I've been thinking a lot about this particular blog because of many different "downs" that have occurred - personal mishaps that have made me question perspective. What I feel may be important, and seriously wrong about my day (i.e. traffic jams in the morning and the evening, a cold that hasn't quit, a long day followed by a long class session ... lists can go on). Where does your list start? Where does it end? It's your perspective, you're allowed to confess what disappoints you, what frustrates you.
I guess my face was expressing my emotions earlier this week because a colleague asked me what was wrong. And unfortunately, it was the kind of passive-agressive question that left me feeling guilty about my frustrations, instead of feeling touched by a concerned coworker. Why do we judge others' issues in relation to our own? In relation to the world? A terrible, tragic earthquake shook Haiti two weeks ago, and many were lost. Many still missing. I worked with women from Haiti at my first daycare, and when the event happened, I knew I wanted to reach out to them. I felt compelled as a person who formerly worked with them and befriended them, to reach out. And it was an incredible feeling to do so. I felt connected to something hard they were going through, and then I turned inward to gain control on my perspective about what was bothering me. How could I come home and feel mad about a bad day that encompassed traffic, when I knew where all of my family was? How can I sit at home tonight and write a blog on my wireless internet connection, when there are hundreds of life-saving individuals down in Haiti, all over the world, without so much as a lightbulb to help them aid others?
I don't have the answers to these questions. There will always by cycles of life surrounding us. People are always dying. People are always raising money for great causes. Frivilous spending happens more than I care think about. People are always choosing to do what's right for them. The last statement is the best way I can sum up my feelings about perspective. Think about the quote "beauty is in the eye of the beholder." What if you swap out "beauty" for "perspective?" When someone asks you to "gain some perspective" is that an underminding way of that person to make you feel lousy? Why does "gaining" perspective cause so much guilt? Bad things happen to us, in small and large capacities. The strength of the demise can be shaped by our emotional and physical health. Whatever happens to you, happens to YOU. It can't be helped to feel like you're at your wits end sometimes. Just remember that it does get better. Life fluctuates so that we stay healthy. If we remained rigid, permanently happy, permanently guilty, we would break.
I don't want to break. I don't want to conform. I just want my perspective to be my own. For yours to be yours. I guess I'm not sure what do with perspective yet. But I can hold out. There will always be situations to make me feel like I should look back and question.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
pretty woman
"The bad stuff is easier to believe. You ever notice that?"
Though I find this can be true, the positives do make their way in and stick around as long as they can make you feel better. It's been two weeks in the classroom at the new center, and I feel sick. Not sick of it, but sick: ill, queasy, and not used to the germs and mishaps that most kids have this time of year. If you've never worked with or had children of your own, let me tell you, their little noses run a lot. You know, the cute noses that turn that bright shade of pink when they romp in the snow and on the playground? Those noses. The noses that squirm and twitch and react to a sneeze that they didn't know was coming until it literally hit them square in the face - and probably all over you. Yes, these noses of which I am proud to again be around, and aim to keep dry, these noses have made me feel ill. Any teacher or parent will go through this immunization, and that's why I know this "bad stuff" will get better. I will take care of myself as best I can, and I will get over this headache that's always just present enough to remind me that I have one. But for now, this bad stuff really is just easier to acknowledge, since it's keeping me up at night and tired during the day and all...
Otherwise, work is going well. I work with a good core group of teachers, most who have been at the center long enough to become friends, but not so long that they're leaving me out :) There's a learning curve with any job to understand your new responsibilities. But working with children, families, and caregivers combined? That's a whole new set of drama and learning curves to be figured out. And I know, it would have been in my best interest to remind myself of that catty banter among women upon women upon women - I did grow up with 3 sisters and worked at 2 other daycare centers - but there's a hope that when you enter the working world that all of that irrationality, gossip, and just plain spitefulness will disappear. Let's just say that the group of women I work with are like any other, they talk, and they talk honestly! I mean, okay, who doesn't mind getting a little inter-center news from their coworkers now and again...at least for now, I'm try to simply nod and smile, and act as a sounding board. Everyone has their needs to vent, and I will always try to be a safe place for that to happen - even when I do it for myself in the car on the way home!
Class has also begun. I'm taking a Psychology course this semester (how convenient with a new job), and I hope the class will guide me to a new future of schooling, eventually leading to graduate school and whatever career I find gives my life and soul the most purpose. I admit, I never thought I would be a "career-oriented woman," in the simplest of terms. I felt like family was the only job I would ever know. And that may be the case for a while, raising our children and keeping house. Actually, I know this is the case, and have been promised by Mike that my dreams of being a stay-at home mom for some time will be expected. But I find conflict with this truth and other day-to-day anxieties that stream in from the exterior: When will I have my Master's Degree? What field do I wish to pursue? What kind of long-term goals am I making professionally to show that I am a committed employee? All of these questions and I must find answers; so, I sign up for classes, and swear to study for the GREs and move forward.
There's no room to believe that I have just one purpose. Motherhood. Career. Wife. Friend. Cook. Traveler. Blogger? There is no one direction in which my life will be lead. Certain fortunes will appear and all of these roles will meld together, in whichever fashion that I find most pleasant and wholesome for me. When Vivian tells Edward that the bad stuff is easier to believe, it comes from her experiences where she was told no, and that she wasn't good enough. I refuse to accept I am not good enough. But it can be easier to believe for a time that this is true, when my life is compared to someone else's. "Belief," the word itself, can be defined as: upholding a firm conviction based on the goodness or ability of something. I am good and able. I am maleable, and as something so flexible, I am everchanging. So I know that there will be days I will feel for better or for worse, depending on the belief surrounding me or within me.
I am just glad to be in a place in my life, and by that I mean a quarter-life stage, that permits me to question, and to question my beliefs. For I would rather have resolve some inquiries before I do fulfill more of my future roles. I am lucky to have two parents that believe in me. And I have parents I work for that believe in my care for their children. I work hard, and work harder to study well. I love and I give to whatever means the most for me. I want to absorb all the confidence in my life now, so that I can exude it for the children I work with, and those I have yet to meet. There will be reason for my life, and I will not stop believing in that.
Though I find this can be true, the positives do make their way in and stick around as long as they can make you feel better. It's been two weeks in the classroom at the new center, and I feel sick. Not sick of it, but sick: ill, queasy, and not used to the germs and mishaps that most kids have this time of year. If you've never worked with or had children of your own, let me tell you, their little noses run a lot. You know, the cute noses that turn that bright shade of pink when they romp in the snow and on the playground? Those noses. The noses that squirm and twitch and react to a sneeze that they didn't know was coming until it literally hit them square in the face - and probably all over you. Yes, these noses of which I am proud to again be around, and aim to keep dry, these noses have made me feel ill. Any teacher or parent will go through this immunization, and that's why I know this "bad stuff" will get better. I will take care of myself as best I can, and I will get over this headache that's always just present enough to remind me that I have one. But for now, this bad stuff really is just easier to acknowledge, since it's keeping me up at night and tired during the day and all...
Otherwise, work is going well. I work with a good core group of teachers, most who have been at the center long enough to become friends, but not so long that they're leaving me out :) There's a learning curve with any job to understand your new responsibilities. But working with children, families, and caregivers combined? That's a whole new set of drama and learning curves to be figured out. And I know, it would have been in my best interest to remind myself of that catty banter among women upon women upon women - I did grow up with 3 sisters and worked at 2 other daycare centers - but there's a hope that when you enter the working world that all of that irrationality, gossip, and just plain spitefulness will disappear. Let's just say that the group of women I work with are like any other, they talk, and they talk honestly! I mean, okay, who doesn't mind getting a little inter-center news from their coworkers now and again...at least for now, I'm try to simply nod and smile, and act as a sounding board. Everyone has their needs to vent, and I will always try to be a safe place for that to happen - even when I do it for myself in the car on the way home!
Class has also begun. I'm taking a Psychology course this semester (how convenient with a new job), and I hope the class will guide me to a new future of schooling, eventually leading to graduate school and whatever career I find gives my life and soul the most purpose. I admit, I never thought I would be a "career-oriented woman," in the simplest of terms. I felt like family was the only job I would ever know. And that may be the case for a while, raising our children and keeping house. Actually, I know this is the case, and have been promised by Mike that my dreams of being a stay-at home mom for some time will be expected. But I find conflict with this truth and other day-to-day anxieties that stream in from the exterior: When will I have my Master's Degree? What field do I wish to pursue? What kind of long-term goals am I making professionally to show that I am a committed employee? All of these questions and I must find answers; so, I sign up for classes, and swear to study for the GREs and move forward.
There's no room to believe that I have just one purpose. Motherhood. Career. Wife. Friend. Cook. Traveler. Blogger? There is no one direction in which my life will be lead. Certain fortunes will appear and all of these roles will meld together, in whichever fashion that I find most pleasant and wholesome for me. When Vivian tells Edward that the bad stuff is easier to believe, it comes from her experiences where she was told no, and that she wasn't good enough. I refuse to accept I am not good enough. But it can be easier to believe for a time that this is true, when my life is compared to someone else's. "Belief," the word itself, can be defined as: upholding a firm conviction based on the goodness or ability of something. I am good and able. I am maleable, and as something so flexible, I am everchanging. So I know that there will be days I will feel for better or for worse, depending on the belief surrounding me or within me.
I am just glad to be in a place in my life, and by that I mean a quarter-life stage, that permits me to question, and to question my beliefs. For I would rather have resolve some inquiries before I do fulfill more of my future roles. I am lucky to have two parents that believe in me. And I have parents I work for that believe in my care for their children. I work hard, and work harder to study well. I love and I give to whatever means the most for me. I want to absorb all the confidence in my life now, so that I can exude it for the children I work with, and those I have yet to meet. There will be reason for my life, and I will not stop believing in that.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
exception proves the rule
"They say home is where the heart is ..."
... so where does this leave me?
Happy New Year, by the way! Hopefully the first line there doesn't catch anybody off guard, or make it seem as if I'm sad about wishing I could be in 2 or 3 places at once. Christmas in Maine. It was just as it should have been. It actually proved to be more than wonderful, considering our parents hosting 7 others was seamless and joyous! It was such a treat to sit together on Christmas night and giggle at Mom who had to end up leaving the table with happy tears in her eyes, finally surrounded by all her immediate family, who were home for the holidays. Too cute.
The "others," as we labeled them for the weekend, enjoyed their newly-made stockings, and could only get away with rolling their eyes a couple of times at our quirky family traditions and "clique-esque" attitude. I hope it just made the three of them feel more included - we Michel's don't always know how weird we're acting, so we just assume anybody with us will act the same! (This may or may not be in direct reference to our first night home: 9 out to dinner at a big public restaurant, all of us loudly conversing, gallivanting amongst our beers and cheers.) Honestly, the entire weekend was a superb end to the festive season and really, to 2009.
Driving away from Maine, then, seemed a little more than strange and sad this time around. We had been involved in such good company, and I felt like my heartstrings were still tied up in the Christmas lights, yet Mike and I continued towards our home, where my heart also lies. I think that's why they call it heartache: because although there may be just one organ, the infinite love inside leaves little pieces of itself whereever you travel and share time with those who mean the most to you. It ached me so to leave my parents, my sisters, my dog and house; I ached to get back to the place I was trying to make my own.
Three days of work later, and it was another long weekend. (By the way, when's the next one?) On New Year's Eve I said goodbye, again, to a job I had been at for 10 months. It was meant to be interim, but the friendships made there will hopefully last far longer than my hours worked. It was a final separation from 2009, a definitive move into the new decade.
We headed up to Allentown to spend the 2010 celebration with a couple of friends. They had received much more snow than us in the week prior, so we were able to shoot off fireworks and sparklers that didn't need any extra glow other than the white blanket on the ground. The next day we simply hung out, relaxed, and met the new year with an utmost sense of calm. And while I don't usually make resolutions, I can only hope that future New Year celebrations would result in the same sense of tranquility and openess.
A heart in Maine, a heart in PA, a heart among friends. What of a new job? Would I find heart there? For the same childcare company I had worked for ten months ago, I began with them again this past Monday. It's amazing what you don't realize your heart is missing until it picks up the pieces where they were left. As mentioned, I found good companionship and value in the job I had made for myself while living in Pennsylvania so far. But, it was on this past Wednesday morning, when I was able to get in a toddler classroom again, that all the sentiments and joys of working with young children came flooding back to my veins. I do not believe that for my life, teaching is the goal. I offer up all of my gratitude and appreciation for what good teachers do every day of their careers. It's not for me. But the chance to work with kids again, to be watching them experience some of their first big moments (walking, speaking), that is something I don't believe I will ever tire of. Their first realizations that they exist, that their feelings matter, it's a unique time to be around them. More importantly, you realize how good it you had it when someone knocking over your block tower was the saddest part of your day. I would give anything for a two hour nap right now.
The heart is such a unique aspect of our being. Its primary functions may not be to commemorate, laugh or cry. But it does. All memories of our past and the riches we discover today are felt by our heart, and when we feel such things so profoundly, the heart really says it all. I have left pieces of it in different places, and for different people. Some people have taken advantage of my heart. But today, I am happy for its diffusion amidst my life experiences, I can recall on them whenever I want. I just use my heart to help me remember.
... so where does this leave me?
Happy New Year, by the way! Hopefully the first line there doesn't catch anybody off guard, or make it seem as if I'm sad about wishing I could be in 2 or 3 places at once. Christmas in Maine. It was just as it should have been. It actually proved to be more than wonderful, considering our parents hosting 7 others was seamless and joyous! It was such a treat to sit together on Christmas night and giggle at Mom who had to end up leaving the table with happy tears in her eyes, finally surrounded by all her immediate family, who were home for the holidays. Too cute.
The "others," as we labeled them for the weekend, enjoyed their newly-made stockings, and could only get away with rolling their eyes a couple of times at our quirky family traditions and "clique-esque" attitude. I hope it just made the three of them feel more included - we Michel's don't always know how weird we're acting, so we just assume anybody with us will act the same! (This may or may not be in direct reference to our first night home: 9 out to dinner at a big public restaurant, all of us loudly conversing, gallivanting amongst our beers and cheers.) Honestly, the entire weekend was a superb end to the festive season and really, to 2009.
Driving away from Maine, then, seemed a little more than strange and sad this time around. We had been involved in such good company, and I felt like my heartstrings were still tied up in the Christmas lights, yet Mike and I continued towards our home, where my heart also lies. I think that's why they call it heartache: because although there may be just one organ, the infinite love inside leaves little pieces of itself whereever you travel and share time with those who mean the most to you. It ached me so to leave my parents, my sisters, my dog and house; I ached to get back to the place I was trying to make my own.
Three days of work later, and it was another long weekend. (By the way, when's the next one?) On New Year's Eve I said goodbye, again, to a job I had been at for 10 months. It was meant to be interim, but the friendships made there will hopefully last far longer than my hours worked. It was a final separation from 2009, a definitive move into the new decade.
We headed up to Allentown to spend the 2010 celebration with a couple of friends. They had received much more snow than us in the week prior, so we were able to shoot off fireworks and sparklers that didn't need any extra glow other than the white blanket on the ground. The next day we simply hung out, relaxed, and met the new year with an utmost sense of calm. And while I don't usually make resolutions, I can only hope that future New Year celebrations would result in the same sense of tranquility and openess.
A heart in Maine, a heart in PA, a heart among friends. What of a new job? Would I find heart there? For the same childcare company I had worked for ten months ago, I began with them again this past Monday. It's amazing what you don't realize your heart is missing until it picks up the pieces where they were left. As mentioned, I found good companionship and value in the job I had made for myself while living in Pennsylvania so far. But, it was on this past Wednesday morning, when I was able to get in a toddler classroom again, that all the sentiments and joys of working with young children came flooding back to my veins. I do not believe that for my life, teaching is the goal. I offer up all of my gratitude and appreciation for what good teachers do every day of their careers. It's not for me. But the chance to work with kids again, to be watching them experience some of their first big moments (walking, speaking), that is something I don't believe I will ever tire of. Their first realizations that they exist, that their feelings matter, it's a unique time to be around them. More importantly, you realize how good it you had it when someone knocking over your block tower was the saddest part of your day. I would give anything for a two hour nap right now.
The heart is such a unique aspect of our being. Its primary functions may not be to commemorate, laugh or cry. But it does. All memories of our past and the riches we discover today are felt by our heart, and when we feel such things so profoundly, the heart really says it all. I have left pieces of it in different places, and for different people. Some people have taken advantage of my heart. But today, I am happy for its diffusion amidst my life experiences, I can recall on them whenever I want. I just use my heart to help me remember.
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