Reverb11: Who Have You Forgiven This Year?
Who have you forgiven this year and what was the journey that brought you to forgive them?
I had to think about this a bit, and I am still not sure if my answer is totally in the spirit of the prompt. Despite that, it still feels like the best answer.
The process is far from over, but in 2011, the most significant person I have forgiven is myself.
I have always been hard on myself, when it comes to performance and success. Sometimes I have been guilty of perfectionism. And while holding one’s own feet to the fire can be an effective way of initiating progress, one must view one’s self correctly and honestly or the same approach can be self destructive. Or at least self-sabotaging.
If one is either unwilling or unable to recognize and accept their limitations, uniqueness and weaknesses, life becomes a series of hit and miss. Goals that go unachieved. Staying in the slow lane, or even being derailed completely. All because we refuse to accept that perhaps there are reasons we are unable to accomplish what we set out to do in the way we set out to do it. And when we fail, we double our efforts to force ourselves into something we are unable to be. Which of course leads to more failure and frustration and depression. And then we feel that we are of little value, which in turn leads us to not think highly of ourselves.
Then the judgement sets in. The ridicule. The chastisement. And that is just the voices in our own heads. We wound ourselves deeply if we are not careful. And at that point, something has to stop the cycle. Forgiveness of ourselves is the best way to do so. This is what I have done in 2011 in certain areas and in varying doses and on different levels of my personality.
For example, one part of me has started to forgive the other part for not being the total success I was “supposed” to be by the time I reached this age. Forgiven me for not having all of the relevant talent. Forgiven me for taking a longer time to learn certain skills and truthes than it takes other people in the same situation. Forgiven me for not being an obvious winner and over-achiever.
But that aspect of me that has been forgiven all of the above must also exercise some forgiveness of its own. It must forgive the other aspect of my consciousness for its unfairness. Its coldness. Its name calling and berating. Its judgement and its dismissal.
And of course the talented, artistic, gifted and at times brilliant aspects of my psyche must forgive them both for being at times so counterproductive.
Then there is the aspect of me that has not gone the extra step in certain key places in my life. I have to forgive the lack of taking the specific risk, and accept that there will be others, and that obsessing over the lost chances will be of no use to me now.
Then there is the forgiveness of the darker thoughts…
As you can see, forgiving one’s self is not always a matter of thinking, “I regret having done that one thing, but now I forgive me.” It can be a deep, sprawling, multi-faceted introspective process requiring more bravery than you think.
What was the journey that brought you to forgive them?
The journey of course is ongoing. If I wanted to be obtuse, I could say that life itself was the journey. Yet specific to this year, I think a large part of the journey lie in two things:
1) Finishing the first two drafts of my novel. Looking back on that helped me remember that there is a great deal of talent and determination within me when I believe in what I am doing. Something which allows me to create even when nothing else is working.
2) The total failure of my financial goals. Having to move into Mom’s spare room for a while. My freelancing business stalling a bit, and my 9 to 5 jobbing being DOA. It made me focus on the fact that something was not working. I will never, ever give up the notion that much of my situation has been due to pure dumb bad luck. And I refuse to drink the “think positive and it will all go away” kool-aid. Yet I did come to realize that some aspect of my journey must not have been as it should be if I could posess so much promise and have so little to show for it over all of these years. There must have been an X-Factor. Or of course a Too XYZ factor.
A few months ago I determined that there are things about myself that I do not yet understand. Things that I should have taken time to explore and with which I should have familiarized myself and sought to understand long ago. I didn’t. But being stuck in the mud encouraged me to start to do so. Which led to the first inclination that perhaps I need to consider there are aspects of me that can explain some of my difficuly in grasping certain concepts. And whether or not they can be totally corrected, forgiving myself became an important step in a greater self awareness that I hope will continue and lead to postive things.
Reverb11: What Made Me laugh This Year?
Prompt: What made you laugh this year?
Many things made me laugh, and normally I would find this question too broad for an effective answer. Yet this year one thing stands out. My youngest niece.
She was born in June of this year. My tenth niece overall, but my younger sister’s first child.
It may sound like an easy answer to say that an infant made me laugh this year. Babies have been making people laugh as long as there have been people, after all. Unique or not though, more than once I have laughed at her and her antics.
Yes, I laugh because she is a pretty baby. And I laugh when she laughs and smiles. That is obvious. However, I also laugh at the things that are not the normal “babies are funny” things to laugh at.
For example, I laugh at her non-laughing neutral face. Her default look if you will. Not that she is funny looking of course, but she has an expression, that I haven’t seen in all babies, that would seem to be communicating, “this situation is acceptable. It’s not fantastic or anything, but it will suffice.” A seemingly out of place (for an infant) detachment. She makes it clear sometimes that the world and the people in it do not always impress her, and I am amused by that.
I guess the closest thing I can think of to this face is the one the Caterpillar has in the 1951 Disney cartoon version of Alice in Wonderland. A “who are you” mentality she will opt to display sometimes.
She is also wise to cameras. She doesn’t often get caught laughing or smiling in a picture. So we get the wisdom of ages expression in most shots so far. Perhaps she is an old soul? Even if she is not, she is a unique, discernable soul already, and one of the things that has made me laugh most this year.
Reverb11: Five Guilty Pleasures
Today’s prompt was simple to understand.
Describe 5 guilty pleasures.
Easy to understand, perhaps. Yet not so easy to execute. For my usual position is that if it gives one pleasure, one shouldn’t be guilty about it. Yes, some sordid types do take pleasure from criminal acts, and my view would not apply in such cases. But by and large I am pretty close to the Wiccan edict of “If it harms none…”
The very concept of the guilty pleasure seems to me to be rooted in peer pressure. The notion of enjoying that which may not be deemed cool or admirable by those by whom we are surrounded in society. And I have never been one to sacrifice my preferences, tastes and tendencies at the altar of social popularity and acceptence.
In the spirit of the prompt, however, I will list five pleasures that, while not eliciting straight up guilt in me, probably would not be enjoyed by the more discerning or wise elements of my consciousness. Maybe. (Give me a break here, I am trying to shoe horn a pretty free spirit into these confines for the sake of blogging.)
In no special order:
1. Soda.
Soda is shit, let’s face it. A mild sugary acid with zero nutrional value. It is fattening, dehydrating (so they tell me), eats away at teeth and is particularly bad for someone like me who has had to deal with two specific medical conditions in the past. (Kidney issues and stomach ulcers.)
Yet if it were not for its unhealthy nature, I would have soda all the time. Coke in particular. (I used to have soda all the time…which is why I think the above mentioned issues occurred. Well, one of the reasons. Maybe.) If someone told me today that ice cold cola had no deleterious effects, I’d go out at by a 48 pack tonight.
The bubbles. The taste. The thirst quenching refreshment that would seem to fly in the face of biology. There are times when only a soda will do for me. Times even when only a Coke specifically will do it. (I want to hear nothing about them all tasting the same. They don’t. Period.)
And somehow, it makes me feel better when I am fluish. I was told once it was the caffine. I don’t know. I just know it works.
2. The movie Strange Brew
Despite borrowing certain elements from Hamlet (yes, that one), this movie about the misadventures of the Mackenzie Brothers, two idiot Canadian stereotypes based on characters that originated on SCTV is not what one would call high brow comedy. While it does have a few clever references during its occasional moments of satire, it is mostly a goofy farce revolving around misunderstandings, over the top theatrics, and beer. Lots of beer. It gives beer drinkers, Hamlet, and most certainly Canada a bit of a bad name. It is Three’s Company with a bit of accuman. It’s too adult to be a cartoon, but not by much. It elevated being inane and clueless into an art form. Everything that in theory Adam Sandler tries to do in all of his movies today, and I hate his movies.
Yet Strange Brew has been one of my favorites anyway-ever since my mother, in an ill-advised moment picked it up at the video store for me to watch as a child, based mostly on the cover art. I am sure she didn’t know what she was getting into, though she never objected thereafter.
I laugh at this movie even after all of these years. They say it takes more talent to play stupid than to play anything else as an actor. That being the case, Rick Moranis and Dave Thomas should have been Oscar contenders for this one.
3. Fantasy Football
As I type this I am only hours away from the final game of this, my second fantasy football regular season. I will once again, odds are, end with a losing record. And be pissed about it. Just as I have gotten pissed, royally pissed several times during my lackluster season this year, and royally pissed during my disappointing season last year. Luck is always against me in this game. Players that are sure things break a thumb on the bus, and can’t play. People I put on the bench have the game of their careers. Those players on my oppoonant’s team that have never done a thing suddenly become the biggest thing in the NFL, and beat me in the process. In the final two minutes of the week.
Second guessing. Indecision. Consistently bad, dumb luck. What-ifs. And all of the frustration that goes with those things. There is a reason they call it “football bingo”, as 60% of it is total chance, and getting pissed or depressed about it is almost as bad as cussing out a slot machine.
Yet I play. Despite threats to not do so again, I play. I am not as intense as I used to be, usually, but when a victory is close I still get antsy and excited. Especially when the player I need to excel appears on TV, and I can watch him live, upping my point totals towards an all too infrequent victory for me.
And the prize is nothing. I am in a free league. No money changes hands. It is not very temperate of me to delve so head long into such a luck based activity, knowing how unlucky I continue to be, just for bragging rights. In fact, it may be foolish. But I do it and probably will next year as well.
4. Power Ballads
Some are good and some are lousy. Like anything else. But my musically and artistically inclined aquaintances have for years pointed out that power ballads, like much pop music, follows some kind of formula of math, notes, and tempo, and hence all of them are, without my realizing it, exact replicas of one another.
“Play something at 3/4 time, start in an A or a G, include are high reverb guitar solo in the bridge, and end with a crescendo. People eat it up every time.”
Yeah, that’s all Greek to me. (I had to make up the terms to prove my point, don’t correct them please.) While I am not willing to concede that all power ballads are the result of a predictable formula moreso than other music, and while I am also not willing to accept the idea that in order to be good a song must always do something that nobody else has ever done, I will acknowledge similar elements among some of my favorites. That is what I am supposed to be guilty over, I guess. That it’s too easy, or caters to the masses. Or something.
But slow dance to Can’t Fight This Feeling with someone you find at least somewhat attractive and see if you don’t fall in love for a minute. Or at least in bed for a minute.
5. Perfume
It’s an antiquated, superficial, misogynistic remnant of a less informed past that appeals, in theory, to the more reptilian, less evolved parts of our brains. Not to mention the fact that much of it makes me sneeze. Perfume is like the soda of hygiene, having exactly zero to do with the person wearing it. Totally unnatural.
Yet there are certain fragrances that I find appealling when worn by a woman. In some ways certain personalities suit certain fragrances more than others, and when the correct combinations show up, they will increase the attractiveness of the woman.
I’ll never fall in love with a woman over perfume. But I could see myself choosing to sit a bit closer to her at a party because of it, and who knows what from there. (Bearing in mind I am still an introvert, and not going to let perfume trump my hate of small talk.)
And of course, I myself use cologne at times, completing the guilt factor.
So there are some pleasures over which many would feel guilty but I do not. What are yours?
Dabbling in Reverb11
Last year, several of my blogging friends took part in “Reverb”: a year end reflection on different subjects related to the previous year and its impact upon a person via daily blog posts during December. Each day had a specific prompt about which the blogger would write. It made for some enlightening reading.
I don’t want to promise that I will blog with intelligence every single day. That may not be doable. Yet the idea appealled to me, and though it would seem that the event is not as organized and centralized this year (there are multiple sources for the prompts in 2011, as opposed to one a year ago), I have decided to give some of the prompts a try, and see what happens. (Being here at my sister’s housesitting both frees and limits the nature of my daily activities. So it seemed like a good way to keep my writing and thought process sharp. Hence my Sunday post.)
So, for the 4th of December according to the list I am following, I am to answer this question:
What have you let go of this year, and how has it affected you?
Some things I have had to let go of by force. Such as moving into my mother’s spare room while my finances improve. Letting go of having my own place. But that involuntary relinguishing has spawned a set of voluntary releases. There are several sub-categories, but I think they can all be placed under the umbrella of having let go of my previous definition of success and worthiness.
I have been through many of those, and the truth is, I don’t usually acquire them, for one reason or the other. Some see the difficulty of my situation. Most just blame me for being a downer, and think I deserve my lack of success. But in either case I find throughout my life I have had to continually update what it means to be successful, or a good person. Or at least, the timeline for same.
Three years ago, when I moved into my now former apartment, I had planned to move out with enough money to upgrade by the time I was finished there. This was before I was on Twitter or even before Too XYZ, so I was seeking the more coventional job route at the time. Obviously that traditional job hunt was unsuccessful though the process led to my desire to become my own boss even more so than I had been in years past.
Again, the goal was to move out under my own success and money. Again, I was unable to do so. It was, and continues to be, somewhat depressing to me. Yet I could have railed against it more, or gotten even more pissed, or gotten nostalgic here on the blog about it. I didn’t. Nor did I insist on continuing in my new habitat the way I had expected myself to in the previous. I set aside the notion of success in a certain way, by certain means, by a cetain date.
I cannot say I am totally happy about this. This letting go could lead to my seclusion and complete surrender to failure. Don’t think I have not considered that risk. But by letting go of those mostly unattainable standards, (though they remain very much nearby in my mind) I opened the way for me to another possibility; I could also let go of the self-judgement of which I have been guilty for so long. This last year in particular.
How has this affected me? It may be too early to tell, as I have only just begun to engage in this perpective. As I mentioned, relinguishing my stern definitions of what it means to be a successful man could either lead to total desolation, and remaining in that spare room for years, without ever coming out. After all, I don’t know how to turn things around just yet. I am not sure if my ideas are sound, or if I am built for all of this.
Yet perhaps it can also affect me in a constructive manner. By letting go of my judgements of myself, my expectations, my very rigid timeline and the comparisons I was making between myself and the social “norm”, I could perhaps achieve a greater self-acceptence. It remains several blocks away and the sidwalk is icy, but I can see a corner I must turn, even before I am able to turn it. Releasing these definitions may allow me to slow down, reboot, and accept that by society’s standards I may be a failure though by my own I need not be.
So there you have it. Not the most compete answer, because this one is still unfolding. Like with most of these type of questions, I am not sure which of the many possible answers would be the most correct, or the most applicable. But this one, despite its recent arrival, seemed a good choice with which to start my Reverb experience. Whatever it may end up being.
Repost: "Yes Virginia. There Was a Writer."
As December opens and with it the holiday thoughts sounds and smells, I decided to repost one of my favorite blog entries from among my own work. It didn’t get much attention first time around, as you can see from the zero comments. But I am quite proud of the piece. Enjoy it here.
Ty Unglebower 