So, I have been doing a lot of thinking about his wonderful word, as have many people, and I wanted to have a conversation about it with my dear sweet co-blogger before I posted this, but alas, my co-blogger runs to the ends of the earth to be busier and better than I. For I am forlorn and lost, a loser without a place, destined to be drifting in the whirlwinds of an endless emotionless torment, undefined by passion, language, or speech.
So, anyways, because there are so many different forms and kinds of love, and all that broad vagueness associated with feeling emotion, and the unquantifiable X factor, I will try to limit this post to "Love" in the context of pursuing a romantic relationship.
And in that context, I do not ask when is it appropriate to use it, but what does it mean?
about.com states it as "A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness."
I guess the part that I usually get hung up on is, and this is where I might diverge from a lot of people. While I agree that love is a strong emotional response, a bigger question is, what does that mean. I often think of love as, at a minimum, a desire for commitment. Not a representation of commitment, but a desire to be committed to that person, however you define commitment. (Please remember this is only in the context of pursuing a romantic interest.)
The reason I say that is because, without the commitment portion, I don't think there is really a big difference between love and like. A degree of emotion could be the only difference, but what does a deeper sense of emotion mean if not a desire to be committed. Now, I am not going to say that commitment means marriage, or even exclusive dating, although, culturally I would argue that it is very relevant for marriage, and my gut instinct is it is relevant in exclusive dating, and that using the ol' L word is brash and unscrupulous before at a minimum exclusive dating. Granted circumstances do arise where you were dating, and are still in love with someone, and then you are in other circumstances, yada yada.
But my gut instinct is you have to have gotten there at some point in the timeline.
Anyways, so what is love? Is it just emotion? Is it commitment? Just a desire? Is it crazy? (Well, we all know the answer to that!)
Showing posts with label conscience. Show all posts
Showing posts with label conscience. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
The Golden Snitch
What is the Golden Snitch? Or for that matter, who is the golden snitch? After receiving a rather late phone call the other day from a dear sweet friend of undefinable relation, I wondered to myself am I their golden snitch?
In the game of Quidditch, you can bust your butt the whole game long, dodging bludgers, blocking quaffles, but without the golden snitch, good luck winning.
This dear sweet relation prone to late night phone calls is raising teenagers, who I happen to be in the rather unassuming yet comfortable position of having befriended, enjoying their company, and seem to be more so of a confidant, wise in the ways of dark, sinful and exploratory life. What better tease is there for teenagers. I feel like I am going after Hansel and Grettel.
Anyways, I delay. So, the phone call consists of, "Hi", "How are you?", "Has our teenager ever talked to you about ...."
Now, my initial response to this was, "Oh, no you didn't!" (say that in your head with some sort of urbanesque dropping of important letters and syllables, with a hand up, and that awkward yet attitude demonstrating pose of getting in someone's face!) Of course, I didn't say that, but I thought to myself, how do I answer this oh so assuming and yet very invasive question?
These questions were then followed up with questions of my personal habits or behaviors, which I was also none to thrilled about. In the end, I felt like an abused step child, beaten until I could scream no more. They gave me the truth serum, and I fought it as best I could. (mind you, plausible deniability is a wonderful thing, even in situations dealing with those of undefinable relation!!) So, the "yes we talked about it, but I don't remember anything specific or earth shattering, was a wonderful statement (it happened to also be the truth! Hallelujah for bad memories!)
Am I the golden snitch? Do I want to be the golden snitch? Are they crazy and mean for putting me in the snitch position at all? I am sure anyone who is a parent is dying to have a golden snitch, but doesn't that betray all likelihood of friendship? I guess if there was something desperately wrong, but I would probably be the instigator of the conversation in that respect than otherwise.
Is the golden snitch really the key to the game? Or in the end, do you just have to say "Oh, no you didn't!"
In the game of Quidditch, you can bust your butt the whole game long, dodging bludgers, blocking quaffles, but without the golden snitch, good luck winning.
This dear sweet relation prone to late night phone calls is raising teenagers, who I happen to be in the rather unassuming yet comfortable position of having befriended, enjoying their company, and seem to be more so of a confidant, wise in the ways of dark, sinful and exploratory life. What better tease is there for teenagers. I feel like I am going after Hansel and Grettel.
Anyways, I delay. So, the phone call consists of, "Hi", "How are you?", "Has our teenager ever talked to you about ...."
Now, my initial response to this was, "Oh, no you didn't!" (say that in your head with some sort of urbanesque dropping of important letters and syllables, with a hand up, and that awkward yet attitude demonstrating pose of getting in someone's face!) Of course, I didn't say that, but I thought to myself, how do I answer this oh so assuming and yet very invasive question?
These questions were then followed up with questions of my personal habits or behaviors, which I was also none to thrilled about. In the end, I felt like an abused step child, beaten until I could scream no more. They gave me the truth serum, and I fought it as best I could. (mind you, plausible deniability is a wonderful thing, even in situations dealing with those of undefinable relation!!) So, the "yes we talked about it, but I don't remember anything specific or earth shattering, was a wonderful statement (it happened to also be the truth! Hallelujah for bad memories!)
Am I the golden snitch? Do I want to be the golden snitch? Are they crazy and mean for putting me in the snitch position at all? I am sure anyone who is a parent is dying to have a golden snitch, but doesn't that betray all likelihood of friendship? I guess if there was something desperately wrong, but I would probably be the instigator of the conversation in that respect than otherwise.
Is the golden snitch really the key to the game? Or in the end, do you just have to say "Oh, no you didn't!"
Friday, May 11, 2007
Do you choose your life or.....??
So today I about lost it. Ok, I really lost it. Why you ask? Well, completely selfish, impatient, and spoiled reasons, but nonetheless, oh so valid to me.
I have been at a large branch of life, only to find myself a bit lost and bewildered as to what opportunities and avenues to pursue. The other day, it led me to utter frustration, anger, and disappointment. Ever since I was a "little kid," I have had stuck in my head, and sincerely believed that I was here to accomplish something. What that something is, I don't know, but as most individuals, I feel compelled to try.
The reason is, and it relates to a discussion I had with my sister recently, is I have sort of led life in doing what I thought I was supposed to do, gone where I was supposed to go. And it seems that regardless of what I have wanted, there was one door, and that door was where I was going, not because it was my first choice, but because it was the option left for me. Looking back, most of those options really have been beneficial, but nonetheless, doesn't change the major question. Do we choose the life we lead, or just bring it in to line with what we are "supposed" to do?
Naturally , a statement like that brings in assumptions that I have, in that I believe that there is a divine nature, which is overseen by a supreme being, who I, in common vernacular, refer to as "God". Obviously, there is an inherent discussion in the existence of God, and God's attributes, but that is not the essence or intent of this post. Perhaps, at another time, I will pose the discussion of "is there a God, and what are God's attributes", but this post assumes those things.
I think of my life, and I will admit, have really had amazing experiences, but to get to those experiences, have often felt like I am walking in the dark. In other words, that although I pursue various avenues or opportunities, I have rarely had an opportunity in front of me that I didn't feel I should take, i.e. the opportunity presented was the opportunity I should choose. That begs the question then, is life an open breadth full of choices, or a narrow hallway with nothing but "Exit" signs on the sides.
Yes, I fully understand that I could choose to completley alter my life and make drastically different personal decisions. And perhaps that is my problem, I have tunnel vision. I think sometimes those of us who feel very driven, are so because we become extremely fixated on whatever, and that may be one of my flaws. I don't know. But nonetheless, I often feel that the idea behind life is not to choose life, but to bring your life in alignment with what God wants you to do. And that isn't saying that you wouldn't be happy with those decisions, just a motiviation side of things.
Thoughts?
I have been at a large branch of life, only to find myself a bit lost and bewildered as to what opportunities and avenues to pursue. The other day, it led me to utter frustration, anger, and disappointment. Ever since I was a "little kid," I have had stuck in my head, and sincerely believed that I was here to accomplish something. What that something is, I don't know, but as most individuals, I feel compelled to try.
The reason is, and it relates to a discussion I had with my sister recently, is I have sort of led life in doing what I thought I was supposed to do, gone where I was supposed to go. And it seems that regardless of what I have wanted, there was one door, and that door was where I was going, not because it was my first choice, but because it was the option left for me. Looking back, most of those options really have been beneficial, but nonetheless, doesn't change the major question. Do we choose the life we lead, or just bring it in to line with what we are "supposed" to do?
Naturally , a statement like that brings in assumptions that I have, in that I believe that there is a divine nature, which is overseen by a supreme being, who I, in common vernacular, refer to as "God". Obviously, there is an inherent discussion in the existence of God, and God's attributes, but that is not the essence or intent of this post. Perhaps, at another time, I will pose the discussion of "is there a God, and what are God's attributes", but this post assumes those things.
I think of my life, and I will admit, have really had amazing experiences, but to get to those experiences, have often felt like I am walking in the dark. In other words, that although I pursue various avenues or opportunities, I have rarely had an opportunity in front of me that I didn't feel I should take, i.e. the opportunity presented was the opportunity I should choose. That begs the question then, is life an open breadth full of choices, or a narrow hallway with nothing but "Exit" signs on the sides.
Yes, I fully understand that I could choose to completley alter my life and make drastically different personal decisions. And perhaps that is my problem, I have tunnel vision. I think sometimes those of us who feel very driven, are so because we become extremely fixated on whatever, and that may be one of my flaws. I don't know. But nonetheless, I often feel that the idea behind life is not to choose life, but to bring your life in alignment with what God wants you to do. And that isn't saying that you wouldn't be happy with those decisions, just a motiviation side of things.
Thoughts?
Friday, April 6, 2007
Biker Man
Yesterday I did a very awful thing. Very awful. And the results of this awful thing could have been much worse and horrific than they were. But now the awful thing is kind of a funny thing. I have found this thing which is luckily not tragic to now be a little humorous. Isn't it crazy how that works?
I was turning right from one street to another. The light was red. So, I waited for a break in traffic and then I went for it. The big mistake was that I perfunctorally glanced right after I saw the break in traffic to my left. I clearly did not thoroughly look right because as I started to "go for it", a biker man came out of nowhere from my right and wisked himself across the street right in front of my car. If I'd really looked, I imagine he would have not appeared "out ot nowhere". All was fine, ...except for the fact I'd already started to move by that time.
Of course, how he got across my car so quickly when I was moving makes me wonder how fast he was going. At least now it does. I hadn't considered it much yesterday. And suddenly, as I write this, I wonder if I would have been ABLE to see him. At that speed, how far away was he when I would have looked? But that's another story. And a pointless story or perusal, as I have already accepted blame.
Anyhow, I nipped the back of his rear bike wheel. He kind of tipsied to a stop, put his legs firmly on the ground and managed not to spill his large slurpee beverage. I saw this, as I had pulled over to the side and was looking back to see if I'd killed him or horrifically twisted his leg off or sent him crashing to the ground with a load of scrapes and cuts. No, no, and thankfully no. Instead I was delighted and thankful to find him capably and coherently cursing at me and calling the police on the phone. I really was delighted. When I got out of the car to talk to him, he told the police I had stopped, he was fine, and that he was going to talk to me first before he would ask them to come. I was thankful for that too.
I looked down at the poor guy's bike. As my eyes worked their way to the asphalt on the road where it was, I noticed the shaking legs of the biker man, which I'm sure was the result of all the adrenaline and endorphines running through his body from the great shock I gave him. After all, he just got hit by a car. My car!
Yes, at this point in time I am feeling badly. However, I admit that I am feeling significantly less bad than I would have felt had he actually been hurt. I am mostly feeling lucky. Very lucky. And then I'm telling myself I SHOULD feel bad because of how much potential I had to do a very awful thing just before. It's like my mother, principal and sunday school teacher have taken up a room in my head to be there and tell me how bad I am and what could have happened in the event I should do something bad, ...as I had just done. "I hadn't meant to," I argue. "But you did it all the same," they say. And to that I have no rebuttal.
Biker man calmed down. He was much nicer after he realized I was concerned for his well-being and that I wished to pay for the damage done. I made mention that his back wheel looked bent. He said he bought his bike for $120 and that he could get a new one probably for $100. I luckily had $100 on me. I was so glad. I gave him the $100 and then gave him my phone number and told him to call me in case he found that repairing the bike or getting a new one would cost more. I'm rarely so unphased at so unexpectedly and quickly parting with $100. But it didn't seem like a big loss, all things considered. He thanked me, told me to look more carefully in the future (it was a very kind chastisement, not at all mean or biting), and went on his way. The end. Except for the filed police report, of course. We did that (I may be quite naive, but I do also have moments when I visit reality).
And so, now I think, "I hit a biker man yesterday. How shocking. And frightening. And kinda funny. " I'm very glad, and very thankful, that this story is that kind of story.
I was turning right from one street to another. The light was red. So, I waited for a break in traffic and then I went for it. The big mistake was that I perfunctorally glanced right after I saw the break in traffic to my left. I clearly did not thoroughly look right because as I started to "go for it", a biker man came out of nowhere from my right and wisked himself across the street right in front of my car. If I'd really looked, I imagine he would have not appeared "out ot nowhere". All was fine, ...except for the fact I'd already started to move by that time.
Of course, how he got across my car so quickly when I was moving makes me wonder how fast he was going. At least now it does. I hadn't considered it much yesterday. And suddenly, as I write this, I wonder if I would have been ABLE to see him. At that speed, how far away was he when I would have looked? But that's another story. And a pointless story or perusal, as I have already accepted blame.
Anyhow, I nipped the back of his rear bike wheel. He kind of tipsied to a stop, put his legs firmly on the ground and managed not to spill his large slurpee beverage. I saw this, as I had pulled over to the side and was looking back to see if I'd killed him or horrifically twisted his leg off or sent him crashing to the ground with a load of scrapes and cuts. No, no, and thankfully no. Instead I was delighted and thankful to find him capably and coherently cursing at me and calling the police on the phone. I really was delighted. When I got out of the car to talk to him, he told the police I had stopped, he was fine, and that he was going to talk to me first before he would ask them to come. I was thankful for that too.
I looked down at the poor guy's bike. As my eyes worked their way to the asphalt on the road where it was, I noticed the shaking legs of the biker man, which I'm sure was the result of all the adrenaline and endorphines running through his body from the great shock I gave him. After all, he just got hit by a car. My car!
Yes, at this point in time I am feeling badly. However, I admit that I am feeling significantly less bad than I would have felt had he actually been hurt. I am mostly feeling lucky. Very lucky. And then I'm telling myself I SHOULD feel bad because of how much potential I had to do a very awful thing just before. It's like my mother, principal and sunday school teacher have taken up a room in my head to be there and tell me how bad I am and what could have happened in the event I should do something bad, ...as I had just done. "I hadn't meant to," I argue. "But you did it all the same," they say. And to that I have no rebuttal.
Biker man calmed down. He was much nicer after he realized I was concerned for his well-being and that I wished to pay for the damage done. I made mention that his back wheel looked bent. He said he bought his bike for $120 and that he could get a new one probably for $100. I luckily had $100 on me. I was so glad. I gave him the $100 and then gave him my phone number and told him to call me in case he found that repairing the bike or getting a new one would cost more. I'm rarely so unphased at so unexpectedly and quickly parting with $100. But it didn't seem like a big loss, all things considered. He thanked me, told me to look more carefully in the future (it was a very kind chastisement, not at all mean or biting), and went on his way. The end. Except for the filed police report, of course. We did that (I may be quite naive, but I do also have moments when I visit reality).
And so, now I think, "I hit a biker man yesterday. How shocking. And frightening. And kinda funny. " I'm very glad, and very thankful, that this story is that kind of story.
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