I intend…

December 30, 2010

Something about the word, “resolution” evokes for me an image of a person girding their loins and pursing their lips as they bravely take on a difficult task, endeavor, or the like.  Resolved.  Having resolve. It feels way too serious in my mind’s eye, and I think the word, “intend” is much more fluid and easily manifested, perhaps, when one is making new year-like statements.

I am someone who digs rituals.  I like the notion of a new beginning, whether it is ‘real’ or not, and I remain hopeful as I always do, that I can begin again, and anew, each new year.  A whole new me!  Bright , shiny, improved and re-booted.

The classic new year’s resolutions (see, that word is just too intense or something…) of quitting smoking (check: November 4th, 1999), or losing weight (sigh…continual desire) seem lacking in any real imagination.  So, I thought it might give an added “oomph” to my intentions for the new year if I were to list them out to read and re-read.  In no particular order, here are a few:

To graduate from cosmetology school.  Hopefully with the highest GPA and attendance record ever seen at Merrell University!  (of course, this shall be in addition to my having garnered as much knowledge and skill possible about being a stylist)…

To take deep breaths when stressed or worried and remember at those times that 100 years from now, none of it will matter anyway…

To be nicer to myself, first and foremost, with the intention that said niceness will expand to encompass all who I encounter.

To get back into the studio and pick up my chisels.  Hello wood!  Hello stone!

To eat whole foods, exercise as much as possible, and remember to do my stretching.

To continue to create art, read good books, educate myself, and overall improve at being a sentient being.

To let go of the past and really mean it.  Hence, to really let go of the past.  This will help with the following intention…

To be here now, man.

To not wish my life away… (extension, indeed, of the aforementioned statements)…or as my Dad used to say, “treat each day as if it were the first day of the rest of your life.”  I can dig it.

To be a better listener.

To realize it is not all about me.

To better receive criticism when it benefits my growth as a human being.

To be more grateful, more often, and more sincerely about all the good things I already have in my life.

To be a better wife and partner.

To love, with more grace and compassion, the people closest to me.

Right…  No small efforts, those, yet worthy endeavors indeed!

May 2011 be a treat for us all, and may this new year lead each of us into our highest potential.  See you out there!!

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BFF

September 25, 2010

It’s 6:22 a.m. this Saturday morning and I rowed to get some exercise.  My wrist bothered me a little, yet I figure I should row while I still can…at least for a while, anyway.

I was pondering the notion of kindness and friendship this morning, too, while rowing.  I want to turn over a new leaf and be kinder…nicer.  Not so much to others, as I already put energy in that direction, but to myself.

I want to be my own BFF.  The one who, no matter what, is there for me.  One who does not sit in judgment, or overreact, or pity, or mistreat.  I want to be my own best friend, forever.

Time to take hold of my hand…maybe even the injured one, and move forward.  If this sounds like I’m doing a Sally Field imitation from Sybil, I’m not.  This isn’t a psychotic split, yet more of a psychic joining.

I just want to be kinder to myself.  I want to be the one that is in my corner, even if all I have to offer is worry and concern and fears about an injured wrist.  I want to be the one that soothes and comforts, saying, “it will all be fine”…. “you’ll see…”…”we’ll get through it together.”  The kind of self-talk that is life-supporting…not haranguing.

Yes, that sounds nice.  I’m ready…

I was at a summertime sleep over at Leslie’s house a long time ago.  We must have been about 11 or 12.  There was a tight knit group of girls from school who were invited, and we all had brought our sleeping bags and accessories.  It was supposed to be fun.   Games and food and the outdoors.  What could be better??  I had a flashback recently on what happened with me that evening.  I don’t remember the specifics, yet I took offense at something.  A word, or an action?  Did I feel left out??  I really don’t know or remember.  What I do remember is that I thought it best that I leave.  I thought it best that I *announce* that it would be better that I leave.  I was sure that everyone would rally around and say, “No, Alison, please stay!!”  I was wrong…

It had gotten late, and Leslie just looked at me blankly after I pointed out my impending exodus, and said, “so you want me to wake my dad so he can take you home?”  She didn’t seem to care.  I freaked out, for what I wanted was for them to say they were sorry.  I wanted them to want me to stay.  I wanted them to prove they were my friends.

Instead I received Leslie’s reasonable question:  “do you want to go home, then?”.

I ended up going home.  I guess I thought I would be saving face or something by actually leaving.  My parting words to everyone were, “I’ll pick up my utensils tomorrow”.  Good lord.  How dramatic.  That phrase came back to haunt me years afterwards as my little scene was the butt of many jokes to come.

My present “epiphany of sorts” is this:  I’ve been doing this same kind of shit for years in a variety of different fashions.  I’ve made others jump through hoops in order to “prove” they love me and want me around.  I’ve made others follow me around in order to ask, “what’s wrong??”.  I’ve played a martyr and I’ve been mean.  I’ve asked more from others than I have asked of myself.  I’ve been dramatic and overly sensitive and I’ve managed to make everything about me.

It’s a really old, and really lame modus operandi.  I suppose I didn’t know any better at 11, but I sure can know better and do better at 46.

To those closest to me to whom I have inflicted this ridiculous charade more often than I would really like to admit…I am remarkably sorry.  Please accept my apologies for being an ass.

I truly intend to be different.  I know it is not all about me, and it *is* safe to love and let go at the same time.

I got it.

And to all my friends from those many years ago, thank you for just sending me on home.  35 years later…and maybe I finally understand what *real* love and friendship is all about.

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