Well, there have been some hiccups along the way while in England, not the least of which was ending up with a flat tire in the middle of the mountains. Luckily, about an hour later, the tow-truck came and recused us, and we had a good talk with the driver.
Much like several people we know, he has chosen to live a little more simply, and spend the greater amount of his spare money travelling. We got stories and stories of all the places he’d been and seen, many of which were road-tripping across the USA. Lovely guy, and it made the whole day significantly less frustrating.

It also put me to thinking – though it makes other things more complicated/difficult, at least while I’m younger I’d prefer to live that way myself. Getting a life-long career job, a cushy income and lots of possessions are nice things to do, but I’d just love to travel. While it was a really different way of life, living out of a duffel bag really impressed upon me the fact that having a large number of possessions really doesn’t make me happier. Again, you give up some stuff living like that, but it gives you a lot of freedoms that you may not have otherwise. And there are just so many places I’d like to see! Between the lovely hour-long chat with him, and this trip, I’m getting the feeling more and more that taking some time to do just that would be exactly what I need.

So, in the next few years, if I’m able to swing it, I’m going to try spending a year or so travelling across the world. That’s the goal at least.

The finite limits of the Mind, and the endless hurt it can cause my Heart

A little while ago, I realized that I was beginning to rebound after the ending of my last relationship. Upon determining this crush actually existed, I had a couple of choices – ignore it (Lawful Good), act on it (Chaotic Evil in every way), or crush it (Lawful Evil). I ignored it for a while, enjoying his attention and getting to know him a little better, while still trying to pick myself up after the most recent experiment of being in a relationship. There was, however, ANOTHER LADY – and though nothing had really gone on between them (from what I’ve been told - I’d say that’s a load of hogwash), holy hell – it hurt. I was surprised at how desperately I did not like that situation. After dancing around the subject for a week or two more, I felt that I’d had it and decided it was time to do something about this crappy crush that had become much bigger than I’d suspected.

So I decided to do what I’ve been great at for a long time – I decided to crush the crush.
I spent a good two days internally seething and cauterizing that emotion for him out of my heart. At the end of it all, I found that I had succeeded in my efforts; the crush was crushed.

Fast-forward a few weeks (which felt like decades) – I’d graduated, I’d worked at GARF for a while, I’d started some job training – everything was hunky-dory. I’m chatting with said former crush - Mr.See-Saw – and he had been under the impression that I was angry with him, or at least that something had me out of sorts enough to make him really uncomfortable around me.
Interesting, I think. After a while, it comes out that I’d been working on forcibly suppressing my heart to give up its silly notions of affection, as my brain certainly knows what is better for me. I’d been sort of miserable during the experience and a fair bit after, but life was moving along. And, not to toot his horn, Mr.See-Saw came up with one of the most profound things I’ve ever heard. In response to me explaining my actions, he said that I ‘should not seek to crush the infinite with the finite.’ [close, but not the exact quote – need my phone for that..] The actions of your finite mind, which is all of *your* understanding, should not seek to suppress or control or quench the needs of the heart, which links you to everything greater than your own understanding.

Beautifully said – poetic and lovely, and oh so right. And I appreciated the wisdom extended to me, and I’ve continued on friendly terms as best I can. And I’ve moved right along.

Or so I thought.

A few days ago, while I’ve been going through a transition, I realized how huge that lesson is for me. The pure action of destroying that emotion for anyone has had a lot of later consequences that I couldn’t have foreseen. It has also rebuilt several of my walls, including terror at the thought of vulnerability or commitment to any person. Mistrust in myself when handling the emotions of any one person. A lack of desire to really connect with anyone that I don’t know intimately already. A ridiculous need to cling to someone important to me.

But most importantly, the remorse I have for the action isn’t nearly enough to re-open that door I slammed shut with my mind. My silly, finite, incredibly limited mind decided that the heart didn’t need an emotion – and I, in my childishness, decided to let it make my decisions for me.

Thoughts and Battles with Beauty

SO, here's something I've not written about much, and something I feel really uncomfortable writing about. But here goes!

As a female, it’s almost silly to take up valuable time saying that I’ve had a lot of issues coming to terms with my looks, but (as luck would have it) I tend to be silly. There’s been a lot of alteration of how I view myself as viewed by others in the past few weeks, hence me wanting to write about it. (Let’s ignore how horribly that was phrased, shall we?)

Ever since I was relatively young, I’ve had a very complex way of looking at myself. On the one hand, I know how incredibly blessed I am to be relatively pretty – there are no deformities, no ridiculous scars, nothing that really makes me stand out of a crowd. For that I am incredibly grateful, and every time that I decide to think poorly of myself, I pull that thought forward.

On the other hand, until recently I’ve never thought of myself as being good-looking, or having anything more than a plain appearance. I decided when I was younger that I didn’t want to do the whole ‘makeup’ thing, as it’d be hiding what I really look like behind a layer of paint. This continues to befuddle some people, and I’m more flexible about wearing it when the occasion calls for it, but it’s infrequent at best.

Another, possibly unexpected, deference mechanism that helps me not deal with my looks is… *drumroll please* …my hair. I have magnificent, ridiculously long hair, and I love it. And for years, I’ve unconsciously used it as a sheltering technique – I have viewed my hair as that ‘one thing’ that sets me apart from others. Without it, as far as I was concerned, I’d be invisible. Now, while it does indeed set me apart from the majority of the population, I never truly understood the degree to which I depended on my hair for validation as a girl/woman/human/etc.
Over the past year, partially out of convenience and partially due to the fact that I just wanted a change of pace, I’ve been wearing my hair up (whereas I used to let it stay down and out of control). I’ll vary between braids and headbands, but most days see me with my hair wrestled away into a bun. A strange thing occurred during this transition – I’ve started getting complimented on my looks, as opposed to my hair.

Disclaimer: I don’t want to sound big-headed about this. It’s not that I’m lauding myself on being noticed – the point I’m trying to make is that I am, and have consistently been, >surprised< by this.

I only really noticed about a month or so ago, and it rocked my world when I realized that someone might actually consider me to be good looking. Blew. My. Mind. The fact that I would be noticed, that I would stand out or be seen by others, without my hair being the focal point of their attention still has me staggered. It’s something I can’t really wrap my head around, probably because I don’t see myself that way – I continue to see myself as the plain, plump little girl that I’ve been for the past 23 years, and I’ll probably continue doing so.

Another catalyst in this whole mental-explosion was a guy telling me about a month ago that he finds me beautiful.
Now, any guy worth his salt knows that to make his lady happy, he needs to compliment her and mean it. (Ladies, you too!) I’ve been blessed with several very sweet guys in my life that did everything they could to make me believe that I am what they saw – their pretty girlfriend/date/friend/’person they associate with’. And while I’ve trained myself to be much better at taking a compliment, until Mr.C (for Catalyst) came along I did not believe it. Not a once.
Somehow, however, over the course of one weekend, I felt prettier and more loved - hell – beautiful – than I’d ever done in the rest of my life combined. I don’t know what it was that convinced me. Was it said differently? Was the chemistry just right? Was it that special smile or lingering breath that won me over?

I have no idea.

All I know is, my mind was, and continues to be, completely blown by the notion that he’d find me pretty. 

Now, to be fair, I don’t know what I can do with the information, aside from be more grateful for what I’ve been blessed with. It’s one of the biggest shifts in self-worth I’ve had about myself recently, and continually surprises me when it’s called to mind. And now when I’m complimented, though I still have the pessimistic and evil voices in my head screaming at me that all I’m hearing are kind lies, I have another, kinder voice telling me to believe and thank them.

I’m still in the transition mode of being surprised by the notion every time it hits me – but I feel blessed that I have begun to look in the mirror and react with gratefulness, as opposed to wishing to see someone else.

Thank you, Mr.C.