then getting multiple abortions. But if we have to decide who gets the choice of whether or not the child should be born, #1- there should always be a choice available and #2- it should be left up to the woman. Period. It's her freaking body.
Now this brings us organically to another point- female sexuality and the U.S.A.'s approach to sexuality in general. Iceland has one of the lowest teenage pregnancy rates in the world, as well as one of the lowest consumptions of pornography. You know why? Because teens are supplied with information, contraceptives, and are basically encouraged to be open about their sexuality. Teens are encouraged to explore this facet of their being human and find what works for them, what is erotic for them. They have realistic expectations of sex and are not fed the disgusting, fake, and degrading versions that pornography presents. I'd also like to think that it's kind of like alcohol consumption in other countries in Europe- the more you learn and can appreciate something the more you learn to use it respectfully and responsibly. Cause here's the thing- EVERYONE HAS URGES. Well, most people. If you're asexual, that's fine. But for the rest of us, we are taught that it's almost something to be ashamed of, especially for girls. Masturbation for girls is almost completely unaddressed. For boys we talk about wet dreams, ejaculation, orgasm. For girls we talk about pregnancy. Again, we are not cows and pigs. We have needs, we have a sex drive. And at least for me, I felt like I shouldn't for a very long time. I've been ashamed of my sexuality. And you know where it got me? In Barnes and Noble, buying self-help books because something freaking awful happened to me.
I'm not saying this is everyone's experience but I am tired of feeling like I am somehow not free to be who I am. And if you have comments against these thoughts, please just keep them to yourself. But really, I am getting scared at the polarization that is happening in our country in ever aspect. But where are the women? Haven't men been speaking for us long enough? How many of our toes much be stepped on before we wake up and say, "Wait a freaking second."
I spent too much money today on a bunch of self-help books to help recovery from sexual abuse. I won't say who or when the abuse occurred, but I am tired of being quiet about it. Because it's not OK. And I am not OK.
Women in today's society have been taught that you have to work hard to get where you want to go. I am smart, I receive good grades, I can do anything that a man can do. It's true. But I think on this quest to obtain equality something much worse has happened- we have lost the fact that we are strong and powerful BECAUSE we are women, not IN SPITE OF being a woman. Being a female in todays culture is so freaking difficult.
You have to be virtuous and pure.
But you also have to be a freak in the bed.
We have been born with the gift to give birth, but we are constantly battling to have this seen as OUR right and something that is a gift. That is divine and important. WE are the ones that get the final say on how our bodies are used, not the state. I just read an article that said that the Georgia State legislation debated a bill this past week that wanted women to keep their stillborn children inside of them until we go into birth naturally. Like a pig or cow.
Let me restate- the people who introduced this bill think that women should have to keep their dead child inside of them, possibly putting them in physical harm, because it's what swine and bovines do.
DID I MISS SOMETHING???
I am by no means saying that I approve of women going around, getting pregnant from rampant and careless sex, and then getting multiple abortions. But if we have to decide who gets the choice of whether or not the child should be born, #1- there should always be a choice available and #2- it should be left up to the woman. Period. It's her freaking body.
Now this brings us organically to another point- female sexuality and the U.S.A.'s approach to sexuality in general. Iceland has one of the lowest teenage pregnancy rates in the world, as well as one of the lowest consumptions of pornography. You know why? Because teens are supplied with information, contraceptives, and are basically encouraged to be open about their sexuality. Teens are encouraged to explore this facet of their being human and find what works for them, what is erotic for them. They have realistic expectations of sex and are not fed the disgusting, fake, and degrading versions that pornography presents. I'd also like to think that it's kind of like alcohol consumption in other countries in Europe- the more you learn and can appreciate something the more you learn to use it respectfully and responsibly. Cause here's the thing- EVERYONE HAS URGES. Well, most people. If you're asexual, that's fine. But for the rest of us, we are taught that it's almost something to be ashamed of, especially for girls. Masturbation for girls is almost completely unaddressed. For boys we talk about wet dreams, ejaculation, orgasm. For girls we talk about pregnancy. Again, we are not cows and pigs. We have needs, we have a sex drive. And at least for me, I felt like I shouldn't for a very long time. I've been ashamed of my sexuality. And you know where it got me? In Barnes and Noble, buying self-help books because something freaking awful happened to me.
I'm not saying this is everyone's experience but I am tired of feeling like I am somehow not free to be who I am. And if you have comments against these thoughts, please just keep them to yourself. But really, I am getting scared at the polarization that is happening in our country in ever aspect. But where are the women? Haven't men been speaking for us long enough? How many of our toes much be stepped on before we wake up and say, "Wait a freaking second."
Friday, March 9, 2012
I am having an angry day so bear with me.
Not everything is sex.
Intimacy is not sex. Sex is not intimacy. In an ideal world, sex and intimacy would be connected, but the only source of intimacy in your life is not sex.
The Maori have this practice called hongi. It's a greeting where the nose and forehead of the two people meet and they breathe the same air together. They share the same life force. It isn't a kiss. It isn't a let's sleep together. It's a connection as human beings.
I am so frustrated in the polarization and sexualization of our society. Maybe it has just been my experiences that have caused me to feel confined, and maybe I am the one limiting myself. But if I trust you, whether you are a boy or a girl, it doesn't mean I want to sleep with you. It means I want to connect with you as a human. It means that you mean something to me but it doesn't necessarily mean that I want to date you. In some cases it doesn't mean that I don't. But it shouldn't be a default.
Maybe it's because I wasn't that close with my family for a long time that I felt this way. Maybe it's because I didn't trust people and never got that close to them because of it that I am just figuring this out. All my life I thought one day I would meet a man, he would see all my flaws and all of my beauty and we'd fall madly in love and never be parted again. But it's not like that! I am meant to connect with other people too! I can get to know people and share in their humanness and we can connect but I don't have to fucking sleep with them. God damn. Ugh.
This post may very well be for myself, so I can finally get that. Anyways, I'm gonna go.
Later,
Mariah
Not everything is sex.
Intimacy is not sex. Sex is not intimacy. In an ideal world, sex and intimacy would be connected, but the only source of intimacy in your life is not sex.
The Maori have this practice called hongi. It's a greeting where the nose and forehead of the two people meet and they breathe the same air together. They share the same life force. It isn't a kiss. It isn't a let's sleep together. It's a connection as human beings.
I am so frustrated in the polarization and sexualization of our society. Maybe it has just been my experiences that have caused me to feel confined, and maybe I am the one limiting myself. But if I trust you, whether you are a boy or a girl, it doesn't mean I want to sleep with you. It means I want to connect with you as a human. It means that you mean something to me but it doesn't necessarily mean that I want to date you. In some cases it doesn't mean that I don't. But it shouldn't be a default.
Maybe it's because I wasn't that close with my family for a long time that I felt this way. Maybe it's because I didn't trust people and never got that close to them because of it that I am just figuring this out. All my life I thought one day I would meet a man, he would see all my flaws and all of my beauty and we'd fall madly in love and never be parted again. But it's not like that! I am meant to connect with other people too! I can get to know people and share in their humanness and we can connect but I don't have to fucking sleep with them. God damn. Ugh.
This post may very well be for myself, so I can finally get that. Anyways, I'm gonna go.
Later,
Mariah
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
I Like Today
Today I wore a skirt because I felt like it.
Today the sun was out and it felt fan-freaking-tastic.
Today was the kind of day where I stared up into the blue skies and high-fived trees and I passed by.
Today I spent time with three dear friends
Today I went out of my comfort zone to connect with other people.
Today I got shit done and finished a paper on Project Access. If you don't know what it is, look it up. Asheville, NC. Project Access.
Today I had 2 cups of coffee
Today I woke up to the smell of fresh air and hyacinths. I love hyacinths.
Today I confronted some of my own fears about myself.
Today I was the best me I could be. That is a damn good feeling.
Today the sun was out and it felt fan-freaking-tastic.
Today was the kind of day where I stared up into the blue skies and high-fived trees and I passed by.
Today I spent time with three dear friends
Today I went out of my comfort zone to connect with other people.
Today I got shit done and finished a paper on Project Access. If you don't know what it is, look it up. Asheville, NC. Project Access.
Today I had 2 cups of coffee
Today I woke up to the smell of fresh air and hyacinths. I love hyacinths.
Today I confronted some of my own fears about myself.
Today I was the best me I could be. That is a damn good feeling.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Spring
I am not stereotypically girly in a lot of ways, but I think that the sun and warmth bring this out in me.
I need to tell you all how much I love spring flowers. I mean, I love spring in general. But I am totally CRAZY about spring flowers. Daffodils, tulips, lilies, bluebell, forget-me-nots,
I LOVE CHERRY BLOSSOMS.
I just, I had to tell someone. Everyone. I love them
Sunday, February 26, 2012
What a week. There has been a lot of growth, or at least a lot of uncovery. It has been a painful week. It has been an emotional week. But it has also been a hopeful week. It's funny to me how sometimes the most painful of moments can leave us with the hope that it will get better from here. At least there is now a name to the suffering.
I had a dream, an awful dream on Thursday night. I had a dream that Grandma Joan was still living but she was in the nursing home and I had to go see her before she died. I left for Michigan because for some reason that's where she was, but for the life I of me I couldn't find her! The sun was out and I found my other grandma but I couldn't relax. I felt awful because I knew I was running out of time and if I couldn't find her I would never get to see her again. I woke up feeling sad and panicked. She was gone and I couldn't find her.
I was then walking to class and the song "He Lives in You" from the Lion King came on my iPod. Maybe it's a dumb thing to have trigger this reaction, but I found a lot of comfort from it. It was something that I found in Drums Downtown last night too- organized chaos. We are all connected. We may not move parallel to each other, we may be finding different patterns in our own lives, but my grandma will always live on in me because of the things we shared and because we loved each other. There are some things that I wish didn't happen to me that will always be a part of me too, things that I'd rather not talk about but that are causing me a lot of pain. But they are a part of me whether I run from them or face them. So I face them, I incorporate them into who I am because they always will be.
I think when I was younger I had this false notion that I would remain unscathed by life, that I would live purely and according to what I wanted. But life isn't like that- there are forced at work bigger than us. And really, to love another person in any capacity is to leave yourself vulnerable to their influence. But I think that's what life is about- we have to open ourselves up to the people around us. We impact them, they impact us. In this way our life isn't about money or our degree, it is about how we grow and learn. It is about how we learn the path to love and find our way back to it no matter what happens to us. Love is always a choice, but it is at the root of who we are. We are love, and our fear is the only thing that keeps us from that love. Now, sometimes you have shit to work through to get back to the love. I'm there right now- SO MUCH SHIT TO WORK THROUGH- but I know that if I face my fear, my fear of "I can't handle it", that I will find my way back to love. Because that's my destiny. That's all of our destinies.
“Love is what we are born with. Fear is what we learn. The spiritual journey is the unlearning of fear and prejudices and the acceptance of love back in our hearts. Love is the essential reality and our purpose on earth. To be consciously aware of it, to experience love in ourselves and others, is the meaning of life. Meaning does not lie in things. Meaning lies in us.”
― Marianne Williamson
I had a dream, an awful dream on Thursday night. I had a dream that Grandma Joan was still living but she was in the nursing home and I had to go see her before she died. I left for Michigan because for some reason that's where she was, but for the life I of me I couldn't find her! The sun was out and I found my other grandma but I couldn't relax. I felt awful because I knew I was running out of time and if I couldn't find her I would never get to see her again. I woke up feeling sad and panicked. She was gone and I couldn't find her.
I was then walking to class and the song "He Lives in You" from the Lion King came on my iPod. Maybe it's a dumb thing to have trigger this reaction, but I found a lot of comfort from it. It was something that I found in Drums Downtown last night too- organized chaos. We are all connected. We may not move parallel to each other, we may be finding different patterns in our own lives, but my grandma will always live on in me because of the things we shared and because we loved each other. There are some things that I wish didn't happen to me that will always be a part of me too, things that I'd rather not talk about but that are causing me a lot of pain. But they are a part of me whether I run from them or face them. So I face them, I incorporate them into who I am because they always will be.
I think when I was younger I had this false notion that I would remain unscathed by life, that I would live purely and according to what I wanted. But life isn't like that- there are forced at work bigger than us. And really, to love another person in any capacity is to leave yourself vulnerable to their influence. But I think that's what life is about- we have to open ourselves up to the people around us. We impact them, they impact us. In this way our life isn't about money or our degree, it is about how we grow and learn. It is about how we learn the path to love and find our way back to it no matter what happens to us. Love is always a choice, but it is at the root of who we are. We are love, and our fear is the only thing that keeps us from that love. Now, sometimes you have shit to work through to get back to the love. I'm there right now- SO MUCH SHIT TO WORK THROUGH- but I know that if I face my fear, my fear of "I can't handle it", that I will find my way back to love. Because that's my destiny. That's all of our destinies.
“Love is what we are born with. Fear is what we learn. The spiritual journey is the unlearning of fear and prejudices and the acceptance of love back in our hearts. Love is the essential reality and our purpose on earth. To be consciously aware of it, to experience love in ourselves and others, is the meaning of life. Meaning does not lie in things. Meaning lies in us.”
― Marianne Williamson
Monday, February 13, 2012
Anger
I should be working on this giant project that is due tomorrow but instead I am dark swirly. Instead the most appealing concept to me irght now is filling up my gas tank and just running, running away from everyone and everything. Everything just gets so overwhelming sometimes and I can't focus.
I went to this place called the New Salem Baptist Church on Sunday and the sermon was on anger and how our society doesn't teach us how to utilize our anger properly. We are taught that it's a sin and that getting angry is wrong. We swallow is up and hold it inside of us and wait for it to explode. It always does, and when it does it's rarely at what you're actually upset about.
I am angry at this 66o project. I am angry at the people around me. I am angry at myself, that I don't know what direction to go.
I am angry that being angry as a woman is seen as unfeminine. I am angry at so many personal relationships. I am angry at myself for all of the times that I let my fear conquer me. I am angry that I don't know what's wrong with me and one second I'm having a conversation and the next second something has been triggered in me and all of this poisonous rage is there. It's always there bubbling just under the surface.
I don't know what to do about it- I'm pretty sure I'm giving myself an ulcer. The guy at New Salem said that a main cause of depression is that anger held in and turned inwards. Am I finally unleashing what has been an an entire lifetime of anger?? I don't think I ever learned how to deal with my anger. I always held it in because it got me what I wanted. I got to keep the friend, go to hang with my friends, be in a relationship. I think my fear of being alone always kept my anger at bay- my fear overrode my desire to protect myself. Instead I silenced myself, I swallowed it all up, bite by bite.
I don't know how I'm going to unwind. I just wish at the very core of my being that someone knew what was happening to me so I know that I'm not alone. I just wish someone understood for a split second. Cause, quite frankly, I am kind of scared.
Alright, back to work- real life calls.
I went to this place called the New Salem Baptist Church on Sunday and the sermon was on anger and how our society doesn't teach us how to utilize our anger properly. We are taught that it's a sin and that getting angry is wrong. We swallow is up and hold it inside of us and wait for it to explode. It always does, and when it does it's rarely at what you're actually upset about.
I am angry at this 66o project. I am angry at the people around me. I am angry at myself, that I don't know what direction to go.
I am angry that being angry as a woman is seen as unfeminine. I am angry at so many personal relationships. I am angry at myself for all of the times that I let my fear conquer me. I am angry that I don't know what's wrong with me and one second I'm having a conversation and the next second something has been triggered in me and all of this poisonous rage is there. It's always there bubbling just under the surface.
I don't know what to do about it- I'm pretty sure I'm giving myself an ulcer. The guy at New Salem said that a main cause of depression is that anger held in and turned inwards. Am I finally unleashing what has been an an entire lifetime of anger?? I don't think I ever learned how to deal with my anger. I always held it in because it got me what I wanted. I got to keep the friend, go to hang with my friends, be in a relationship. I think my fear of being alone always kept my anger at bay- my fear overrode my desire to protect myself. Instead I silenced myself, I swallowed it all up, bite by bite.
I don't know how I'm going to unwind. I just wish at the very core of my being that someone knew what was happening to me so I know that I'm not alone. I just wish someone understood for a split second. Cause, quite frankly, I am kind of scared.
Alright, back to work- real life calls.
Monday, February 6, 2012
I miss Grandma Joan a lot.
It's weird because I didn't think about how much a part of my life she was until she was gone. I really did think about her almost every day because the things she gave me to watch over me litter my room. My rosary, a book, a little wooden picture of Mary and Jesus.
The rosary is on my bed stand and has lived there for years. Whenever I feel sad or absolutely alone or scared I reach for it. I guess I can still do that, and I still get some comfort from it but it makes me really sad to think she's not around anymore. It's really hard to think about how there will be no more memories formed from the two of us spending time together. I realize that she was human and that she had flaws but for me she became such a symbol of unconditional love and support. She was always there, she was always visitable. I was always in her heart, and there was always someone out there who loved me.
I just miss her a lot I guess, miss her singing and the days where she would drink Manhattans.
It'll be OK, these are just some thoughts that have been going through my head and then I had a dream about her last night that made me need to get this out somewhere.
On the bright side, I'm getting my first private students this week!!! I am so flippin excited to actually TEACH. Bah. This is great.
I'm also taking a modern dance and beginning drawing classes next quarter! Also very excited about that. I like this, "I'm taking charge of my education" thing.
More power to you to make the changes you want to see in your life,
Mariah
It's weird because I didn't think about how much a part of my life she was until she was gone. I really did think about her almost every day because the things she gave me to watch over me litter my room. My rosary, a book, a little wooden picture of Mary and Jesus.
The rosary is on my bed stand and has lived there for years. Whenever I feel sad or absolutely alone or scared I reach for it. I guess I can still do that, and I still get some comfort from it but it makes me really sad to think she's not around anymore. It's really hard to think about how there will be no more memories formed from the two of us spending time together. I realize that she was human and that she had flaws but for me she became such a symbol of unconditional love and support. She was always there, she was always visitable. I was always in her heart, and there was always someone out there who loved me.
I just miss her a lot I guess, miss her singing and the days where she would drink Manhattans.
It'll be OK, these are just some thoughts that have been going through my head and then I had a dream about her last night that made me need to get this out somewhere.
On the bright side, I'm getting my first private students this week!!! I am so flippin excited to actually TEACH. Bah. This is great.
I'm also taking a modern dance and beginning drawing classes next quarter! Also very excited about that. I like this, "I'm taking charge of my education" thing.
More power to you to make the changes you want to see in your life,
Mariah
Friday, February 3, 2012
Number 9....number 9....number 9......
Repetition. It seems to be a constant in my life. There's this weird kind of synchronicity that the universe is humming at that seems to be throwing the same old things my way.
A song on a radio.
A memory.
A smell.
"If you don't know where you're going, any road will get you there."
What. does. that. mean??
I conducted in 66o the other day. The notes that Doc scribbled on the back of the page were,
"Let go.
Make mistakes.
Quit trying to be right."
Why can't I do this?? Why, when so many of the people around me are willing to take risks and I am stuck in myself wondering when I get to join in?
Why can't I get over my fear of failure to create my life to be what I want it to be?
I went for a drive the other night, an hour and a half meander through parts of Columbus I've never seen before. I don't know what made me do it, I felt like I was desperately trying to escape something. It was total dark swirly, with the abyss of the night swallowing me, me sinking into its depths. The trees seemed to claw at me, sucking me into their world, the spaces between the stars.
I have a deeply rooted faith that we all end up alone in the end. Being alone is pretty bad, but I recently had a revelation that my biggest fear is not ending up alone, but to have loved and lost. The quote "Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all." is constantly thrown my way. I can't believe it. I won't believe it. And I don't know why that is- maybe I'm afraid that if I let go of this bitterness that is my shield that I will break. This is something that I've carried my whole life, and try as I might I can't just change my perspective. But sure enough, I keep getting myself into positions where I must face this. I don't even know how to start, and it scares me to think that I might be in this unbalanced limbo position for the rest of my life.
Holly posted a quote that I like a lot, "When one loves, one does not calculate." I want to be love. I want it to overflow to those around me in abundance. I want to be happy. That is my life goal. But I can't let go of my calculations to let that happen.
I can't:
Let go, make mistakes, stop trying to be right.
Here's to better days my friends.
MKH
A song on a radio.
A memory.
A smell.
"If you don't know where you're going, any road will get you there."
What. does. that. mean??
I conducted in 66o the other day. The notes that Doc scribbled on the back of the page were,
"Let go.
Make mistakes.
Quit trying to be right."
Why can't I do this?? Why, when so many of the people around me are willing to take risks and I am stuck in myself wondering when I get to join in?
Why can't I get over my fear of failure to create my life to be what I want it to be?
I went for a drive the other night, an hour and a half meander through parts of Columbus I've never seen before. I don't know what made me do it, I felt like I was desperately trying to escape something. It was total dark swirly, with the abyss of the night swallowing me, me sinking into its depths. The trees seemed to claw at me, sucking me into their world, the spaces between the stars.
I have a deeply rooted faith that we all end up alone in the end. Being alone is pretty bad, but I recently had a revelation that my biggest fear is not ending up alone, but to have loved and lost. The quote "Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all." is constantly thrown my way. I can't believe it. I won't believe it. And I don't know why that is- maybe I'm afraid that if I let go of this bitterness that is my shield that I will break. This is something that I've carried my whole life, and try as I might I can't just change my perspective. But sure enough, I keep getting myself into positions where I must face this. I don't even know how to start, and it scares me to think that I might be in this unbalanced limbo position for the rest of my life.
Holly posted a quote that I like a lot, "When one loves, one does not calculate." I want to be love. I want it to overflow to those around me in abundance. I want to be happy. That is my life goal. But I can't let go of my calculations to let that happen.
I can't:
Let go, make mistakes, stop trying to be right.
Here's to better days my friends.
MKH
Monday, January 16, 2012
There Will Be Rest
I have lost 2 grandparents in a month. I always had a hunch that my grandparents were going to go around the same time. It's kind of hard to talk about them collectively because they both meant very different things to me.
My grandpa died around 2 am on the night after Christmas. When I came downstairs that morning and my mom told me that he had passed I had this immense sense of relieve because he had so many health problems and I felt like now he was finally at peace. I don't remember much of my grandfather, he was a very private man and honestly he scared me sometimes. He was 9o when he passed so he was already quite old when I was born and I don't have many memories of him playing with us or anything. I remember he did tickle us all the time when we were little and call us "whipper-snappers" "cuckoo-birds" and "scally-wags". I think that in many ways I get my desire for solitude sometimes from him, my private nature. My distance. When I cried for him at his service I think it was mourning the man the I felt like I never got to know. It's hard to realize that there may have been a chance for me to talk with him, learn about him, and I just didn't. He never made it easy and he sure didn't seem approachable but it's still just sad to think of the connections that I didn't make. He died with my uncle by his side- my uncle said he seemed restless at first but towards the end he seemed peaceful. My favorite memory of Poppi, my grandfather, was how he listened to me practice. He always had a radio on at all times, but after their house burned down a few years ago I was practicing in the house that they temporarily moved into while the other house was being reconstructed. I wasn't playing anything special, just keeping my lip in shape over break. I just remember walking out and my dad coming up to me in the living room and saying, "Poppi was listening to you. He turned his radio off to listen." I don't know why that meant so much to me. Maybe it's because I felt like he was interested, and he was listening to my voice, my vulnerability. Maybe it was because I felt like he was proud of me. Whatever it was, that was a beautiful moment of connection between me and my grandfather. I won't forget that. And I won't forget how he used to change his radio to the classical station when we visited.
My Grandma Joan passed away this morning at 7 am. She suffered a massive stroke this past weekend and was taken to the hospital. They gave her some medication that was supposed to unclot the clot that had caused her stroke. Instead of helping, it made her brain bleed, which in turn put pressure on it to the point where she stopped breathing. They put her on a respirator. Her pupils were fixed in different dilations....she wasn't going to get better. There was no coming back from this. They waited for all of her children to get there, and then they pulled the plug. She died with her 4 children and husband by her side. My Grandma Joan meant a lot to me. My mom got very sick when I was born and it was my Grandma Joan and Poppop that really took care of me during that time because my dad had to work. She would always do nice things for me, slip me money or presents. I was just looking at a book called "42 Gifts I'd Like to Give to You"...she taught me about the rosary and about FAITH. The rosary she gave me for my first holy communion is one of my most treasured possessions. She sang to me. She played with me. She loved me. Her death is hard for me because now I know there is going to be a hole where she was. When she started getting really sick while I was in high school she wrote me a note saying how sorry she was she couldn't make it to my orchestra concerts. I remember crying about it and hugging her. She always said she wanted to outlive her mother, and sure enough she did. Her birthday was on December 2oth, and she went into the hospital about a week later. Then this happened.
Over the break, I went and visited her in the hospital. We talked in a way that we really never talked before. I think to some extent we both had a feeling that this was the last time we would see each other. There was a sweetness and a sincerity in our interaction...I don't know. She was sleeping when I walked in and when she woke up the look in her eyes....I just remember feeling like I was totally and completely loved. I was safe. We talked about my grandpa's funeral, and how Irish Catholics deal with things more emotionally. We talked about Midwest and how I remembered her singing in Lithuanian to me when I was little. She told me a few stories about when she was younger. There was this peace about her.... I don't know how to explain it. It was almost like this gold light I felt around her. I asked her if she was scared at all...she said no. She said she had lived a good life and that she trusted God with whatever was on the other side. After about 45 minutes she was having trouble following conversation and was getting tired so I told her I loved her, kissed her, and said I'll see you in March over spring break.
I still don't know how I'm dealing, right now I think I'm repressing a lot until I get home. You know, people say they're sorry and it helps, but they don't know her. And not to be a douche, but I don't really want to hear other people's stories about how they can relate right now. Normally I am all ears for how they are hurting and looking to help them, but that doesn't help me right now. I want to be with my family more than anything, to talk about Grandma Joan and cry hysterically and laugh about her grouchy moments. I want a hug from my mom and my sister. I want to be able to just mourn. My grandma meant so much to me....as much as I knew this day was coming I was really hoping it wouldn't. I know she is at peace now, but there is this hole now where she used to live. That's hard. That's really freaking hard. I just hope I made it clear how much I loved her. How much I STILL love her and will ALWAYS love her.
I have no grand interpretation of what life means. I have no conclusive thought to bring this all together except that as depressing as death is, it is also very beautiful. It seems to bring out the memories of what you really want to remember and say, "here, take this. Hold onto these moments." I think there is a certain grace in death, a certain otherworldliness at least when the person is old and it is "their time". I just can't believe she's gone.
There will be rest, and sure stars shining
Over the roof-tops crowned with snow,
A reign of rest, serene forgetting,
The music of stillness holy and low.I will make this world of my devising
Out of a dream in my lonely mind.
I shall find the crystal of peace, – above me
Stars I shall find.
My grandpa died around 2 am on the night after Christmas. When I came downstairs that morning and my mom told me that he had passed I had this immense sense of relieve because he had so many health problems and I felt like now he was finally at peace. I don't remember much of my grandfather, he was a very private man and honestly he scared me sometimes. He was 9o when he passed so he was already quite old when I was born and I don't have many memories of him playing with us or anything. I remember he did tickle us all the time when we were little and call us "whipper-snappers" "cuckoo-birds" and "scally-wags". I think that in many ways I get my desire for solitude sometimes from him, my private nature. My distance. When I cried for him at his service I think it was mourning the man the I felt like I never got to know. It's hard to realize that there may have been a chance for me to talk with him, learn about him, and I just didn't. He never made it easy and he sure didn't seem approachable but it's still just sad to think of the connections that I didn't make. He died with my uncle by his side- my uncle said he seemed restless at first but towards the end he seemed peaceful. My favorite memory of Poppi, my grandfather, was how he listened to me practice. He always had a radio on at all times, but after their house burned down a few years ago I was practicing in the house that they temporarily moved into while the other house was being reconstructed. I wasn't playing anything special, just keeping my lip in shape over break. I just remember walking out and my dad coming up to me in the living room and saying, "Poppi was listening to you. He turned his radio off to listen." I don't know why that meant so much to me. Maybe it's because I felt like he was interested, and he was listening to my voice, my vulnerability. Maybe it was because I felt like he was proud of me. Whatever it was, that was a beautiful moment of connection between me and my grandfather. I won't forget that. And I won't forget how he used to change his radio to the classical station when we visited.
My Grandma Joan passed away this morning at 7 am. She suffered a massive stroke this past weekend and was taken to the hospital. They gave her some medication that was supposed to unclot the clot that had caused her stroke. Instead of helping, it made her brain bleed, which in turn put pressure on it to the point where she stopped breathing. They put her on a respirator. Her pupils were fixed in different dilations....she wasn't going to get better. There was no coming back from this. They waited for all of her children to get there, and then they pulled the plug. She died with her 4 children and husband by her side. My Grandma Joan meant a lot to me. My mom got very sick when I was born and it was my Grandma Joan and Poppop that really took care of me during that time because my dad had to work. She would always do nice things for me, slip me money or presents. I was just looking at a book called "42 Gifts I'd Like to Give to You"...she taught me about the rosary and about FAITH. The rosary she gave me for my first holy communion is one of my most treasured possessions. She sang to me. She played with me. She loved me. Her death is hard for me because now I know there is going to be a hole where she was. When she started getting really sick while I was in high school she wrote me a note saying how sorry she was she couldn't make it to my orchestra concerts. I remember crying about it and hugging her. She always said she wanted to outlive her mother, and sure enough she did. Her birthday was on December 2oth, and she went into the hospital about a week later. Then this happened.
Over the break, I went and visited her in the hospital. We talked in a way that we really never talked before. I think to some extent we both had a feeling that this was the last time we would see each other. There was a sweetness and a sincerity in our interaction...I don't know. She was sleeping when I walked in and when she woke up the look in her eyes....I just remember feeling like I was totally and completely loved. I was safe. We talked about my grandpa's funeral, and how Irish Catholics deal with things more emotionally. We talked about Midwest and how I remembered her singing in Lithuanian to me when I was little. She told me a few stories about when she was younger. There was this peace about her.... I don't know how to explain it. It was almost like this gold light I felt around her. I asked her if she was scared at all...she said no. She said she had lived a good life and that she trusted God with whatever was on the other side. After about 45 minutes she was having trouble following conversation and was getting tired so I told her I loved her, kissed her, and said I'll see you in March over spring break.
I still don't know how I'm dealing, right now I think I'm repressing a lot until I get home. You know, people say they're sorry and it helps, but they don't know her. And not to be a douche, but I don't really want to hear other people's stories about how they can relate right now. Normally I am all ears for how they are hurting and looking to help them, but that doesn't help me right now. I want to be with my family more than anything, to talk about Grandma Joan and cry hysterically and laugh about her grouchy moments. I want a hug from my mom and my sister. I want to be able to just mourn. My grandma meant so much to me....as much as I knew this day was coming I was really hoping it wouldn't. I know she is at peace now, but there is this hole now where she used to live. That's hard. That's really freaking hard. I just hope I made it clear how much I loved her. How much I STILL love her and will ALWAYS love her.
I have no grand interpretation of what life means. I have no conclusive thought to bring this all together except that as depressing as death is, it is also very beautiful. It seems to bring out the memories of what you really want to remember and say, "here, take this. Hold onto these moments." I think there is a certain grace in death, a certain otherworldliness at least when the person is old and it is "their time". I just can't believe she's gone.
There will be rest, and sure stars shining
Over the roof-tops crowned with snow,
A reign of rest, serene forgetting,
The music of stillness holy and low.I will make this world of my devising
Out of a dream in my lonely mind.
I shall find the crystal of peace, – above me
Stars I shall find.
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