Spiders

Ok, I may have an irrational fear of spiders.  I do not like them at all.  I can't even stand to look at pictures of them without chilling all over.   If I do not conquer this anxiety, living alone is going to be a disaster.  Unless anyone knows of someone who is on-call 24/7 for this job? If a spider is on the floor or fairly low to the ground, I can handle things.  No problem.  Well, smaller problem.  I still need to work up some nerve.  It is when they are out of my reach or above my head, that the situation gets grim.  I try to squish them, but my shoulders and arms literally freeze up.  It is the strangest thing.  It is like the pesky arachnids are using some sort of Jedi mind trick on me (I have never seen Star Wars, so I assume this is how it works).  My mind begins to imagine every place they could fall if I don't hit them just right.  Perhaps, even falling so quickly I don't see where they land.  I would then have to move out of the room for at least 48 hours, until the creep has been found or hopefully relocated.  Then, there is my biggest fear of all...LANDING ON YOU!  I can't even think about that last scenario without my paper bag handy.  Also, please do not share any fun facts about the number of spiders that crawl into your various orifices whilst sleeping each year.  Does this information really do anyone any good?  We have enough things to keep us up at night.  By the way,  I am completely aware of how crazy and ridiculous I sound. 

You may be wondering what this has to do with "What I know now?"  You'd be right to wonder.  I guess I do now know that this is an aberrant anxiety that I need to attend to.  Stay tuned for an update on my fear blog.  I don't know when this fear will be "conquered," but I have less than one year to do it.  Maybe I will save it for last.

I'm so in love with my music

I love this quote by Maya Angelou
"Music was my refuge.  I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness." 
 
Music has a POWERFUL influence.  This I know for sure.  Throughout my life, song lyrics have guided me, inspired me, lifted me and shaped me into who I am today.  For the occasional listener, this may seem like an overstatement.  For the die hards out there, I know you know exactly what I mean. Then you have the actual instrumentation in the song.  It has the ability to transport you out of your mind.  It can be an incredible feeling.  The words and sounds just take over your body and you can feel them flowing through you.  It's hard to describe the feeling, but you can feel the notes pulsing through you and literally raise the hairs on your arm.  Getting goosies from a song.....that is a great feeling. 

Some of my earliest memories involve music. We have pictures of me, still in a diaper, walking around with my playschool boombox on my shoulder. Even the very, very few home videos we have are of me listening to music and dancing. I'm pretty sure one was to Whitesnake's "Is This Love," but still, music nonetheless. I don't think I have ever gone a day without listening to music, definitely not since entering the teen years.  There is a 24/7 radio in my head, so that may be throwing off me off on my approximate age.  I remember in 4th grade we had a fun day at school where we were all supposed to bring in our favorite cds to listen to for the day.  I brought in The BeeGees....I was immediately not cool.  Thankfully, it was forgotten by the weeks end.  My coolness was so unappreciated back then. 

I guess my point is, music has been a constant in my life, something I could always count on.  When I had a bad day, I came home and knew which "friend" to turn to. Let me say though, that Paul, Ringo, John and George could pretty much be counted on for anything.  If the world was getting me down, Sam or Bob was who I called on.  If my parents were fighting, it was Lauryn.  If I was just a little pissed off, hello Kurt.  Feeling a little different, yep I called on Mariah (Laugh all you want about that, she could sing and actually had some decent lyrics back in the day).  Then there were Liam and Noel,  Tom, Ben, Etta, Joni, Ella, Eddie, Billie, Otis, and Louis.  Those were my "besties."   I had a lot of friends, what I can I say.   I did not discriminate.  Whether my world was bad or glorious, these guys just seemed to get it.  I am forever grateful to them for their guidance, assurance that it really would get better, and sometimes the pat on the back that was needed to power through.  I would not be who I am today without my music. This is What I Know Now.

SIDENOTE:
It makes me kind of sad, and a little frightened, to see the artists that kids today have available to turn to.  Kesha?  Yikes. Katy?  Reallly?  Bieber?  Eh.  I worry about the shallowness and priorities of future generations.  The self-absorbment promoted in some of the music today, literally makes my skin crawl, but not in a good way.  I think I am going to hide the radio from my children someday and bust out all my old jams.  At least I know they will be in good hands. 

Halo

In the beginning of a relationship, seeing the good in someone is easy.  When you are infatuated with them, everything they say is adorable.  They could, almost literally, do no wrong.  Eventually, that golden light from the halo you have placed above them, will lose its glow.  What if what you now see is not that beautiful?

"Would you still say you love me, under this ordinary moonlight?"  Kendall Payne (Scratch)

You are special

It is hard to see in yourself what others see in you.  Compliments were few and far between in our house growing up.  I absolutely do not mean to imply that I didn't feel like my parents loved me or were not proud of me.  It was just something that was known and not outwardly expressed I guess.  So, when I am complimented, I am not exactly sure what to do or how to process it.  It makes me physically uncomfortable and at times nauseous.  Lately, I have been trying to understand why I cannot just be happy when someone tells me I am beautiful or smart or even special.  Aren't those words every girl longs to hear?  Why do they cause such anxiety in me? 

Is it because those you love are the ones you long the most to hear say those words?  Or perhaps you feel that if those that know you the most do not say you are special how could someone you barely know be right?  Or maybe you are just screwed up? 

I do not write this because I want pity and definitely not so I can be complimented for it.  Surely, there is someone out there that can relate to these feelings and that gives me comfort in knowing I am not alone in my craziness.  If nothing else, this blog has been quite cathartic for me.  I have embarked on this deep introspective tour of myself and believe it or not, am growing. 

I've decided it all boils down to me believing I am truly special.  I think we all at one point in our lives believed we were.  Maybe I need a jazzy dance routine and a sweet new neon outfit to make me feel that way again.  It sure worked as a kid! It will take time and effort to get to that place, but I feel like I can do it.

"I used to think I was special. Only I have proved me wrong."  Kendall Payne (Scratch)

People have relationships with their fathers?

Growing up, it was always strange to see my friends actually get along with their fathers, but even weirder seeing their fathers WANTING to be with them.  It was a foreign concept to me.  As a child, it never occurred to me that my dad was different.  I didn't know anything else.  He was the same with all three of us, so I just assumed that was normal. It wasn't until I started going to sleepovers at other friend's homes that I began to notice the different dynamic.  As children, we internalize everything.  We wonder what it is that we are doing that makes our parent that way with us.  That is what I did. I thought that I wasn't trying hard enough to do things that would make him proud.  I decided since my interests in dance and gymnastics was no doubt not impressive to him, that I needed to try to do things he did.  I started hanging out with him in his shop, building things and tagging along when he went fishing.  It never failed, I was always in the way.  It bothered me for years.

I'm not sure at what age it clicked for me.  That it wasn't my problem.  At some point you realize that your parents lives exist outside of you and that the world doesn't actually revolve around you alone.  You all the sudden realize that there are other variables involved outside of what you see in your little bubble. Then it occurs to you to just let it go.

I've come to understand that my dad loves me in his way.  He may not be the most affectionate, nurturing or uplifting man, but if I were in trouble I know he'd be there.  That's certainly more than some have. 

"I tried hard to have a father, but instead I had a dad" - Serve the Servants by Nirvana

Trust

"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them. "
Ernest Hemingway 

This is a difficult quote for me to live by.  Wow is it hard! Trust is not an inherent part of my personality.  I definitely have reason to be the way I am, but is it really doing me any good to hold onto the past and let it affect my present?  It is freeing to let go and quit questioning the motives of others.  My neck is certainly less sore from watching my back. Easier said than done though.  Can I start with the little things?  Why not give people the benefit of the doubt?  I'm not going to fork over money to the next person that asks and swears they'll pay it back, but maybe instead of analyzing everything a person says, simply accept it. 

Memories

Our memories may not last a lifetime. I want to be determined to live in the moment.  Soak in everything about those I love.  Memorize every innate detail about them. Study everything around me. Take nothing for granted. 

"It stung like a violent wind that our memories depend on a faulty camera in our minds" Death Cab for Cutie (What Sarah Said)

I love you Grandma Baby <3

Deservedness

There is no word in the english language I loathe more than the word "deserve." It has become so overused, so much so that I would love to permanantly remove it from the dictionary.  It makes me cringe.   I do understand varying worth ethics and wanting to be awarded recognition for your hard work.  I still feel there are better words than deserve.  It's such a selfish word.  Why are we so quick to say we deserve something over another?  Is there, no doubt, someone else out there more deserving than us?  Everytime I use the word, it makes me feel like I'm wishing misery on someone else.  If I look at the big picture, I don't feel like I deserve anything in life. I'm grateful for what I have and have been given.  Nothing is owed me, nor am I entitled to it because I want it or someone else has it and I don't.
At least I try to remember this....

Empathy

To be able to put yourself in someone else's shoes is beyond powerful and is the key to understanding.  Without understanding there is no knowledge.  In a world full of tragedy, it is bound to have a profound effect on our emotions.  We can't just bury our heads in the sand or dismiss what we see as irrelevant to us, since much of it may not directly affect our lives.  But lives are affected.  Our fellow man is suffering.  Cultivating empathy requires of us the attitude that when someone else is hurting, so are we.  I think we live in a world of self-entitlement, where we are told that we deserve to feel good all the time.  Unfortunately, that is not in the cards for the vast majority.  We should strive to feel what they feel, see how they see, no matter how painful.  We may not have the means to make their lives better, but being less quick to judge someone for their circumstances, offering a listening ear or just sharing a smile really can make a difference.  And maybe it won't, but we will be better for it.

“Whenever you feel like criticizing any one...just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald

Honesty

As I've gotten older, honesty is a quality that I value most in a person.   When you are a child, I think you like people to "tickle your ears," so to speak, because criticism is an absolute devastation at that age. Ironically, it is the time in our lives when we are probably the most honest with people.

Why, now, are we so afraid of truth?  Are we really protecting the other person or ourselves?  Or are we protecting an image of ourselves?  Shouldn't we all, in our adulthood, be able to handle honesty, no matter how brutal? 

Honesty makes us vulnerable and I think that terrifies us.  Vulnerability shouldn't be feared, but rather embraced.  It is the only authentic state. It is what makes us human.