Day 197: Naptime Reflections

I just woke up from a nap. There were a lot of things happening in it that I didn't really understand. The main point I could get was that I would be traveling soon. To where or for how long, I couldnt tell you.

What I do recall, is having a strong desire to go see my goat, Ruby, before I left. 'I should go spend some time with her,' I'd thought, imagining myself giving her love as she rubbed her face on my leg in her particular - and signature - way. Such a sweet and gentle girl. With a beautiful red-brown color.

Despite being in a dream my conscienceness reminded me, 'but you can't, she's dead.'

The dream continued.

I was in what seemed like a meeting room/living room, with others slowing filing in. Two people, facilitators of the casual meeting, entered with boxes. They started pulling rubber banded stacks of some kind of cards out of the boxes, calling the name of the recipient with each new bunch. But they weren't given out at random. The cards were made specifically for each recipient. And I can only infer, the purpose was to give them out to others.

The alarm I'd set for my short nap then sounded. I never learned what the cards were actually for or where I was to travel with them.

Ain't that a lot like life. 

 

We have loved ones and lost ones (pets and people alike). We have tools and resources presented to us, even if we don't know what they are for or how to use them. And we are always traveling, be it through time, distance, or life.

Nothing in life is certain.

And a lot of things won't make sense until they're over.

But the reflection of our experiences - finding meaning and gratitude in all of them - is what allows us to make sense of things.

It's what allows us to learn.

And it's what keeps us moving toward the future.

Day 196: Bad Intentions

I have the belief that people don't have bad intentions.

Generally speaking, that is (sociopaths, obviously, are excluded from this statement). Naive as it may sound, it's with this belief that I've operated for the majority of my life. 

It's served me well in many situations. And it has equally gotten me into situations that could easily have ended very badly (and thankfully didn't).

This belief came fully into view when reflecting on my relationship with my last boyfriend. It lasted two years and quickly turned into one of the most volatile and unhealthy experiences of my life, thus far.
Just thinking about it, I felt embarrassed and ashamed at the numerous behaviors and situations I tolerated. Why would I allow so many things I knew weren't ok with me to happen, repeatedly?

Well - many reasons, but the biggest one is because I believed he didn't have bad intentions. That he was a good person, despite the bad behavior.

I don't think this is a flawed belief so much as it is an incomplete one. One that fails to account for the messages my intuition and instincts often tried so hard to tell me.

People don't have bad intentions, but they need to be called out when their actions hurt others.

Because how would they know otherwise?

At the time I didn't understand this part. I thought it should be obvious that if a person's actions hurt another, that it wasn't ok to do. But the reality is, not everyone knows this.

They aren't thinking of others when they make their decisions. They are thinking about themselves.

Just like the rest of us.

Every decision we make is made with the intent to help us, to fill a need in some way.

Often these needs are the unseen internal, emotional needs that allow us to feel safe, secure or accepted.

And even more often, we are completely unaware of them and how they are dictating our actions. As was the case in my experience.

Understanding the motives behind the behavior of others is helpful in order to offer compassion and humanity.

Being aware of our own beliefs is important in order to offer compassion and understanding to ourselves.

And, as I've recently come to learn, scrutinizing and adapting our beliefs when our reality takes on an air of unease is vital.

Because when your beliefs fully align with what feels good to you, the situations and people in your life are good to you, too.

Day 195: Why I Donate

 

Interviewer: We are asking real life donors what inspires them to donate.

 

Interviewer: Why don't you just buy snacks?

Day 194: Dating Definitions

What's your definition of dating?

I didn't realize until this week how important this question is. Not only to answer for yourself, but to learn about your potential suitors and matches.

On a recent first date 'intent' was discussed. "What are you looking for?"
'Something long-term' was the answer on both sides.
Then I made a comment about 'hook-up culture' and was immediately met with disagreement at the very idea existing.
My date's strong sentiments were that hook-up culture isn't a thing and if people want to have sex when they first meet that shouldn't matter.

Fair. Your body, your choice [in ALL of the ways]. The aspect missing from his argument, however, was intent. 

This is where one's definition of dating is very important.

Prior to the pandemic, I hadn't given my own definition much conscious thought. Then, I happened upon an article that worded it perfectly:

Dating is just that. You're gathering data to see if the person you're connecting with is someone worth your time, energy and eventual devotion.

For me, the intent of dating is getting to know a person so that I may carry out the above definition.

This is in stark contrast to my definition of 'hook-up culture,' in which the intent is not to get to know another person or make strong connections. But rather, to gain self-worth from an outside source within a short timeline.

There's no shame in either game, but I think it's important to get clear on which you're playing.

Taking time to identify your own definition of dating is important.
In the words of Dr. Sarah Katula:

That’s why we date. It’s an opportunity for us to grow as individuals, and if we’re lucky, find a partner.

Day 193: Coincidence or Meant To Be?

In two weeks I'll be starting a stand-up class at Second City. 

I received an email about it the other day, updating on class logistics.

It seems my chosen class time was so popular they had to create two simultaneous groups and I would be hearing about my placement shortly.

I decided to painted my nails.

Not 20 minutes later I received another email, notifying me of which class group I was assigned.

I was placed in the Teal group.

 

 

The exact same color as the nail polish I had just applied.

Is it a coincidence or a sign it's meant to be?
I don't know.
But I'm guaranteed to find out in a few weeks.
For now though, I'll just delight in the unexpected synchronicity that occurred.

Day 192: Meeting David

I sat on a bench in the park of Logan Square as I waited for my brunch companion to arrive.

Down the path from me was a saxophone player, piping out the melodies of various songs accompanied by recorded background tracks.

He was good.

'This will be a pleasant way to spend my time as I wait,' I thought.

As long as the few stray raindrops I felt didn't recruit more consistent friends...

I was about to start a search of alternative brunch spots in the area, not sold on the hour wait time for the original restaurant pick. But a nearby commotion quickly captured my attention.

I looked up to observe a group of young adults passing blindly by a homeless man, who was quick to call attention to their choice of deeming him invisible.

The group exited the park and the homeless man continued expressing his distaste for their behavior.

We made eye contact.

He then directed his comments towards me.

"Some people won't even give you a common courtesy of acknowledging you exist." (Or something along those lines.)

I expressed my agreement with him, that everyone should and deserves to be acknowledged. We are all people, after all.

He walked over towards me, stopping by the empty end of the bench.

"May I?" he asked.

"Of course," I consent and he sits down.

"What's your name?" I asked him.

"David," he answers.

David is in his mid to late forties, with grown-out curls, and a short graying beard. There are crumbs stuck in the hair around his mouth and his clothes are rather worn and torn. His two bandaged arms quickly catch my attention, but not nearly as much as his eyes. David has pale, blue eyes that surprised me.

Rather than the glazed view I've come to associate with the challenges of homelessness, David's eyes told a different story. They were bright and clear and unexpectedly pulled at me with the depth of soul they revealed.

I was taken aback.

"Hi, David. I'm Sarah," I responded.

"You have a Bible name, too," he commented.

We began a conversation.

David likes to read and enjoys perusing the Free Little Libraries in the neighborhood. There's an air of enlightenment about him and he is clearly on the path of evolving his level of consciousness. Something I would have missed entirely had we met before I went through coach training.

He shared his gift of song lyric knowledge and remembering all of the words to pretty much every song he's heard. 'A blessing and a curse,' he called it. The lyrics move him deeply, which makes sense as he, himself, is a poet.

Art has always been a part of his life. His dad owned a fine art gallery of 17th and 18th century American paintings when he was growing up. He recalled when he was around the age of 10, there had been an art show featuring a Georgia O'Keeffe work; a prominent memory for him.

I asked him what happened to his arms.

"I was attacked with a crowbar. My left elbow was broken and my right arm has deep lacerations."

As much as I tried not to, my eyes began to prickle with sole piercing tears. Horrified to hear the recounting of the cruelty he endured.

"I was over [assaulted]." Or maybe he said over beaten, I can't remember the exact phrasing. Whatever it was, it gave the impression he was justifying a small amount of harm towards him, but not enough to send him to the hospital. My heart pained at this. No person deserves to be beaten. I'm sure there was more to the story, but I chose not to go down that path. Instead, I blinked back tears and listened as he continued.

"There have been a lot of times where I could have died. But I'm still here."

'And very clearly for a reason,' I thought to myself.

He then shared his desire to do good in the world, through his art of poetry and the other skills and talents he has. The dedication to this mission was almost tangible, which is probably why I felt so compelled to learn more about him.

But our conversation got cut short when he saw someone nosing a little too closely around his stuff. (Which was scattered all over the park. I had wanted to inquire about that, too, but forwent the question in lieu of hearing more of his story.)

"Hey, that's mine - don't touch it!" he yelled from his seat on our bench.

"Leave that alone!" He warned again, then left me behind to guard his possessions.

It was a very strange encounter.

I've noticed I have deeply moving meetings (specifically with homeless people - interestingly enough) every few years.

Meeting David is definitely in a category of its own, though. For reasons I don't fully understand.

Perhaps it's because rather than having pity or sympathy and a desire to help, I instead had objectivity, openness and an intense desire to learn.

I think another factor coming into play is a somewhat spiritual one.

In what way?

I'm still unclear. But I would be lying if I said, upon looking him in the eyes, that I didn't have the passing thought, 

'I might be talking to Jesus right now.'

Day 191: Live Life Inside-out

Live life inside-out.

So often we live life outside-in.
With constant inundation of information and opinions, shoulds, coulds and need tos.

Criteria for how to live, act, look, Be.

And it's all coming from other people.

And yet, we see it and digest it as if it were our own idea.

That's outside-in living.

That's inauthentic living.

That's restrictive living.

To live inside-out is to let your own thoughts, opinions, likes and preferences, values and dreams direct your day to day and curate your future.

To live inside-out is to feel how you want to and put that out into the world. Not taking whatever the world gives you and hoping for the best.

To live inside-out is to choose oneself.

To live inside-out is to trust oneself.

To live inside-out is to free oneself.
[from self-criticism, judgement, comparisons, . . . ]