Finding Peace in the midst of ALS

This month, I had the opportunity to visit my brother Jon's family twice. The first visit was at the impetus of my brother, Gerry, who lives in London and wanted to visit. Six of the seven Neu siblings were able to gather at Jon's house, working on home improvement projects, visiting, and eating yummy food. I went up yet again two weekends after to help with more home improvement projects and just try to be of service.

With each passing week and every visit, I think about this diagnosis. I try to understand it. How should I help? How should I feel? How DO I feel? Should I be doing this differently? Should I be understanding this differently?

When Jon was first diagnosed with ALS, it was very difficult to come to terms with. I read books about the disease, and the odds he faces.My family members and I started a frenzy of fasting, praying, pleading for healing, for beating those odds. I grappled with images and stories of others with ALS, like the Team Gleason commercial above, and  the documentary "Indestructible". Putting Jon's face into these stories causes me such anguish, even if the stories are infused with hope.

We don't know what the future holds.  But we must acknowledge our reality, including the fact the disease is progressing. While coming to terms with this reality is still difficult, I find peace in these thoughts:

We all still have a lot of hope for that better future. Miracles and cures are always possible.

I repeatedly remind myself that I have not actually lost my brother. In fact, I'm lucky he's still here. Some people lose their loved ones in an instant -- wonderful people who are treasured, just as much as my brother.

Despite my good fortune, I repeatedly experience feelings of devastation and loss. This will likely not stop. And it's OK. Obviously Jon is not gone, but the invincible Jon, and my expectations of a future invincible Jon -- they have been diminished. That is something to grieve.

As much as I feel overwhelmed to process this, I struggle even more to imagine how it would feel to be Jon in this situation. As I consider how to manage emotions in this uncertainty, I try to remember to be most mindful of his.

We, his extended family, fumble with how to anticipate and accommodate Jon's family's needs. But it's a kind, loving thing to fumble with.

My sister is picking up her whole family and moving to Minnesota, just to be there in case that would be helpful. She's awesome. My whole family is awesome.

It doesn't matter to me whether they "really need something" or if something could be put off till later. If there is something to do and I'm able,  I will seize the opportunity. We may not be able to move heaven and earth, or cure my brother, but we can do everything within our capacity to help-- if for no other purpose, just to prove that if we could, we would. And we do.

I am unwilling, despite my good fortune that his disease is not taking him from us more quickly, to give Jon up to ALS. Even if losing Jon to ALS was inevitable (which it's not). I won't give him up till I have to.

Double Take

Facebook is awesome. I love finding old friends. Adrian used to laugh at how I love to collect people. I don't really keep in touch with people on a frequent basis, but I love to keep track of people and just have them not too far away. I like to know they're alright. I don't know why. It makes me feel better.

I found another old friend this week. It's been years. Probably since middle school. We used to do plays together. I was so excited to have found her! After we were officially "friended", I was snooping through all the things she's been up to and looking at all the pictures, and suddenly I was smacked by the most shocking revelation. This girl was ME! No, seriously. Me, but being me much better. It was like that episode of Friends when that chick steals Monica's identity. But how is that possible?! I thought I was doing a pretty good version of me up until now!

It took me a little while to think through it. How could she be doing such a better job at being me. She is knee-deep in all the things I absolutely love -- plays, swing dancing, photography. And I don't do ANY of that stuff right now. Why am I not her? We clearly love the same things. And that WAS me for a while, but it was me like 5 years ago. Look what has become of me! How did this happen? Where did I go wrong?! Where am I?

But then I got a grip. And I realized, this was not me. First of all, I don't have her fabulous legs (I never do have those legs). But I also have other loves. And I have this incredibly serious side. And while I've left some of my loves for a while, I was planning to dive back into fun-loving hobbies I used to know as soon as this MBA mumbo jumbo is over.

Phew. Mid-life crisis averted. But she really is pretty darn awesome. I admit it. I did harvest a little bit of jealous. That doesn't happen often, so it took me by surprise. But I can embrace my jealous tendencies. They're a form of flattery, right?

Perspective

Very recently, I have been approaching life experiences as something to be endured and trudged through. And then, after I have "survived" or "gotten through it", I will then emerge on the other end with a notch on my belt or a check on my list. I have just realized how incredibly, unbelievably inaccurate this view is.

While I do hope to "survive", it is not me that will emerge on the other end -- at least not me as I am right now. And a life experience isn't just endured (even if it's one you'd rather forgo). It is, ironically, to be experienced. It is something that at least should, and probably will, change you. And at the other end of the experience, while you will emerge, it will be a different you. One that will never be the same.

So, I guess what that means is I should choose my experiences carefully. While I can probably endure anything, and the experience will end, I will still have to live with whatever me emerges at the end of it.

When did I become so cynical?

So, I had the unexpected opportunity to speak at Harvard Business School this last weekend at a conference. It was sort of short notice with not a lot of time to prepare and really even less time to think about it as work has been through the roof as of late.

While I was there, it was such a blast from the past, or a world that I haven't been associated with or even crossed paths with in so long. I remember it when ideas were everything, the future was sort of yours, and the most important thing in your life was You...oh wait, I don't think that last one really ever entered a lot of the minds of the people I associate with, or at least not my mind.

But regardless, it was interesting to see how people thought that they were the most important thing in the world, strode the hallways with elbows poised to absorb as much space and essence as possible, their egos expanded well beyond any presence their body could control, sipping brandies and expensive liqueurs like they had the refined palates of Anton Ego, coupled with the sophistication of Descartes. And I.....I sat in the corner wondering, what in the world possessed them to have such an incredulous attitude about themselves as if I were some sort of Socrates, ready with a simple question to yank them down from their elven perches aloft in the highest tree tops.

And as I return to reality a bit, and the work day returns to answering phone calls from clients, managing money, planning the next big thing (big for me is not very big for most), wondering what in the world happened to the time I had, and hating myself for not having finished a certain lookbook for a certain project which in this blog shall be known as Two's Company, and wondering where oh where did my sense of thought, the value of thought, and the reality of my own position (or lack thereof) go? Shortly thereafter the thought pops in my head that I shouldn't be typing this blog at all, but should be working on the lookbook, but everyone needs a few minutes of downtime.

Anyways, I don't know what has inspired me to be so cynical as to no longer give value or credence to the idea, or perhaps it is that I do not give value or credence to the idea without proven action or merit, I am not sure which. But I remember the days when thoughts were valuable, even if they did not result in action (which on a daily basis now I think thoughts without action are worthless), and as I postulate what I want to do and how I want to structure things in the future, I wish that someone had thought about the problems I am anticipating and facing as my business expands, my life changes, and my voice leaves me (I was talking too loudly this weekend!)

I recently finished the book Anna Karenina, and am reminded of the character Konstantin Dmitrich Levin, who regularly thinks of the problems between the landowners and the muzhiks. And while reading it I thought of that applicability to common day life which I engage in. How highly would I value that thought? Even if there was no action by the thought provider, but it lead and paved a way for my action.....after all isn't that what philosophy is about? Thinking so that others may embrace that thought and put it into action? Anyone that knows me, knows that I am no genius, and therefore I rely on the thoughts of others.

So, when did I become so cynical, that in a weekend, speaking at one of the most prestigious business schools in the world, I left annoyed, disgusted, and overall unimpressed with supposedly the elite of the elite? Where thought was nothing more than a self aggrandizing, snobbish pursuit of those ensnarled in a world of elitist behaviour?

Thoughts?

Frustration with dreaming

So I don't write often, and I don't promise to write more often, but running my own law firm takes time....and dedication, and a whole host of other things that I care not to elaborate on. Anyways, for the several weeks I have been in deep thought (mind you, my depth doesn't get much deeper than the bottom of a jar of Maille, but that is another story.)

I assume everyone that knows me, knows my well complained about issues with sleep, lack of it, and lack of its consistency. Along with that comes my lack of dreaming, but usually I don't complain about that, I just think that it is odd....but alas that is not what has bothered me today despite their importance and potential relation to the current topic of demise.

For the last several weeks/months, I have been a little annoyed with myself in the way things are going. I had these little goals in my head of how things would go, where they would be, and what I would be required to do to take it there. A lot of those goals were professional, and some were personal. Surprisingly, a lot of those goals have been attained or are in the process of being attained, and yet I was frustrated. Every day I was waking up and attaining goals, and making things that I had set as goals when I was 5 a reality, yet I wanted more, or at least I wasn't happy with where I was at. One would think that if their "dreams" were being fulfilled that one would be happy. But that is the topic of the post...."DREAMS".

I began to internalize as to whether it was that my goals were not fulfilling. I feel like they are fulfilling, and as an everyday life, I actually enjoy them quite a bit. I think the world would look at them as respectable and admirable goals, and I don't think I am entirely a self-centered individual, although I won't claim that I am not selfish.

Well, if my goals were fulfilling, aren't my goals my dreams? OR are goals and dreams different? Are dreams that intangible thing which we lust after and goals the pragmatic steps that we take to get there?

What is a dream? Very tough to call. I have found myself feeling uninspired and a bit, hmmm.... shall we say calculated and pragmatic. I longed for the days when I would stare out the window and fantasize about being superman, or batman....and reflect back on how happy those day dreams made me feel, despite the fact that I knew they would never come into existence.

I know those around me would say that I am always dreaming of these wild and crazy endeavors that I get involved with, yet I never seem to feel like they are dreams. They seem like pragmatic, practical plans in an attempt to achieve very tangible and realistic goals (what is realistic to one may not be realistic to another.) Yet, I continue to wake up every day and wonder what it is in the world I am doing with myself. And then it hit me.

Have I failed to dream? What do I mean by that? I mean that I have failed to remove myself from the tangible every day practical part of life and think about the "if's" and the "what if's". The unattainable has become attainable, and therefore, my dreams have died...fortunately not because of depression or failure, but because of relative success (I am no millionaire). Odd to say that success has frustrated me, but it has. There is still challenge and things to work for, but they are attainable, or at least I feel like they are attainable.

It is that failure to keep the dream alive, to keep dreaming that has lead to the frustration. I have wondered over the last while what it was with me, and I wonder if that is the answer. That if failing to come up with new dreams, new ideas, new challenges and aspirations, that the old dreams which one has attained or failed, whichever is ones reality, the dreaming has been supplanted by the every day, the parts of life that keep us alive and make us human. The parts of life that sustain us in a temporal sense, but they do not keep our spirits alive, at least not my spirit alive.

I need to dream. I need to dream of that next mountain that needs to be climbed, or that little bit of dirt that I could cultivate an ant farm in. Whatever it is, I believe it is the continuous process of dreaming that keeps my spirit alive.

So alas, if you have felt similarly, or ideas in what it is you dream about and work for...chime in. Let me hear your thoughts...and maybe, just maybe I'll dream of writing a response! ;)

Thoughts On Cleaning

I'm not sure who thought up "spring cleaning". How is it considered a given that "spring" and "cleaning" go together? Spring signals to me running outside, more sunlight, taking walks, wearing lighter coats and playing frisbee. All of those things usually provide me with LESS time for cleaning.

More appropos for me would be "guest cleaning". I'm much more likely to tidy up for guests rather than spring. I just don't care what the heck spring thinks of my home. But my friends -- I like to make them feel comfortable. I also don't like to be dubbed "the total slob who lives in a den of filth." Don't get me wrong. I do clean for my own joy and benefit -- and to keep away icky things like vermin and ants. But, hands down, my best cleaning spells are in the wake of hosting.

So,the Book Club, comprised of various friends, is coming to my house this evening. Thus, yesterday was a cleaning extravaganza. Boy was THAT an eye opener. Truly. I wondered if my blinds had been dusted EVER. It took some time, but they made an amazing transformation from dark brown to actual white (who knew?) last night.

The most hilarious moment in the evening came when I gave the living room a thorough visual inspection to assess where I should start. I was alarmed to find the nativity set was still up. Oh, and look! A festive poinsetta atop one of the speakers on the other side of the room. And the minorah in the window. So, being the wise and savvy task manager that I am, I decided a good place to start would be to put away the Christmas decorations. Naturally.

It's the end of MAY! Wow! I could blame my distraction on my busy schedule. I have one of those. But I won't, because we all know --- I can be THAT oblivious. I had an old roommate who used to get bugged that I would forget to shut cupboard doors in the kitchen after I opened them (among other things that I do which bugged her -- and may still bug her and other people, I'm sure). I warned my new roommate, before she moved in, of this quirk and also added that this would be one of many. I believe in open disclosure.

Somehow I didn't get the female gene that mandates I think lots of things are "icky", scream at spiders and must meticulously clean my bathroom on a weekly basis. This is partially because I just don't notice half the stuff(note the Christmas decor experience listed above).

And I'm just not a squeamish, "that's gross" kind of girl. I find dramatic reactions tiring and silly. Not because all people who squeal at a spider are silly. No, indeed. But because I am silly when I do it because I have no natural inclination to do so. It'd be pure theatrics. Honest. I've tried it. I just felt silly. Instinctively, when I encounter a crawling thing, I just debate on whether to kill it or let it live as long as it doesn't crawl on ME. After all, what did the spider ever do to me? But if it DOES crawl on me,-- well that is an offense, justifiably punishable by death to the spider. So, is it worth the risk to let one of God's creatures live? Dilemmas.....

Another element is that I didn't observe peculiar activities like that thing called "dusting" unless I was at a friend's house -- my mother just wasn't a neat freak. At all. She still isn't. I can recall one occasion, just before my parents were leaving for their mission this past fall, in fact. We were having company over and I was "guest cleaning" the house completely, as my mother had broken her ankles and wasn't really able to help. I asked her about a couple of things she might like me to do to make the house look really nice. Her response was, "No, that's alright. It's ok if the house looks like we live here."

I love that about my mom. We didn't grow up in a meticulously clean home, but it was relatively orderly, very open to people (who seemed to like to be there) and, reflectively, I appreciate that I got to spend time with my mother rather than watch her clean a lot.

I am also grateful she made us clean on occasion, taught us HOW to clean (though I have had to learn a couple things since having left the nest.... like dusting), and that I can make a bathroom sparkle when given the right motivation. But I just don't care to do it all the time. Unless of course, you're coming over. In which case, maybe you could give me a day's notice? I might suddenly feel inspired to do a few things...

Old Year, New Year

It's about that time. Time to reflect on what's transpired and what will come. The first is, of course, easier to figure out. So, I'll start there. The last year has brought me many things, involved various accomplishments and given me lots of happy memories. In keeping with my age, I will list that many relished feats and happy times in 2007. Here are some favorites:

1) ran a half marathon
2) started blogging
3) started a book club with a very good friend and, as a result, started reading more.
4) got a bit of much-needed therapy
5) got back together with Male. What can I say? I just like him.
6) ran a 5k with my nephew, Christopher
7) went home for Thanksgiving
8) survived a family reunion in St. George
9) went to Colorado for the 1st time with some friends and went rafting
10) went to Vegas with some friends and had a rip roaring good time
11) ran into a moose and survived to tell the tale.
12) sent my parents away on a mission. Twice.
13) got over myself a little bit and learned how to love better.
14) bought new clothes that I love.
15) worked at a much-loved clothing store for a year, gained great experience, learned lots and made some great friends
16) started planning a business venture
17) started studying for the LSAT
18) managed to save instead of going into debt ( even if I didn't save as much as I wanted to)
19) bought a camera. I LOVE that thing
20) didn't break up with Male. Not once. It took some restraint, I'll admit, but I think I'm better for it.
21) got a roommate. And she's totally rad.
22) got my favorite calling back. Yeah!
23) started buying furniture-like things. I have a filing cabinet AND a book shelf. It makes me feel like more of an adult, somehow.
24) got into ebay auctions. They are so fun. And so addictive.
25) got Male to start to learn swing dancing
26) I haven't verified this with anyone, but I think I became a better listener. Really, I do.
27) kept dancing and hoola hooping :)
28) redecorated my bathroom. Oh, it just looks so good.

As for the coming year and what it will bring, there's really no way of telling, but here's a brainstorm of various directions I would like to be headed. (note I wrote "directions", plural. We all well know I could never limit myself to just one).

1) find a new, better paying job. I would be willing to substitute this fo my current job paying me better. But I prefer a new job. So I'll shoot for that.
2) start business venture. There's a lot that goes into this one. Lots of time and lots of steps. And licensing. In fact, I think this one resolution should count for a gazillion. Yipes, jeepers, heavens to Betsy and criminy, all in one. Whoever Betsy is. But I'll just count it as one for now.
3) go to London. London misses me. And I miss London.
4) nurse my ankles back to health enough to be able to run again. I'm being very well behaved right now. I won't even bring my running shoes to the gym, just so I'm not tempted to test them out yet. Some day I can bring them. Some day soon. But not yet.
5) teach Male to swing dance. I have great hopes for him. And he shows promise.
6) love better. I learn more all the time. Relationships are good teachers. In my recent experience, I find that loving people hurts a lot. And I'd say christian theology supports my theory. So, at times I feel inclined to stop. However, the alternative is much less happy. Don't that just beat all.
7) see my sister more and make time to help her with her kids.
8) make more time for friends and family. As the years pass me, I realize I'm not very good at this, and at some point I will look back and wish I had made the time. Now's a better time to start so that point doesn't come.
9) save money. Note I didn't say how much. This is because I like to avoid failure. Thus, I stick to being vague and I manage to avoid failure, for the most part. You can see this as a trend in many a New Year's resolution.
10) take the LSAT. I think. This one might get delayed. Honestly, a girl can only do so much in a year and as I read through this list, I can see I'm giving myself a full agenda already. But no harm in aiming high, right?
11) run some 5k's. That is of course, if I can run at all. I hope, I hope, I hope.
12) keep dancing & hoola hooping. It's quirky, as am I, and I just love it. I sometimes reflect back to when I was a little girl dancing to my dad's Elvis cd's in the living room cuz I just couldn't help myself. Here I am 20 yrs later, and though Elvis may be replaced my Gwen Stefani or Pink, I find I haven't changed much. Ok, so puberty happened. Even so, that continuity is still there. It's comforting.
13) keep up the book club. And keep up WITH the book club. It's a challenge. I don't know how Joan does it.
14) keep blogging. It's good for the soul.
15) eat less sugar. I like to make easy goals for myself. Take this resolution for example-- I just have to commit to eating 19 pieces of candy per day, instead of 20 and I've succeeded! See? That simple. Of course, I could go full throttle and do some kind of cleanse or something to flush it all out of my system, but I'm always leary of extreme measures. And I do love sugar.
16) buy a laptop computer. I'd like to get one yesterday. It's amazing I've survived so long without one, really.
17) buy a blackberry or something like it. The phone I have now is sleek and sexy, but it doesn't quite cut it. I think I need to trade in sleek & sexy for practical.
18) learn some more Spanish. This won't be too hard since I only remember a whole of 5 words from the class I was in last year.
19) get another book shelf. My book collection keeps growing. I wonder why?....
20) grow my hair out and don't dye it so I can donate it to charity.
21) work out 3x/wk. On average. Give or take a day.
22) get more home workout equipment,like maybe an exercise ball, or an aerobic step, or a punching bag, or a stationary bike.. stuff like that.
23) rent out my studio.
24) budget better. Thus, I can save more and waste less on clothes. Of course, I'll still buy fabulous clothes that I do, in fact, need. And I do mean "need". I'll just be more strategic and choosy about it so as not to waste.
25) don't speed (in hopes the end result will be that I don't get speeding tickets. )
26) cook more often. Again, this one should be easy since I presently don't cook at all.
27) redecorate another room in the house.
28) have people over for dinner on Sunday. Ooh, that's a good one. Yes indeed. That helps me with my resolutions to spend more time with family AND cook more often. Brilliant!
29) buy one pair of absolutely fabulous, to die for, I love you, I love you shoes. A couple of my I love you, I love you shoes are getting tattered and need to be retired. I need replacements. Expensive replacements. Oh, heaven help me and my love for personal adornment.

There we have it. Twenty-nine resolutions for my 29th year. I should be overwhelmed. But I'm not because I am presently giving absolutely no consideration to how much effort all that will take to accomplish. And I refuse to do so. So there. Ya know, I just love goals and new years resolutions and all that 5 year, 20 year planning mumbo jumbo. It's so motivating. And it kind of points me in a direction so I know where I'm headed. I just like that. I don't know how anybody gets anywhere without this stuff. And I find it so exciting. Am I the only one?

I also like realizing there are lots of things I'm glad I don't need to include on my list. For example, I don't need to stop drinking or quit smoking, stay out of rehab, leave my boyfriend who beats me up or wean myself off meth. This is good, no? In that kind of light, I get quite pleased with my current situation.

Of course, I realize this list has other items that are not on it that may be missed by some. I am sure most of my friends reading this will be disappointed to see that I have not included any resolutions or list items containing words like marriage, bridal shower, engagement, ring shopping or honeymoon. What can I say? When I start making resolutions or goals in that direction, I assure you all, you will be the first to know. Just don't start checking the blog every day expecting something like that to be posted.

Where Greatness Comes From

Some people seem destined for greatness. I am currently reading, or perhaps rereading, I know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou. I say perhaps because there have been a couple sections of the book that seem very familiar to me, but the rest of the book seems completely new. Thus, I would say I'm more just reading it rather than rereading because it clearly didn't sink in the first time I went through the book.. or 1/2 the book. What I did before was more akin to my eyes grazing across the words with no absorption. Anyhow, this book is a classic and I am thoroughly enjoying it this time around. I took a minute to read Maya Angelou's biography in the back. She's amazing IF you didn't know. This woman has achieved greatness. She has come up through very difficult circumstances, she has an amazing story, a worthy cause, a keen intellect and she can make music with words. In fact, she has been doing just that for quite some time.

There are some people who appear to be truly destined for great things. They are delivered this package of great potential and a perfect mix for going on to do something amazing with it. I watched soccer last night with Male and his brother. Argentina and Brazil were playing, their two rival teams. There was a player on the Argentina team who had amazing talent. He was probably all of 18 yrs old. He's already one of the best players in the world and making millions. I'd say he got a good mix for greatness.

And then I think of me. I keep doing things in life hoping that some day I might stumble across something I really want to do. In the meantime, I make do with what I find I have some kind of aptitude for, hoping to make as good of use of myself as possible while I figure things out. This does not seem to me to be a good recipe for achieving greatness, for the most part. I could be wrong. But it just doesn't seem like it.

Don't get me wrong. I don't feel sorry for me. I am lucky to have been blessed with many talents. I can draw pretty well. I sing well. I can write some fun songs on the guitar. I'm a good speaker...blah, blah, blah. However, none of these things are things I do amazingly. I'm average. Maybe slightly above average in a few things. But not great. I have yet to find the Greatness that Nelson Mandela was talking about being hidden within each of us that we're afraid of. I wish I could have a long talk with him about that quote of his. I've been looking everywhere for mine.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm letting it pass me by. I wonder what great cause I was given to champion that I am neglecting. What fabulous enterpreneurial endeavor am I failing to envision? Under what rock is my passion for "whatever-it-is" hiding that I have yet to unturn?

We may all not be destined for greatness. At least not the newspaper article, emmy awards, million-dollar income, or mass-hunger solving variety. Sometimes your not the man who will walk on the moon, or the next female real estate mogul. It reminds me of a poem that said something about, if you'r de tail don't ye try to wag de dog. Be who you are. Don't be what you ain't. So, what if you're a daisy? Your job is to recognize that and proceed to bloom like crazy. That poem made so much sense to me when I read it years ago. Just be who you are. Duh. Right.

There's only one trick. How do you know if your a tail or a daisy? I know it may take all the fun out of self-discovery and finding out, but I wish I had been given an outline for exactly what I was. I'm fine with being a daffodil if I'm a daffodil. But I'm not sure if I'm a daffodil trying to be a tree, or an artist trying to be an athlete or a whatever else one could be while not knowing and trying to be something else. I was giving so many average talents and more interests than I know what to do with that I'm not sure what to focus on. So it makes it a lot harder to just "get to it." Ya know?

As you can see, I find my life job description to be slightly less clear-cut than the poem might lead you to think it is. I have thus concluded it's a deceptive poem. I didn't know that years ago when I read it. Figuring out what you are is an adventure. A LONG adventure in my case. Someday I may achieve some kind of greatness. But imagine it will not be of the Maya Angelou, Louie Armstrong, Bill Gates, Oprah Winfrey variety. It will be...... something. I hope. How's that for definitive?

I think my job for the moment, while I try to figure out my job, is just to keep doing what comes across my path that seems worth doing. Someday Iwill know if I'm a daisy or a tail or a tree or whatever I'm supposed to be. And I can wonder and hope that between me and my great work, eventually one of us will find the other. In the meantime, the music of life continues. And to that I say, "Play on, friends. Play on."

A big Word: "Love"

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!)

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 Think I Thought a Lot of Things to Think About

Many days, I wonder if my entire life weren't all just inside my head. I worry that I get so wrapped up in thinking and worrying about all the things that are going on and all the things that could go on. But what could actually be going on if I weren't so busy thinking about the possibilities?

So much to consider. How does one find time to live? I try to see what things really are, what I percieve them to be and I wonder how much of a difference there is. I also think about relationships. There are relationships at present, and then what they could evolve into. Relationships that could be, and also those never ventured for. I consider my life at present. And I consider all the life options of where I could be headed.

So many roads. Can I really only travel one? I may have one life to live, but I like to appease myself by pseudo-living through countless other lives, to see what I think of them and to make sure I really do like how I'm living this one. Inside my head, I've done quite a bit of living and made some really different choices. The craziest things have happened! Many of them tragic. Many of them glorious. Many of them life-altering and consequential. Many of them profoundly meaningful.

And now that I think about it, I should probably have more of them be just plain, stinking, deliriously fun and fantastical. They're my thoughts, after all. I can do whatever I want with them. Isn't that the brilliance and beauty of daydreams anyhow? The fact that anything is possible in there even if it's not realistic out here? I'm kind of saddened I don't do that much. I'm always so realistic. Do you guys do that a lot? Or maybe, doing that makes one crazy. I don't know. Hmmm...

But alas, I digress, and am lost in thought again. Back to the topic at hand. All this thinking and day-dreaming and playing things out in my head causes me to wonder, on many occasion, if I don't live life in my head too much. I certainly used to. This habit of mine is a great deal to blame for my distraction through elementary school (indeed, life in my head was a lot nicer, at the time, than life outside of my head). And it is possible all that "in my headedness" also contributed to the D's and F's that subsequently plagued me. Woops!

But even now, significantly post-grammar school and many better grades later, it is very possible to live in my head so much that I unduly detract from the amount of fabulous living I could be doing. There's this unknown, unquantifiable amount of life potential never reached. All of it exists out of my head, with real action, with the one life I actually have that is going by me, speeding past me every moment. But that potential can't be captured unless I am willing to come OUTSIDE of my very full, overly busy, distracting, daydreamy little head.

I may have a disease. Yes, another one. The disease of the ever-questioning individual. Or maybe much worse -- I'm perpetually living as the shamefully, ever-undecided individual. Can one ask too many questions? Is there a cure? There are books and books about living and being in the present. It is possible that people who have read them and understand and know how to live completely in the present may have all the answers for me. Maybe I should read those books.

Inspite of my worry, much of me believes it is somehow useful to question, daydream, venture and think through things. Even through the absurd. That is why I do it (along with the fact I can't seem to stop). But it is possible I overindulge in this. What a quandary! The unexamined life is not supposed to be worth living. And yet, the overexamined life could be simply impossible to live!

Thinking about it, I still do quite a bit of living outside my head. But the potential to live even MORE on the outside is always appealing. And perhaps it's very possible. There are those crazy people who you meet who are 23 and have accomplished more than many 50 yr olds out there. And we all wonder, "How DID you do all that?" People have unlimited potential. I think. Maybe. Or maybe I would know if only I could stop thinking so much. How many people come out long enough to find out?