sometimes, things work out just right
Yes indeed they can from time to time. It always seems to be a pleasant surprise. I guess there is more cynic in me than I would like to admit at times. Recently I decided to take a dance class and actually did it, not just talk about it. My honest expectation was just to get myself out into new areas outside my normal circle so I could interact with new people and hopefully learn a valuable skill along the way.
I am on my way, happily.
Tonight I went out to a dance outside of class with another of my classmates and to our surprise we actually really danced and didn't feel foolish. We danced. We smiled. We laughed. We talked. We both generally just had one simple nice evening that I hope gave us both the confidence that we can do so again no matter if it is together or separately.
One little step forward. One small moment of putting yourself out there to do something for yourself just hoping it might work out ok. Nothing compared to Neil Armstrong but a good one step nonetheless.
bended vision
Isn't funny how our vision can be bended? Bended by the moment, by the time, by our age, by our mood, by our emotion. It also circles. It brings us back around. We see similarities in separate moments. We see connections that may or may not really be. Something as simple as sight, our taking in of light into our brains so highly blurred by the higher ability to reason and apply our human flaw to it.
That is the truth isn't it really, that there is no one real truth as seen through human eyes? Think about it. How many eyewitnesses can have completely different accounts of the same event? Not even taking into account the quality of our eyesight it is amazing how we can see more what we want or hope or think we see that what is actually there. How shocked would we be to see video accounts of our lives that our own eyes paint such pictures of. Do our lives, our memories of living, then become more art than fact?
Art is subjective. One painting can evoke so many emotions or thoughts all over the spectrum just depending who is looking at it. The trained eye vs. the untrained. The old vs. the young. The saint vs. the sinner.
Seeing a friend through bended vision creates these questions. Seeing them maybe for what they really are, or maybe just for what I need them to currently be. I wonder which one it is. I wonder which one am I. What did I need before? What do I need now? Which one need was and is more necessary for me to go on as I should.
This bending can then open up new visions. Visions of others. Visions of new friends, or returns of old ones. Layering upon layer of new truths or old lies. Possibly old truths and new lies. Either way not really ever knowing what makes the difference other than the point of perception within the moment that I choose to close my eyes and make a choice, create an action, then... and only then seeing what happens.
modesty
Is modesty dead?
I wonder about this. Really I do. I wonder if I am the only guy around who doesn't want to see a woman flash her breasts in a crowd.
Yes I am a man, a straight man, who does have a pulse. Seriously, but I just don't want to see it. It really makes me feel bad inside. It seems unexplainable. It seems irrational. Maybe it is. I do not discount the fact that this could just be one of my "things".
I wonder though, it can't be a bad thing to be a thing. I like allure. I like a little mystery. I like a woman who dresses in a classy way. In this instant gratification american capitalistic materialistic world we live in when it comes to a woman I like to know that if I am going to see anything that it is something done privately and with thought and meaning. Is this just selfishness disguised as noble intentions? I'll grant you that it could be. Maybe I am just fooling myself. However if I am why does it bother me so easily as it does? Why have I always looked away when I knew those moments were about to happen? Do I just hold onto this chivalry as some selfish quest to be nobler than thou?
It could very well be all of these things wrapped in one big mess. The more I wonder and spend time with just myself learning what alone means, learning more of who I am by myself everything is more combined and complicated than it is simple and seperate. Obvious sure cause we are all human all comprised of a complex system of biochemistry. Why shouldn't it be all one big human mess. I think we just compartmentalize everything just to somewhat keep from going stark raving mad.
I know one little thing. I would be happier knowing I would not have to avert my eyes anymore. I know this is not the case so I will just have to deal with it, therefore I write.
If for no other reason, to put it in its own little compartment and put it away so I can feel sane as I drift off to sleep.
may i feel
Why is it that when I find a woman who i care about deeply that they decide that I am not allowed to feel anything without it being a negative reflection on them?
Is this a generalization, yes to a degree. However there is truth to it.
I feel I am not allowed to feel bad or hurt or upset or mad at anything without it somehow becoming that I am judging them or looking down on them. This really isn't the case. I really do my best not to judge. Maybe it is my words, or how I say them (even if they are written) that sets this whole thing in motion.
I knew a lady I worked with once that nobody liked. They all said she was so condescending. I then would listen carefully to her and realized or at least came to believe that she wasn't trying to it was just her way of speaking. People just seemed to take it too personal. Maybe I was just naive.
Maybe I am doing something like she did. Maybe I sound high and mighty or self righteous. I really am not sure. I will have to try to examine this.
Even so I do just simply feel frustrated that I do always listen so much for these women who have crossed paths with me only to have them not seem to want to listen to me when I most need it. Simply listen and not speak of how it effects them. Can they just put their feelings aside for a moment for me? It seems like something I can do, why not them?
The scary thing is I wonder if I am attracted to this frustration on some level. That also needs examining.
Wish me luck.
I just want to find that clear communication with some nice girl. I hope that isn't to much to ask.
Effort
what does effort mean anymore?
If you would ask most people about their ideal relationship with a love they would probably mention how easy it would be, how effortless things would just mesh. I wonder why this is. Why do people seem to want things that are effortless? Do not misunderstand me I can see the appeal of easy in many aspects in life. Most people really would not want to have everything be hard. However doesn't effort mean something when it comes to relationships? Isn't a good relationship worth the effort?
I understand we all have our limits. We have our breaking points. There comes a time when one can give so much effort and loose themselves in the process. I am sure I did that. I am sure I gave up in ways as well. I would be the first person to tell you I am not perfect. I have never claimed to be or tried to be perfect. Somehow being a "nice guy" lends itself to people thinking that I have come to understand. I am not sure why that is. How does nice become perfection? How does simple effort become pressure?
I am reminded of a Christmas exchange I participated in at a place I worked once. You know the standard secret Santa game. You are given someone's name that you are to give little gifts to during the week and they do not know who it is. In this scenerio I received a coworker's name that happened to sit just on the other side of the cubicle wall from me. It happened that we were given a suggestion list of three items or themes or areas to give our secret Santa a hint of what would be likable gifts. Well I had heard my coworker talking about her list as she filled it out so I actually ended up with more information than just a list.
Armed with this and some simple observations of what she had sitting on her desk I was able to pick out simple inexpensive yet very appropriate items for the secret Santa week. Each day Monday through Thursday I enjoyed hearing her talk to our coworkers who sat next to her about how cool it was her secret Santa had picked out the perfect little gift. She was baffled at how her Santa picked out not only nail polish from her list but the exact brand she loved and a perfect color.
On Friday we all exchanged final gifts (valued at less than ten dollars) and revealed who we were. On her list was cookies. For the final gift I simply gave her a basket that had a snack pack of oreos, a pilsbury frozen roll of chocolate chip cookies, a couple of plastic cookie cutters, ten cookie recipes printed from the internet and a small little cookie monster doll. My total price was just a few cents over ten dollars.
She was, as were most of our department, surprised that I was her secret Santa. I guess since they were mostly women they didn't imagine a man simply paying attention. Knowing my gender I do not fault them for this too much. This coworker at the end of our little Christmas party came up to me and simply said thank you for making it a good week.
See I knew life was hard for her. Why, because she talked about her life to us as coworkers will do. She was a single mom out on her own for the first time and trying to do well at this new job to support her and her sick son. It was easy to tell how much her son meant to her. Several pictures of him were on her desk and computer. You could hear her love and devotion for him in her voice. I knew she must be sacrificing, willingly, a time when most young people are all focused on themselves for the love of her son. I imagine those simple little gifts that were for her was a nice reminder that she deserved a little in return.
Her thanking me was easily worth the effort I put into secret Santa. I just read her list. Happened to overhear her thinking as she was filling it out what she might get. I noticed the brand name on the nail polish sitting on her desk. I saw that her son was holding an Elmo doll in one of her many pictures, plus what little kid just doesnt love Sesame Street, right?
Why will that little bit of just paying attention to someone besides oneself make people feel scared? Why did she seem to not only understand but appreciate my effort when others do not? Maybe it was the context of the secret Santa game that gave it credibility. Maybe the fact that other than that week her and I were never more than coworkers. We never became friends. I am not sure why, it just didn't happen. I didn't try to become one or not become one. For that week though I turned out to be a pretty good secret Santa, because of my effort.
I like giving effort. To me people are worth it. That is probably a naive sentiment but it is who I am. I will as far as I can tell always be a "nice guy". I will not regret being so, just feel sad that more and more it seems I do not know the people who understand and not fear it.
I hope that isn't whining even though it quite possibly is.
