Do not allow my lack of communication to become a trickling stream that carves a canyon through the bedrock of your security, for I will predicate my own sicknesses onto the stratification that you have organized as your firm and justified pillars of the good life.
More to come.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Monday, February 9, 2015
2/9/15
When I was a child before I started school I used to love hearing my sisters practice piano and to listen to my dad play as he does most days. I was so excited to start going to school because that meant that I too could begin my lessons playing piano and I too would begin to be able to create things in the same realm as the people who were most important to me. I would go with my mom to pick up my sisters from their lesson from the teachers home who lived just down the road from our house. She was an elderly lady with full on gray hair and the classic big round glasses on her wrinkled face. She would give me pieces of candy whenever I would come to visit. This gave me even more of a reason to want to start going to lessons of my own. I was so eager and so ready to learn. The first few years were good and I learned a lot of basics though I realized early that I never had too great of a potential for the craft. I also had troubles following the music with my eyes and translating what I saw into the appropriate finger movements. It seemed as if the teacher took this as a personal slight at some point and this began a very rocky and almost abusive relationship between student and teacher. I felt inadequate and was quickly overwhelmed by the expectation that I would progress as fast or faster than my sisters. My teacher became very critical of my performance during lessons and it really gave me a bitter feeling during my practice time at home. I became lax in my practicing efforts which only exacerbated the negative feelings I was having about my performance. This was very noticeable to the teacher but instead of nurturing and trying to help me grow she began calling me things like worthless, pathetic, and awful, in regards to my playing, but I took this as an extension of who I was and my value as a person. I would often come back from practice crying and for three years I begged my parents to allow me to quit playing but for some reason they did not take me seriously or believe what I told them of my experience. I was being openly ridiculed and made to feel worthless in a space that was meant to be that of growth and development. I was at the end of what I felt I could bare so I asked my dad to come with me to a lesson and just sit outside in the waiting area so she would not know that he was there. He was shocked and almost revolted by my teachers behavior and that was the last time I had a piano lesson. I had such a feeling of relief and almost felt as if I had broken off a piece of what was dragging me down. At the time I was not aware of the damage that prolonging my suffering would do to my psyche nor was I aware of the great amount of self awareness that I would be able to develop through further trials and struggles with women who had a similar pattern to her behaviors. This experience is not something that I feel bad about any longer because I can recognize that I would not have such a meaningful life today had I not had undergone such suffering. This experience as a child helped to craft the type of woman I would look for to be my wife and life partner which in its own right led me to other types of suffering and experiences that are still paying off today. It truly is amazing how things can come full circle if you maintain a good perspective and search for the happiness in all things.
More to come.
Thursday, February 5, 2015
2/5/15
This week at work I had an experience of which I am almost ashamed to say is not uncommon for me. The typical form of the experience I am talking of consists of myself being apprehended by an angry woman for something of which I am either completely unaware of or for something that I do not feel the force of the apprehension justifies. Every single one of the experiences of which I speak of could have been avoided if instead of assuming that I was in the wrong, the person would simply have asked a question to start.
The first memory I have of an incident of this type goes back to second grade during a spelling test. During the test the phonics teacher accused me of cheating and without allowing me to present my case, took my test and ripped it up exclaiming that I would receive a zero percent for a grade on that test. This experience is one that I think about more often then I care to admit and I feel has been a formative experience in my relationship with women as a whole. The word that the teacher was asking us to spell for the test was arithmetic. While teaching us how to spell the word the teacher presented us with our first ever encounter with what educators call mnemonics, a rat in the house might eat the ice cream, and encouraged us to try to think of more mnemonics for other spelling words and the like. This seemed like a very useful tool to me as a child because I was always very keen to pick up new skills for learning so as to spend less of my time studying and more time playing games and hanging out with friends. During the spelling test I was saying the phrase to myself while she was allowing us time to spell the word. She saw me mouthing the phrase to myself and assumed that I was communicating with another student though I had never done anything of the like before and gave her no real indication as to that being my intention. As a child I was frightened by her intensity and overwhelmed by the prospects of receiving my first ever failing grade on a test. This led to me freezing up and being unable to present the reality of what I was doing in order to save myself from the embarrassment and shame of what was happening to me. The day I got the grade back, it had the promised zero on it and during my entire bus ride home I cried and was terrified what my mother might think of her accused cheating son. Thankfully for myself, it was winter out and there was a snow bank in which I could dispose of my test. I never saw it again and felt guilty about it for years. The feeling of helplessness and injustice that I felt followed me throughout the remainder of my encounters with the teacher over the next 6 years. This set in my psyche a default stagnation whenever a woman confronted me aggressively about anything or whenever I saw in her eyes the intensity of this teacher. Over the years there have been several others that have filled the position and even in my adult life I struggle immensely in dealing with the typical angry woman accusing me of a wrong no matter its size or significance. My piano teacher, my sister during her high school years, several of the women I have dated, a roommate I had in college, and now as an adult, my coworker, all fit the same mold and serve the same function as I have previously outlined. I would like to say that I have been of sound enough mind to recognize my sisters growth and have forgiven her for any injustices that I may have though I realize that I myself am still working through the hostilities that I have felt through hers and other peoples unwarranted aggression.
More to come.
The first memory I have of an incident of this type goes back to second grade during a spelling test. During the test the phonics teacher accused me of cheating and without allowing me to present my case, took my test and ripped it up exclaiming that I would receive a zero percent for a grade on that test. This experience is one that I think about more often then I care to admit and I feel has been a formative experience in my relationship with women as a whole. The word that the teacher was asking us to spell for the test was arithmetic. While teaching us how to spell the word the teacher presented us with our first ever encounter with what educators call mnemonics, a rat in the house might eat the ice cream, and encouraged us to try to think of more mnemonics for other spelling words and the like. This seemed like a very useful tool to me as a child because I was always very keen to pick up new skills for learning so as to spend less of my time studying and more time playing games and hanging out with friends. During the spelling test I was saying the phrase to myself while she was allowing us time to spell the word. She saw me mouthing the phrase to myself and assumed that I was communicating with another student though I had never done anything of the like before and gave her no real indication as to that being my intention. As a child I was frightened by her intensity and overwhelmed by the prospects of receiving my first ever failing grade on a test. This led to me freezing up and being unable to present the reality of what I was doing in order to save myself from the embarrassment and shame of what was happening to me. The day I got the grade back, it had the promised zero on it and during my entire bus ride home I cried and was terrified what my mother might think of her accused cheating son. Thankfully for myself, it was winter out and there was a snow bank in which I could dispose of my test. I never saw it again and felt guilty about it for years. The feeling of helplessness and injustice that I felt followed me throughout the remainder of my encounters with the teacher over the next 6 years. This set in my psyche a default stagnation whenever a woman confronted me aggressively about anything or whenever I saw in her eyes the intensity of this teacher. Over the years there have been several others that have filled the position and even in my adult life I struggle immensely in dealing with the typical angry woman accusing me of a wrong no matter its size or significance. My piano teacher, my sister during her high school years, several of the women I have dated, a roommate I had in college, and now as an adult, my coworker, all fit the same mold and serve the same function as I have previously outlined. I would like to say that I have been of sound enough mind to recognize my sisters growth and have forgiven her for any injustices that I may have though I realize that I myself am still working through the hostilities that I have felt through hers and other peoples unwarranted aggression.
More to come.
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
2/3/15
Fear is a great motivator of people, it can move them to greatness or cripple them when they need be strong. I have always felt as though I lacked fear in the sense that I have seen most others display the emotion which had led me as a child to understand that I had no fears. This was a cleaver defense of the ego and a classic strategy that I have noticed of myself. It is true that I lack the very obvious phobias of others, which are more pathological types of fear, but the next premise I told myself was not true at all. Phobias are not the only type of fear and by cutting off that area of my emotion when I over intellectualize I cut off the potential to understand myself more thoroughly.
I have stumbled upon a very useful graphic through Reddit and will be using it as a guide for myself to know myself more clearly.
http://i.imgur.com/3X6858r.jpg
There were many times during my childhood where I was ridiculed and poked at by my peers as many people who were children can likely empathize with. The things I was typically picked on for were my height and athletic ability. The name given to me was Half Pint. Though now this seems almost comical, back when I was younger this name hurt and I was embarrassed by this disrespect. The feeling of disrespect is one that I know I do not deal with how I feel it should be. There are many times I feel disrespected in my adult life that are still sometimes ongoing. I often feel disrespect from coworkers due to my being a young employee with relatively little experience. This is not something that I want to have a reaction to because I know that there is nothing I can do but continue to work in order to get the experience I need to alleviate this tension. The reaction I often have when feeling disrespected at work is to deflect and become aggressively revengeful but limited to words. I often talk poorly of those I have felt disrespected by in an attempt to project the manifestation of my own feeling of alienation, due to my lack of experience, onto whom ever is the perpetrator of the disrespect. I have even gone so far as to verbalize a desire to "catch" someone in order to aid in their dismissal from the companies employment. This is a deplorable thought much less an actual thing to be said about another human being. This is the ultimate in projection of alienation that I have been able to decipher from my own actions in recent times. The feeling of rejection is a very sneaky emotion. It is one that presents itself immediately but not really very clearly all the time due to there being a variety of types of rejection. The fear of rejection that I have had in my life is due mostly to my past history of marijuana use and with my decision on what to study in college. I knew quite early on in my college career that I did not want to continue on the path of education I was set on, but at least partially because of my fear of rejection I maintained my direction and graduated with a degree in Clinical Laboratory Sciences. I feared being rejected by my immediate family and extended family. I feared that my parents would not agree with the decision and that they would think I was a waste, a loser, a drain, or an embarrassment on them. In my fear I could not proceed with my own dreams and desires. The what could have beens are worth nothing because I have let my fear conquer me in a period of time where my direction has become more crystallized. This is not to say that I am unhappy about other events that have taken place because of being crippled in this fashion, but simply that I feel as if I did not choose it completely of my own freedom from fears.
More to come.
I have stumbled upon a very useful graphic through Reddit and will be using it as a guide for myself to know myself more clearly.
http://i.imgur.com/3X6858r.jpg
There were many times during my childhood where I was ridiculed and poked at by my peers as many people who were children can likely empathize with. The things I was typically picked on for were my height and athletic ability. The name given to me was Half Pint. Though now this seems almost comical, back when I was younger this name hurt and I was embarrassed by this disrespect. The feeling of disrespect is one that I know I do not deal with how I feel it should be. There are many times I feel disrespected in my adult life that are still sometimes ongoing. I often feel disrespect from coworkers due to my being a young employee with relatively little experience. This is not something that I want to have a reaction to because I know that there is nothing I can do but continue to work in order to get the experience I need to alleviate this tension. The reaction I often have when feeling disrespected at work is to deflect and become aggressively revengeful but limited to words. I often talk poorly of those I have felt disrespected by in an attempt to project the manifestation of my own feeling of alienation, due to my lack of experience, onto whom ever is the perpetrator of the disrespect. I have even gone so far as to verbalize a desire to "catch" someone in order to aid in their dismissal from the companies employment. This is a deplorable thought much less an actual thing to be said about another human being. This is the ultimate in projection of alienation that I have been able to decipher from my own actions in recent times. The feeling of rejection is a very sneaky emotion. It is one that presents itself immediately but not really very clearly all the time due to there being a variety of types of rejection. The fear of rejection that I have had in my life is due mostly to my past history of marijuana use and with my decision on what to study in college. I knew quite early on in my college career that I did not want to continue on the path of education I was set on, but at least partially because of my fear of rejection I maintained my direction and graduated with a degree in Clinical Laboratory Sciences. I feared being rejected by my immediate family and extended family. I feared that my parents would not agree with the decision and that they would think I was a waste, a loser, a drain, or an embarrassment on them. In my fear I could not proceed with my own dreams and desires. The what could have beens are worth nothing because I have let my fear conquer me in a period of time where my direction has become more crystallized. This is not to say that I am unhappy about other events that have taken place because of being crippled in this fashion, but simply that I feel as if I did not choose it completely of my own freedom from fears.
More to come.
Monday, February 2, 2015
A bookcase.
Over the past few months my partner and I have been having a civilized yet non-productive discussion about whether or not to buy a third bookcase for our apartment and many, many books. Last night we sat down and the topic came up again over a delicious Longjing tea, which my brother bought for us while he was touring China, when I realized that I had failed to communicate exactly why I had felt the bookcase was not a good idea. I told her that I felt like the place would be much to crowded by furniture and that it would turn the room into a choking enclosure. She expressed to me that she felt bad that the books were homeless, as if they had a human quality to them, and in fact she felt as if they were as children to her because of how much joy she felt they gave to her over her life. After months and months of saying no I finally understood why she wanted it and began to cry. I cried because of her love for the books, for my instant change of position on the topic, for my realization of trust in her, that I have come to know love in a way I have never known possible, for the excitement that there is more to come of that feeling and growth. I cried because I was afraid to be that close to someone, for the feeling of vulnerability of my own self, and again because the realization of the trust I had in her to nurture my conquering of vulnerabilities towards openness. The feeling of knowing you are growing as a person and becoming comfortable with another person enough to allow your growth to be intertwined and inseparable has become the most incredible feeling to me. It is unlike anything I have known before and it is the most motivating thing I have ever felt. I feel as if I want to be the absolute best partner I can be for my wife, lover, friend, and life partner. I know that will mean a lot more growth and change, but I want to take it on optimistically and with full awareness of the potential of regression, but to allow the forgiveness to myself to again grow past that. I have been unimaginably fortunate to have met my wife and to have somehow stumbled through to marry her. I love her and I love myself and I love our relationship and that will be what my whole life will be about with conscious intentional growth constantly in mind. So after I took this inspiring detour of a thought, I told her that I want her to have any bookcase she wanted and that we will go and get it as soon as we are able to. I suspect there will be many more bookcases in our future and many more instances of pure love.
To make a Turn.
In the past I have used poetry as an emotional outlet for myself in order to maintain a sense of control over myself and the chaos that is the world. Poetry was a tool for understanding and processing through emotions that I did not and could not understand at the time.
Currently I feel I am at a very pivotal time in my own personal development and find that the idea of reaching back to a past tool, re-purposing it for the direct and intentional guiding of my own desired path towards who I want to be, to be a very appealing idea and one that can be done in place of other copping mechanisms that are becoming obsolete due to the nature of where I have landed in life through little to no conception of where I had even started. The writing of actual poetry may be a bit off in the future yet, but I want to use this safe place I have carved for myself to begin to foster my above intentions. The way I will begin to do this is to write in prose to help tease the brain and get emotions flowing in the direction that I have longed for them to flow.
Currently I feel I am at a very pivotal time in my own personal development and find that the idea of reaching back to a past tool, re-purposing it for the direct and intentional guiding of my own desired path towards who I want to be, to be a very appealing idea and one that can be done in place of other copping mechanisms that are becoming obsolete due to the nature of where I have landed in life through little to no conception of where I had even started. The writing of actual poetry may be a bit off in the future yet, but I want to use this safe place I have carved for myself to begin to foster my above intentions. The way I will begin to do this is to write in prose to help tease the brain and get emotions flowing in the direction that I have longed for them to flow.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
8/6/13
This weekend I proposed to Fione Lim by the starlight on my late Grandfather's lake. The milky way was visible making it one of the most romantic things I have ever experienced. The waters were calm and serene, the stars bright and numerous. I told her that I loved her and I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me. She started crying and said "Yes!" This is a big step for us to be taking, especially since we have not even spent an entire year together yet, but I know that this is what I want for my life and that I will be happy with her no matter where else life takes me as long as I have her. She has been such a loving, caring, supportive, and beautiful influence on my life since we have been together. She loves my family, as they love her, and she treats them as her own flesh and blood. In all my wildest dreams I could not even imagine how amazing she is and how our story would unfold. I never thought that I could find someone like her, and even further marry someone at her level of amazingness. Every day that passes is another day closer to the day I can truly say that I am hers and she is mine, and my excitement builds more and more. I know that some people might think that it has gone too fast, that we don't know each other well enough, or that we are foolish for doing this, but honestly I feel that this is what I am meant to do regardless of social conventions and expectations. I also know that there is something to what they are saying, but I have had the privilege and honor to be able to feel something so deep down inside, so life affirming, and so true that nothing else seems to matter that I can confidently and calmly let them know that it is just something they simply will not understand. Those uncertainties may be rightly placed on a couple who does not so thoroughly examine each and every aspect of necessity before acting. The connection that we share is unlike anything I have every experienced and continues to grow each day through the happy days and especially in the not so happy days. I love her so completely and utterly fantastically that it often baffles my own mind. She is truly for me and I for her. I love you Fione Lim, love of my life, spark of my enthusiasm, driving force of my will, mutual supporter of affirmation and affections, my dearest, my love.
Shane Wolff
Shane Wolff
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