Home away from home…

ImageThis is where all the magic happens! It’s my little sanctuary away from home. It’s my desk at work. As I’ve mentioned before, I love what I do. This little space helps me to focus and concentrate on the task at hand. There is lots to be said about loving your job. We spend anywhere between eight and ten hours a day (some of us even more) at our jobs on a daily basis.

Desk 2 Every morning I start my day with a hot cup of black tea with milk and a bowl of gluten-free Qia with slivered almonds, cranberries and fresh blueberries while I review the tasks list that I created the night before. I’ll then go over any emails that I didn’t have a chance to answer the night before or that morning from home. The rest of the day is usually pretty chaotic. I get interrupted quite a bit to look into unexpected issues throughout the office but it’s to be expected for what I do. It’s par for the course. I don’t mind it.

Desk 3

I swear this depicts me to the tee!

Several factors attribute to whether you can love and appreciate where you work and what you’re working towards. I genuinely admire and respect the people I work for and work with. I work in a very creative environment but what makes it so agreeable is that everyone works together for the purpose of the same goal and outcome. That eliminates the strain that comes with internal competition. Everyone has clearly defined roles. I think that significantly attributes to the uncompetitive atmosphere.

We all know what we need to do and what to do to get it done. When in doubt, there is an entire team to turn to that is readily and willing available to help. Obviously, not all is peachy, rosy and koombaya-ish at all times. There are days that can be quite challenging. Issues do arise. People do disagree and egos flare in the prospect of being wounded. It happens at my office as it does in every office in the world. You know you love your place of work if even after an argument has ensued that remains the one place where you ultimately want to be no matter what.

Desk 4

I borrowed this image from someone’s blog. I fell in love with it as soon as I saw it.

I’ve worked in a place before where I dreaded driving to in the morning. Sunday evenings I went into a terrible funk. A lump would automatically form in my throat at the thought of having to deal with certain people the following day. There is no more miserable feeling than the feeling of entrapment, frustration and disappointment; primarily in oneself. I didn’t want to be in that situation and so I made it my goal to change it. I’m writing this to share with you how fortunate I now feel to really enjoy what I do for a living. But maybe in my writing it, you are reading it because it’ll serve for you as the catalyst that will help you to be a bit more introspective and make you think about your current situation. Or maybe it’ll serve as a reminder as to just how fortunate you are to feel as lucky as I am.

Are you happy at work? Are you happy with what you’re doing? Did you pick the right career? Do you feel you live with a purpose? Do you have something better in mind? Do you have a plan?

Uuuugghh…aaaarrrggg…mental constipation!

writers-block2I am frustrated. I have a serious case of Writersblockittis. I have been trying for two days now to write a paper for my World History class  and I have spent the last two nights trying to finish my next blog post. It’s about relationships; not my strong point. I am stuck!

I am trying to be as sensitive as possible. The last thing I want to do is accidentally offend somebody by saying the wrong thing. Anyway, this is where I’m at. Feel free to shoot me some thoughts to motivate and inspire me. I need all the help I can get. Thanks guys!!Image

Blog…don’t preach!

I absolutely love bloggers! And do you want to know why? Because bloggers focus on talking about themselves. They share great stories, interesting experiences, really cool photos, arts and crafts, and delicious recipes. They mind their own. They’ll talk about how they feel, what they’re going through, where they’ve travelled, how intricate a process for love bloggingsomething was or what their hopes and dreams are for the future. But RARELY do I see a post that starts with “Human beings need to be more aware of…”, “If only I could make you understand…”, “One must learn…”, “You should embrace a more reasonable attitude…”

Facebookers on the other hand (I’m not sure that’s an actual term yet), or at least most Facebookers, take it upon themselves to shower us with constant unsolicited life advice wise beyond our years. The irony of it is that usually the people that post these fascinating nuggets of wisdom are typically disappointed with where their lives have led. There is a bit of relief in dispensing noteworthy knowledge. It gives the preacher a false sense of control. I too have been guilty of this at some point in my life. That’s why I can confirm it and therefore, can speak freely. It is because of all this unsought advice that I have temporarily closed my FB account on numerous occasions. I personally have never been the recipient of the advice but it becomes annoying nonetheless. Some Facebookers are persistent if nothing else. One would think that if they saw that a message wasn’t getting through with the first six attempts then there wouldn’t be a need for another six. One would be wrong to think that what is logical for one person is logical for another. I’ve thought about why there seems to be a need to continue unremittingly spewing life advice  and then it dawned on me…

Preach, preach, preach, preach, preach…and with preaching comes an inevitable insurmountable surge of judgment. Alas! We have stumbled upon the real reason for which one provides unsought advice. Preaching is a more subtle way of passing judgment. Offering advice is a more subtle way of preaching.  And no, age does not necessarily make one wiser. JudgmentNeither does it necessarily go hand in hand with wisdom in general. One’s experiences are one’s own. Everyone learns in different ways and will take away from each experience a distinctive message; this is a psychological and sociological fact. No amount of preaching is going to teach anyone how to see or feel about something until they personally live through it. I know many younger folks that are very wise because they have lived and experienced far more than any adult around them. Personally, I’ve still got lots to learn as do most people, including the people posting the life lessons. But I guarantee you; I will not learn them from someone’s status update on Facebook. Put your life advice and lessons on morality to better use by being a little more introspective.

My actual status update on Facebook from about an hour ago:”

“Nothing more exhausting than constantly reading postings about profound life lessons and deep meaningful spiritual riddles on Facebook. Lighten up people. Life happens. No need to incessantly preach about it. It’s a little redundant. :)

I love writing about MY life on my blog. I talk about my experiences and my experiences alone. I can’t speak for anyone else or presume to know what’s best for people or how one should conduct one’s self. I’m not looking to teach anyone anything or influence them in anyway. Life alone will teach us. I just want you to stop by and visit, not take me too seriously and enjoy! keep it loght

Unexpected but welcomed…

Insomnia and I, we’re kindred spirits. But tonight was a particularly different night. I was jostled by a dream I was making every effort humanly possible to stay asleep long enough to see to the end. I wanted to make sure I wrote it down before I forgot all the details again.Image

It’s a rare recurring dream. I’ve only had it twice before. The first time was shortly after it all ended. The second time was years later. It starts at an exotic location I am completely unfamiliar with but I know it’s home. It’s quiet. It’s remote. I’ve gone there intentionally to be alone. I live in an all glass house with 360 degree views of this breathtaking place. All the glass doors are completely open. I’m sitting on the livingroom floor reading some papers. I’m suddenly distracted. I get up because I can sense something is changing. Like someone has reached the beach. I walk out of the house onto the grassy knoll by the sand’s edge. I can see you in the distance. To my surprise, I am not startled to see you. It’s as if I am always expecting to see you finally find me.

man on beach You’re walking slowly and pensively. You look up at the house. We see spot each other and there is a brief pause almost as if asking for permission to get closer. I’m expressionless but full of elation and expectation. I go back inside the house and sit on the livingroom floor again. Waiting. A bit later you walk up to the porch that wraps around the house and walk through the door directly in front of me. The sunset has rolled in behind you. I can’t see your face but I don’t have to. I know it’s you. We don’t say anything. Nothing needs to be said. There is quiet. There is stillness. There is peace. There is certainty. There is wholeness.  quiet

I close all the glass doors and look out for a minute realizing then that I can finally enjoy the scenery now without always looking for you in the background. You’re here…with me.

I wake up.

I know I said I wasn’t going to talk about love…well I lied.

I recently started a somewhat silly and informal countdown towards Valentine’s Day. But someone today asked me to find the gumption to write about something truly meaningful. He challenged me to write about the one thing that he knows makes me truly uncomfortable; love. Anyone who knows me, knows I struggle with talking about feelings and especially those that are romantic, cutesy or corny in nature. The sheer mention of it makes my skin cringe. Feelings should come naturally but kept private in my opinion.

Image

The elephant in the room. (Red elephant very VDay apropos.)

I’ve been this way for so long that I honestly don’t know if I have always been this way or if I simply have selective memory. My childhood best friend assures me I have definitely always been this way. But she also reminded me of the two times she was surprised to see that someone had been able to tear me down a bit. All people fondly remember their first love. We even idealize the relationship and measure it against all others.  No one will ever mean as much to us as our very first love. The empty stomach, humid palms, heart throbbing, dry mouth feeling that no one can truly explain is glamorized even though it’s clearly not glamorous by description. The high of being in love is like no other. The low of falling out of love is an indescribable pain which I desire on no one.

Image

To say that we can understand another person’s heartache is absolutely inequitable. Everyone’s pain is entirely singular as are the reasons for which we hurt. Break-ups are hard-hitting. But they are especially hard when you never believed in love to begin with, let someone show you otherwise and then have it fall apart. There is a keen sense of failure and disillusionment that comes from giving your all to this concept that you never even believed in to begin with but you wanted more than anything to be proven the contrary. And with it comes an inevitable self-defense mechanism riddled with cynicism that seems to linger much longer than one would like to admit.

Six years later, I decided it was finally time to put it behind me and give the romantic love theory another chance. It didn’t work out. It was rapid, intense, passionate aImagend foolish; essentially explosive. It was an epic failure from the outset. The little faith that I had left in me enough to catapult me into a second attempt had now completely dissipated. My preceding renowned disparagement prior to the second relationship was now the norm. I no longer believe in romantic love or anything that even remotely resembles the view. I’ve always intellectualized an emotion that has no scientific explanation. Love is something that I see as happening to others and usually only as happening earlier in life. Once we get to a certain age that light-headed foolish love no longer applies.

On that note, I will be attending a “Kill Cupid” happy hour tonight with friends. Ha! Maybe I’m wrong but there you have it. I have faced the one topic that makes me uncomfortable and I have owned up to it. I’d love to hear your views.

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