"Whoever is careless with the truth in small matters cannot be trusted with important matters."
~ Albert Einstein
Who are you when no one is watching?
If you will lie about the small things, you will lie about the big ones. If you will take credit for something small that you did not do, you will credit yourself on a larger scale, knowing, deep down, it wasn't your original work or that those were stolen words or that you did not, in fact, complete the task.
How you do anything is how you do everything. If your integrity is lacking in small matters, how do you navigate through critical moments that require you to call upon your inner strength and know, clearly, who you are at your core?
What is the reason you build yourself up to others when you know it isn't authentic, when you know you are spinning a web of deceit, painting a pretty picture that, while you present it as realism is, in fact, just abstract pop art?
How often must you consult your inner-truth barometer... and how often does it scream at you to be set free from the prison you have created for yourself, locking yourself into the person you claim to be yet never have been nor will be.
What makes it so hard to love yourself enough to feel comfortable and confident just being you? What might life be like if you were wide open, honest, present, accountable, grateful and humble?
Imagine how good it might be to live a simple life of integrity.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Monday, January 28, 2013
Trust
We all know that trust is the foundation of any relationship. Without it, that foundation cracks, and whatever's been built upon it is at risk of crumbling. Trust can take years and years to build, yet can be destroyed in a matter of seconds, with the utterance of just a few words, or the painful moment when one discovers an egregious act has been committed.
The breaking of trust is the squashing of spirits and the killing of dreams. It is cruel in that it is not only situationally hurtful, but also in its ripple effect, seeping into the psyche of those who have been hurt, creating obstacles for them as they try to trust again. It causes constant questioning and results in an unsettledness that is difficult to explain to anyone who has not experienced it.
My life's lessons have taught me that people who are ego-driven are not trustworthy. They are so caught up in their "ME!"-ness that they refuse to consider how their actions affect the people around them. They are condescending and controlling in their communication, with an uncanny ability to make even the brainiest of braniacs feel foolish. They say whatever they think people want to hear, regardless of its veracity; they do what needs doing in order to stroke their own egos, even when doing so costs them everything and everyone about whom they care. They are incapable of true love because true love is selfless and unconditional, neither of which the ego understands.
I believe that these people struggle to find joy and contentment. They are looking to fill the voids in their hearts with things that truly don't matter. They can't possibly trust other people fully because they recognize that they, themselves, can't be trusted. Our natural inclination is to project who we are at our cores onto others, to look at life through the unique lens we each have created, a lens that mirrors ourselves, based on our thoughts, feelings and experiences. If we are pure and positive and treat others with the utmost love and respect, we assume others operate in much the same way. If we are dark and self-serving, it is hard to imagine that others do not follow suit.
Can trust ever be rebuilt? The logical side of me would like to believe that it can... yet I am not sure how one goes about healing deep wounds, inflicted by people in whom we believed, who we thought were least likely to ever cause us crippling pain. Can people so driven by ego that they forget there are living, breathing, feeling human beings on the other ends of their selfish actions change? The logical side of me would like to believe that they can... yet I am not sure that these types of people actually have the courage and strength to do so. It is my belief that it is the coward who hides behind his/her ego, and to truly evolve, we must face our fears, as well as our inner-demons, and find ways to fill with gratitude the voids in our hearts, and to recognize and appreciate that what we have within us is, indeed, enough.
I am a believer in value added relationships, and I am well aware that we only continue to stay in relationships that somehow serve us. Even under the most challenging of circumstances, when trust is gone and all that remains is a shred of hope, if we stay, it is because the relationship somehow serves us. Otherwise, we would recognize and act upon the need to simply walk away.
The strength it takes to wake up each morning with a resolve to trust again is unimaginable, on some levels. And yet, the human spirit is stronger than anything that can happen to it, and so we continue to do what needs doing in order to move forward, and sooner or later, we learn to trust again.
The breaking of trust is the squashing of spirits and the killing of dreams. It is cruel in that it is not only situationally hurtful, but also in its ripple effect, seeping into the psyche of those who have been hurt, creating obstacles for them as they try to trust again. It causes constant questioning and results in an unsettledness that is difficult to explain to anyone who has not experienced it.
My life's lessons have taught me that people who are ego-driven are not trustworthy. They are so caught up in their "ME!"-ness that they refuse to consider how their actions affect the people around them. They are condescending and controlling in their communication, with an uncanny ability to make even the brainiest of braniacs feel foolish. They say whatever they think people want to hear, regardless of its veracity; they do what needs doing in order to stroke their own egos, even when doing so costs them everything and everyone about whom they care. They are incapable of true love because true love is selfless and unconditional, neither of which the ego understands.
I believe that these people struggle to find joy and contentment. They are looking to fill the voids in their hearts with things that truly don't matter. They can't possibly trust other people fully because they recognize that they, themselves, can't be trusted. Our natural inclination is to project who we are at our cores onto others, to look at life through the unique lens we each have created, a lens that mirrors ourselves, based on our thoughts, feelings and experiences. If we are pure and positive and treat others with the utmost love and respect, we assume others operate in much the same way. If we are dark and self-serving, it is hard to imagine that others do not follow suit.
Can trust ever be rebuilt? The logical side of me would like to believe that it can... yet I am not sure how one goes about healing deep wounds, inflicted by people in whom we believed, who we thought were least likely to ever cause us crippling pain. Can people so driven by ego that they forget there are living, breathing, feeling human beings on the other ends of their selfish actions change? The logical side of me would like to believe that they can... yet I am not sure that these types of people actually have the courage and strength to do so. It is my belief that it is the coward who hides behind his/her ego, and to truly evolve, we must face our fears, as well as our inner-demons, and find ways to fill with gratitude the voids in our hearts, and to recognize and appreciate that what we have within us is, indeed, enough.
I am a believer in value added relationships, and I am well aware that we only continue to stay in relationships that somehow serve us. Even under the most challenging of circumstances, when trust is gone and all that remains is a shred of hope, if we stay, it is because the relationship somehow serves us. Otherwise, we would recognize and act upon the need to simply walk away.
The strength it takes to wake up each morning with a resolve to trust again is unimaginable, on some levels. And yet, the human spirit is stronger than anything that can happen to it, and so we continue to do what needs doing in order to move forward, and sooner or later, we learn to trust again.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Really Random Thoughts...
1. I just saw that rose gold and one piece bathing suits are in style. Hmmmm... I am glad I am not particularly concerned about being a fashionista because there's way too much with which to keep up. I prefer my sparkly things, you know, like tiaras, set in platinum, thankyouverymuch. Additionally, I am contractually obligated to wear a bikini while doing a very important job on the bows of a variety of boats, so these developments could prove problematic.
2. I look for signs of strength in so many areas of my life, and part of being strong includes a willingness to take care of me. One of the ways I like to show others that I care about them is through cooking. Yet, when I find myself alone, I subsist, primarily, on oatmeal, nut thins and water. I need to do a better job of taking care of me in this regard.
3. I miss skating. A lot. I still have my last pair of competitive skates; they sit, collecting dust, in my basement, a well worn pair of Riedell Gold Stars, purchased 30 years ago or so. They no longer fit me the way they once did...where once they felt heavenly, they now feel tight and foreign on my feet, and the Ace blades have been sharpened so often that they are practically non-existent. I can't even imagine how different the top of the line skates today feel, though I am sure I would be amazed.
The rink is my happy place. It is the place to which I long to return when I have big thoughts through which to work, and yet the ice has been sorely lacking in my life for the last several years, years that provided, the arguably biggest thoughts to think.
4. AJ, the five month old lab-mix pound puppy, is terrified of Bailey The Wonder Cat. Bailey The Wonder Cat is acutely aware of the power he holds over AJ, and was just seen chasing the whimpering, tail tucked pup (who, incidentally, is clearly much bigger than the cat) down the hall. It's kind of how I envision people running away from me when I am in the midst of a particularly passionate hissy fit. Bailey is a badass.
5. Someone recently asked me who the caretaker of my emotions is... it was a question of love stemming from an observation that I spend a great deal of time in the care and keeping of the important people around me. I immediately responded that I am responsible for my own emotions, I take care of me. Upon further reflection, however, I have decided that it would be nice, in a perfect world, to have a prince charming who viewed this task as a shared responsibility.
2. I look for signs of strength in so many areas of my life, and part of being strong includes a willingness to take care of me. One of the ways I like to show others that I care about them is through cooking. Yet, when I find myself alone, I subsist, primarily, on oatmeal, nut thins and water. I need to do a better job of taking care of me in this regard.
3. I miss skating. A lot. I still have my last pair of competitive skates; they sit, collecting dust, in my basement, a well worn pair of Riedell Gold Stars, purchased 30 years ago or so. They no longer fit me the way they once did...where once they felt heavenly, they now feel tight and foreign on my feet, and the Ace blades have been sharpened so often that they are practically non-existent. I can't even imagine how different the top of the line skates today feel, though I am sure I would be amazed.
The rink is my happy place. It is the place to which I long to return when I have big thoughts through which to work, and yet the ice has been sorely lacking in my life for the last several years, years that provided, the arguably biggest thoughts to think.
4. AJ, the five month old lab-mix pound puppy, is terrified of Bailey The Wonder Cat. Bailey The Wonder Cat is acutely aware of the power he holds over AJ, and was just seen chasing the whimpering, tail tucked pup (who, incidentally, is clearly much bigger than the cat) down the hall. It's kind of how I envision people running away from me when I am in the midst of a particularly passionate hissy fit. Bailey is a badass.
5. Someone recently asked me who the caretaker of my emotions is... it was a question of love stemming from an observation that I spend a great deal of time in the care and keeping of the important people around me. I immediately responded that I am responsible for my own emotions, I take care of me. Upon further reflection, however, I have decided that it would be nice, in a perfect world, to have a prince charming who viewed this task as a shared responsibility.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Change of Venue
For years I have blogged primarily in a space that I deemed safer than Hissy Fits: a small community with plenty'o'privacy and a familiarity with the incredible folks there that could make even the iciest of hearts, like mine, melt (just a little, of course).
Sure, I would pop over to Hissy Fits to develop deeper thoughts sparked by the silliness I wrote there, but it is there that the majority of my day to day musings has dwelled. Years of memories are preserved there, and I suspect it's probably time to begin a memory migration, of sorts.
Further, it feels as though it's time for some changes in my kingdom, including a new venue for my ridiculously random, daily-ish thoughts. The aforementioned spot has changed quite a bit and, frankly, I have, too, as we all do, through experiencing the lessons life presents.
And so it seems that Hissy Fits will become a busier place... until such time as yet another change in venue is in order.
Sure, I would pop over to Hissy Fits to develop deeper thoughts sparked by the silliness I wrote there, but it is there that the majority of my day to day musings has dwelled. Years of memories are preserved there, and I suspect it's probably time to begin a memory migration, of sorts.
Further, it feels as though it's time for some changes in my kingdom, including a new venue for my ridiculously random, daily-ish thoughts. The aforementioned spot has changed quite a bit and, frankly, I have, too, as we all do, through experiencing the lessons life presents.
And so it seems that Hissy Fits will become a busier place... until such time as yet another change in venue is in order.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
I Wonder...
I wonder how one justifies a lie of omission as more acceptable than one that is spoken aloud.
I wonder how one fib, told to try to soften a blow, is uttered and tolerated by anyone who understands and practices universal truth.
I wonder how one can fail to understand that any untruth that is presented and ultimately accepted, no matter how small or seemingly benign, turns into another untruth and then another... until eventually, words just roll off the tongue with little regard to their veracity because, by that point, the truth is simply so blurred one might not even recognize it any longer.
I wonder how one believes that hiding things or lacking transparency or failing to discuss thoughts and feelings rather than determining on one's own what someone else might think, believe or feel, protects and honors that other human being.
I wonder what makes me want to not trust my gut... because my gut is right on a regular basis.
I wonder how one fib, told to try to soften a blow, is uttered and tolerated by anyone who understands and practices universal truth.
I wonder how one can fail to understand that any untruth that is presented and ultimately accepted, no matter how small or seemingly benign, turns into another untruth and then another... until eventually, words just roll off the tongue with little regard to their veracity because, by that point, the truth is simply so blurred one might not even recognize it any longer.
I wonder how one believes that hiding things or lacking transparency or failing to discuss thoughts and feelings rather than determining on one's own what someone else might think, believe or feel, protects and honors that other human being.
I wonder what makes me want to not trust my gut... because my gut is right on a regular basis.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Living and Dying Examples
Today I'm feeling grateful that I had parents who could have afforded to buy me the moon, yet I secured a work permit and had an after school job at the age of 14, mostly paid for the things I wanted with my own money, and was handed nothing on a silver platter. My parents were my parents, not my BFFs, with very clearly defined expectations, rules and boundaries. I learned how to respect all people, regardless of their race, religion, sexual preference, political views, economic standing, relationship status, career choices or intelligence level. I learned that there are things in life we don't want to do but must, and therefore to slap a smile on my face and do what needs doing. I learned that who we are when no one is watching is who we truly are at our core. They taught me that if we wish to better our world, we should simply act, not spend time telling others of the great things we have done, for humility, in and of itself, makes the world a better place.
My father's death, far too soon, taught me that life is precious and short. It was an opportunity to reflect on what's truly important, which led me to the conclusion that to live with gratitude for what we have, not mourn that which we do not, is one of the keys to fulfillment. His death taught me that anger is a wasted emotion, being judgmental makes no one unhappy but oneself, and that taking out on other people that with which we struggle never makes us feel better; instead it generates guilt and, perhaps self-loathing. It reminded me to celebrate the unique gifts of each person whose lives we touch and who touch ours in return.
People often tell me I am "lucky" to have children who are considerate, respectful and compassionate. Typically, I would write "luck has nothing to do with it; raising nice kids is hard work"... and it surely is... but I realize now that I am lucky because I learned how to instill these qualities into my children through the living and dying examples of my own parents.
My father's death, far too soon, taught me that life is precious and short. It was an opportunity to reflect on what's truly important, which led me to the conclusion that to live with gratitude for what we have, not mourn that which we do not, is one of the keys to fulfillment. His death taught me that anger is a wasted emotion, being judgmental makes no one unhappy but oneself, and that taking out on other people that with which we struggle never makes us feel better; instead it generates guilt and, perhaps self-loathing. It reminded me to celebrate the unique gifts of each person whose lives we touch and who touch ours in return.
People often tell me I am "lucky" to have children who are considerate, respectful and compassionate. Typically, I would write "luck has nothing to do with it; raising nice kids is hard work"... and it surely is... but I realize now that I am lucky because I learned how to instill these qualities into my children through the living and dying examples of my own parents.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
It's Not Valentine's Day...
Yet I am reflecting upon love. Take that, Hallmark!
I stopped looking for a prince quite some time ago, vowing to be "awesome and unavailable" forever, swearing off that whole messy "relationship" thing. I loved with conviction while others loved with convenience and situational comfort, thus creating an emotional chasm which was exhausting and defeating. My attitude came from years of experiential learning that provided me with both formal and informal data on heartbreak and trustworthiness (specifically, a lack thereof).
I thought the curriculum I was supposed to learn was that I am the only person upon whom I can count, the only person who was truly committed to me and that it's better to be balanced as a single human being than to live within the confines of a relationship in which the power, passion, and all-in-edness sways sharply to one side or the other. It seemed, however, like a tough way to have to learn these things; it left me bruised and allowed me to build an almost impenetrable fortress around my heart.
Since then, though, I have learned how to live in the present. I've learned to live with my truth and the truth of others and accept nothing less of myself, while still showing compassion to and for those around me. I've learned to love from the edge of my soul and be open to incredible possibility, seeking out the good in others from the get go rather than requiring them to first prove that their presence in my life is value-added. It's a far better place in which to dwell.
I am incredibly grateful to the teachers I've had related to this subject matter; for they have taught me how to trust and allowed me the opportunity to be me, restoring my faith in the idea that people are inherently good and that there are, indeed, truly selfless people among us. They have reminded me of who I am at my core and reinforced my desire to never again compromise on the things I hold most sacred.
Today I realized that I was not wrong about my curriculum. I just needed some multi-modal teaching techniques in order to get it through my pea-sized brain and understand it from a more global perspective.
And so, with renewed effort, I shall be awesome and unavailable... yet incredibly content with myself in the present moment, open to new experiences and hopeful that my circle will continue to grow with people whose lights shine brightly with possibility.
I stopped looking for a prince quite some time ago, vowing to be "awesome and unavailable" forever, swearing off that whole messy "relationship" thing. I loved with conviction while others loved with convenience and situational comfort, thus creating an emotional chasm which was exhausting and defeating. My attitude came from years of experiential learning that provided me with both formal and informal data on heartbreak and trustworthiness (specifically, a lack thereof).
I thought the curriculum I was supposed to learn was that I am the only person upon whom I can count, the only person who was truly committed to me and that it's better to be balanced as a single human being than to live within the confines of a relationship in which the power, passion, and all-in-edness sways sharply to one side or the other. It seemed, however, like a tough way to have to learn these things; it left me bruised and allowed me to build an almost impenetrable fortress around my heart.
Since then, though, I have learned how to live in the present. I've learned to live with my truth and the truth of others and accept nothing less of myself, while still showing compassion to and for those around me. I've learned to love from the edge of my soul and be open to incredible possibility, seeking out the good in others from the get go rather than requiring them to first prove that their presence in my life is value-added. It's a far better place in which to dwell.
I am incredibly grateful to the teachers I've had related to this subject matter; for they have taught me how to trust and allowed me the opportunity to be me, restoring my faith in the idea that people are inherently good and that there are, indeed, truly selfless people among us. They have reminded me of who I am at my core and reinforced my desire to never again compromise on the things I hold most sacred.
Today I realized that I was not wrong about my curriculum. I just needed some multi-modal teaching techniques in order to get it through my pea-sized brain and understand it from a more global perspective.
And so, with renewed effort, I shall be awesome and unavailable... yet incredibly content with myself in the present moment, open to new experiences and hopeful that my circle will continue to grow with people whose lights shine brightly with possibility.
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