I've spent the past two days playing with an emotional abacus. Does A equate B? Do C and F outweigh D (or at least even out)? Does E even exist? This is what I do when presented with a decision that lacks anything even remotely resembling fact, logic or definition. I make my own. We're still tallying in the counting house, though, and I have a feeling that process is going to take awhile.
But while I've been doing that, I started thinking in other directions. As I do when my mental hard drive has been set a very long and tedious task. Mostly about people and change and how things happen over time and accumulate and we never really pay attention to that accumulation.
Everyone changes. That's an established fact. It happens in small increments over time as we experience new things, learn new lessons, meet new people and places. These little changes can be good. They help us become who we are, if we let them change us in the right way.
This past year I've watched a lot of friends go through some pretty big changes, and I find myself thinking about the person I met, and the qualities I respected and admired in them then. Some of them haven't changed much since then. Maybe a little more grown up, maybe a little more experienced, but when I look at them now I can see that person I was first drawn to and appreciated. Others - and this is the real focus at the moment - I find myself searching and searching for any trace of those good qualities and the person I'd known. And that is upsetting.
I believe that loyalty given should never be taken away. It's one of those promises you make forever, and if you start breaking the forever promises, than nothing can be counted on. At the same time, what if you find yourself standing at a point where you realise you just might have outgrown that person you pledged your loyalty to? To put a little less callously, what if you look at the way they've changed and realise that they are no longer at all the person you knew and loved, and that the person they've become is something... negative and destructive? And how do you tell when that point has been reached, or if it's just a momentary period of difficulty?
I think, at a certain point in your life - and if you're under 25 or so, you can wander off at this point - you have to stop and question how you're spending your time. Especially if you feel like you're not going anywhere with your life. If every "good night out" is spent getting high, getting drunk, or tripping, and the most you do about changing your situation is whine about having to make a few compromises to fit into the corporate machine and pay the bills, maybe you need to think a little bit about growing up. And this is coming from Peter Pan, so you know it's srs bsns.
I've taken some time to get to where I wanted to go, and I'm still not where I actually want to be, yet, but I'm getting there. Part of the delay had to do with sorting out medical and psychological stuff. Part of it had to do with trying (and failing) to fit into an educational system that just didn't work for me. And not really having a clear concept of what I wanted to do. For the longest time I had this battle between getting a degree that would land me a nice, respectable, stable job and getting a degree that I was actually passionate about (but much less likely to support me). And, yes, my lovelies, I went through various phases of excess along the way, and even now I'm not disinclined to the occasional indulgence, but.
And really. This is the thought I always have when people tell me about the various methods of intoxication: You're missing life. There is a massive world of brilliance (and some not so brilliant bits) out there that you never actually see because you're not sober enough to see it. Because you're too stuck in your ways to venture into something different and unknown because gasp! It might be a little bit scary.
I'm wandering a bit, I realise. These thoughts can be ever so difficult to tame at times.
I know a lot of people who fall into that ever-ambiguous "alternative" label (and you know how I feel about labels), but they like it, cling to it, flaunt it around as something close to a badge of superiority over the rest of the world. They are so liberal and so controversial, raging against societal conventions at every turn mostly just because they're societal conventions. None of those things are necessarily bad, but I find myself looking at them and wondering what exactly is your contribution in life?
More specifically: why should I respect you?
For the most part, I'm a fairly liberal person. I have a set of rules on how to live, but they only apply to me, and those rules have been formed over some very serious and careful examination of myself and what I'm capable of. Everyone else, I can look at and said: Well, that's not for me, but whatever works for you. And I'm pretty damn accepting of a lot of things that aren't for me, conventional and otherwise.
So very early this morning, when I found myself being derided for not living a life of partying every night, loose-to-the-point-of-nonexistent definitions on love and relationships, dropping everything that doesn't have "good vibes" (including someone who's having a very bad day) because it doesn't feel good, the most I was capable of thinking was: what. the. fuck.
The contradiction of the statements with the person they were coming from were enough to short-circuit my brain, and the only thing I was really able to think was: what. the. fuck.
Which leads us right back to the beginning and the way people change, and whether it's something that can be lived with, or it's better to just walk away.
But while I've been doing that, I started thinking in other directions. As I do when my mental hard drive has been set a very long and tedious task. Mostly about people and change and how things happen over time and accumulate and we never really pay attention to that accumulation.
Everyone changes. That's an established fact. It happens in small increments over time as we experience new things, learn new lessons, meet new people and places. These little changes can be good. They help us become who we are, if we let them change us in the right way.
This past year I've watched a lot of friends go through some pretty big changes, and I find myself thinking about the person I met, and the qualities I respected and admired in them then. Some of them haven't changed much since then. Maybe a little more grown up, maybe a little more experienced, but when I look at them now I can see that person I was first drawn to and appreciated. Others - and this is the real focus at the moment - I find myself searching and searching for any trace of those good qualities and the person I'd known. And that is upsetting.
I believe that loyalty given should never be taken away. It's one of those promises you make forever, and if you start breaking the forever promises, than nothing can be counted on. At the same time, what if you find yourself standing at a point where you realise you just might have outgrown that person you pledged your loyalty to? To put a little less callously, what if you look at the way they've changed and realise that they are no longer at all the person you knew and loved, and that the person they've become is something... negative and destructive? And how do you tell when that point has been reached, or if it's just a momentary period of difficulty?
I think, at a certain point in your life - and if you're under 25 or so, you can wander off at this point - you have to stop and question how you're spending your time. Especially if you feel like you're not going anywhere with your life. If every "good night out" is spent getting high, getting drunk, or tripping, and the most you do about changing your situation is whine about having to make a few compromises to fit into the corporate machine and pay the bills, maybe you need to think a little bit about growing up. And this is coming from Peter Pan, so you know it's srs bsns.
I've taken some time to get to where I wanted to go, and I'm still not where I actually want to be, yet, but I'm getting there. Part of the delay had to do with sorting out medical and psychological stuff. Part of it had to do with trying (and failing) to fit into an educational system that just didn't work for me. And not really having a clear concept of what I wanted to do. For the longest time I had this battle between getting a degree that would land me a nice, respectable, stable job and getting a degree that I was actually passionate about (but much less likely to support me). And, yes, my lovelies, I went through various phases of excess along the way, and even now I'm not disinclined to the occasional indulgence, but.
And really. This is the thought I always have when people tell me about the various methods of intoxication: You're missing life. There is a massive world of brilliance (and some not so brilliant bits) out there that you never actually see because you're not sober enough to see it. Because you're too stuck in your ways to venture into something different and unknown because gasp! It might be a little bit scary.
I'm wandering a bit, I realise. These thoughts can be ever so difficult to tame at times.
I know a lot of people who fall into that ever-ambiguous "alternative" label (and you know how I feel about labels), but they like it, cling to it, flaunt it around as something close to a badge of superiority over the rest of the world. They are so liberal and so controversial, raging against societal conventions at every turn mostly just because they're societal conventions. None of those things are necessarily bad, but I find myself looking at them and wondering what exactly is your contribution in life?
More specifically: why should I respect you?
For the most part, I'm a fairly liberal person. I have a set of rules on how to live, but they only apply to me, and those rules have been formed over some very serious and careful examination of myself and what I'm capable of. Everyone else, I can look at and said: Well, that's not for me, but whatever works for you. And I'm pretty damn accepting of a lot of things that aren't for me, conventional and otherwise.
So very early this morning, when I found myself being derided for not living a life of partying every night, loose-to-the-point-of-nonexistent definitions on love and relationships, dropping everything that doesn't have "good vibes" (including someone who's having a very bad day) because it doesn't feel good, the most I was capable of thinking was: what. the. fuck.
The contradiction of the statements with the person they were coming from were enough to short-circuit my brain, and the only thing I was really able to think was: what. the. fuck.
Which leads us right back to the beginning and the way people change, and whether it's something that can be lived with, or it's better to just walk away.
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