Tuesday, 28 August 2012

torpidity: apathetic, sluggish, or lethargic; unable to move or feel

After just over seven months of nights filled with broken sleep, days filled with endless activity, and little rest between the two, I am feeling extremely torpid.  When one is lost in a mode of sluggishness with no option to relax, where is one supposed to pull their liveliness from?  There must be some sort of untapped stores of energy within us that we can call upon when there is nothing left, when we are running on fumes. 

I'm sure we've all been there.... when we've been up all night, haven't slept for days, been working non-stop, and we feel like there is no possible way we will be able to carry on about our day, let alone even move our legs those few extra steps so we can plunk down on that nice squishy chesterfield.  But somehow, from somewhere within us, we find a boost in our verve.  And for a few moments we feel like we have enough stamina to not only make it through the next few minutes, but to carry on into the evening and forget about our little rest on the couch completely.  So where does this indefatigability come from?  I'm sure if I really delve into the scientific answer I will find something about dopamine and serotonin levels, but nonetheless it amazes me that the body is capable of pushing itself to such limits.  Why?  It isn't necessary for survival, it's purely based on one's personal will.

However, despite my desire to enthusiastically go about my day, it is with great torpidity that I pull my tired butt out of bed and begin my morning routine.  Sometimes it seems that no matter how many different ways I try to snap myself out of this zombie-like trance, I just can't seem to shake the lethargy that consumes me.  I am waiting for that oomph to hit me, throw some added zeal into my day and make me forget my exhaustion altogether.  But the more I focus on finding that extra bounce that I can stitch into my step, the more elusive it becomes.  Then, just when I feel like I'm going to break down into tears from the pure lassitude that devours me, when I am no longer looking for what it was I've been searching for, I suddenly find myself with the vivacity to go on about my day.  Ironically, it just takes getting my mind off of that which I seek in order to find it. 

Tuesday, 21 August 2012

inept: awkward, clumsy, or incompetent

No matter what it is, when we are at the beginning of something new, there is a certain amount of ineptitude that arises within us as we move forward towards mastering our new hobby, craft, or skill.

But is it fair to consider ourselves inept at something we don't claim to be an expert at?  I think that a certain amount of awkwardness is expected from almost any novice in any field.  But for how long are we considered a newbie?  For as long as we label ourselves as such?  If this were so, then there would be no reason to feel inept, to feel as if we don't measure up, for we could forever linger in the learning phase.

Considering oneself as a beginner for an extended period of time could really work to one's advantage.  We are more willing to allow ourselves to make foolish mistakes, and we are also more willing to learn from those bumbling blunders.  We are more open to the advice and suggestions from others whom we consider have mastered whatever it is we are trying to get a firm grasp on.  And most importantly, as a plebe just dipping our toes into the water running off the fountain of success, we are all the more ready and willing to prove ourselves capable, and therefore have a heightened sense of fiery motivation urging us onward.

I would rather look at myself as a rookie forever and always and accept that I am going to feel inept from time to time, than believe I have reached a state of perfection in which there is no room left for me to learn or grow or improve.  But, perhaps I can get rid of any and all feelings of ineptitude if I look at the whole situation through the eyes of someone who genuinely wants to advance, someone who is striving for a state close to perfection believing that true perfection will never be possible, someone who feels no guilt in making mistakes because they are expected of me.......an amateur.  I am an amateur and I claim my title proudly, opening up myself to the freedom of oopsies, uh-ohs, I didn't mean to's and a whole lot of 'it's okay she's just a newbie'.

Wednesday, 15 August 2012

What If? Blogfest

I stumbled upon this fun contest and decided I'd give it a go.

You pick a fairytale (I picked Cinderella), and here's the fun part..... you ask yourself  'What If?'

Then pick one of the following categories:
-Best Plot Twist
-Best Love Story (I'm a sucker for romance, so yep this was my choice)
-Best Tragedy
-Best Comic Relief

Then you write a scene(s) illustrating a new detail of the fabled fairytale that changes
our perspective. 300 words max.

Here goes:

A Secret To Share

After the jubilation of festivities surrounding their wedding day, Cinderella sat down with her new husband.

Expecting to hear words of love and excitement over their freshly stated vows, Cinderella became nervous when the Prince said he had a secret to share.

With glistening eyes and a lump in his throat, Prince Charming slowly began:

“Cinderella darling, now that we’re married there’s something I must tell you. Please don’t look too much into it, for it was nothing more than a one night stand, but since I would like to start our union off on the right foot, I really must tell you …..’

His palms were sweaty and his voice was a bit shaky. He grabbed Cinderella’s hands, looked deeply into her eyes, and finally spilled out the words he’d been trying to cough up.

“I slept with your sister.”

He’d uttered the whole sentence almost in one breath, and as he sat waiting patiently for his sweethearts’ response, he took a moment to calm his breathing.

After several minutes filled with anticipation and an emotion close to dread, Cinderella finally spoke.

“Well sweetie, I forgive you. Whatever happened before me isn’t something I can control. But I believe that a marriage should be based on trust, therefore, I also have something to share.

Now it was Charming’s turn to distress. What kind of secret could this beautiful, innocent creature possibly be holding?

Cinderella quickly blurted out what she’d been so longing to tell him.

“I was born a man.” she said, leaving poor Prince Charming flabbergasted and in a state of pure confusion. Would he be able to come to terms with the fact that his trophy wife was really at one point, male? It was going to take quite an explanation for them to overcome this newest revelation.

Tuesday, 14 August 2012

inamorato:a man who loves or is loved; male sweetheart or lover.

Soul mate, kindred soul, heart's desire....... I'm sure at some point in our lives, we have all wished for, longed for, hoped for that one true love, that knight in shining armour that is going to come in and sweep us off our feet, our other half that will complete us and lead our lives to fulfilment, to the point where we have nothing else we could possibly want for. 

But what about a sweetheart, a honey, an inamorato?  We seem to have fewer expectations when it comes to them.  They are the ones who will be there to cuddle with us on a rainy day, console us when we get into a fight with our best friend, canoodle us when we are longing for passion.  But what else does their job entail and how are they any different from the above mentioned?

Soul mate or inamorato?  Are these two things one and the same?

I have to admit that I don't know if I've ever experienced that can't-live-without-you kind of love.  However, I most certainly have experienced that can't-quite-seem-to-let-go-of-you kind of love.  Therefore, it is tough for me to truly understand what real love is.  Does it include ridiculous fights that start over minuscule matters and escalate to the point of calling in police officers to mediate the situation?  Or constantly picking up shirts, socks, shorts, and a number of other miscellaneous items that are laying all over the house, waiting for you to hunt them down.  Is part of being in love selfish?  Or does real love mean that no matter what is going on, you will go out of your way to help out your partner, even if that means stepping away from the baseball, basketball, or hockey game?  Maybe love is different for all couples and it simply includes what one is willing to put up with.  This certainly takes the glamour out of the vision I hold when I hear the words 'soul mate'.

When I think about love, I imagine it as being a state in which you accept someone unconditionally.  (But I wonder if this is really possible when egos and expectations are involved.)  I would also think that two people who are in love would spend the majority of their time wrapped up in each other's happiness, passion, and tenderness.  What little disagreements they do have must surely be solved quickly and easily without yelling.  Little moments or subtleties are cherished even more than verbose, over-the-top displays of affection, because with real love there is a deeper understanding that goes far beyond words. 

Appreciation, acceptance, respect, even humility are all parts that make up real love.  But these are things that can be found just as easily in almost any positive relationship.  Therefore, no matter how much I want love to be able to take my breath away, give me goosebumps, swell my heart, and make me feel complete, I can't help but wonder if such a thing as one's soul mate even exists.  Is there really only one person out there who can offer me everything I want in love?  Or is there even one at all?  And as I sit here staring at my computer screen, eating my watermelon, I am questioning if I have found my one true love, or just another inamorato.

Thursday, 9 August 2012

quiescent:being at rest; quiet; still; inactive or motionless

I definitely wish my life held just a few more quiescent moments. 

As I run around all day, chasing after my two darling, yet forever mischievous daughters I try to escape to a quiescent corner of my mind, hoping for a moment to breathe.  However, I am greeted by a thousand little thoughts stirring and buzzing about.  Yes, I know that I still have to decide what's for dinner.  And yes, I am worried that the cat's been out all night and still hasn't come back.  And yes, I am already thinking about all the things I have to do tomorrow.  But can't I have just one tiny moment of silence.  One simple second of peace. 

Admittedly, I can feel my frustration escalating.  The harder I search, the more that little wink of serenity that I am so longing for, alludes me.  If only it were as simple as removing myself to another room, but those darling little monsters will soon follow.  And if they don't follow, than I know I will just have thoughts of 'what are those crazy bugs, full of curiosity getting into now' to add to my already too-full mind. 

Just when I am on the brink of disaster, ready to explode, after hours of trying, those two little monsters have finally gone to sleep.  If only I could just sit down and enjoy a cup of tea while I relax and stare at the wall.  That's right, no TV, no music.  I really do just want one quiescent moment.  If only!  But suddenly, despite the fact that he's had all day to discuss with me whatever is on his mind, 'Darling Dearest' becomes Chatty Cathy.  Oh, how I wish there were a mute button.  I'm only half listening to what he has to say, and still wishing for my moment of quiescence.

Finally, whether it's due to the late hour, or that last bottle of beer running empty, Chatty Cathy retires for the night.  Although, it has taken all day and it is nearing midnight, I finally have my moment.  The room is not completely silent.  I can hear the slow mumble of the baby swing moving back and forth.  The fan is still whirring to its own tune.  Even the apartment itself is making a few noises, quirks and spurts are coming from the fridge, the walls, the floors.  But in this moment I am mostly motionless.  I am at rest.  I am quiescent.

Saturday, 4 August 2012

poignancy:a state of deeply felt distress or sorrow; "a moment of extraordinary poignancy"

As I sit and ponder what is surely going to be one of the greatest losses in my life thus far, I can feel an immense and intense poignancy taking me over.  As this feeling washes over me, I can feel the tears starting to well up in my eyes.  This leads me to my next thought.....Why is it that our emotions are connected to our tear ducts? 

Returning my attention to thoughts of my upcoming heartache, I can actually feel a tightening in my chest.  My heart is actually aching.  So now I'm thinking: not only is emotion linked to the tear ducts, but it is also linked to that oval-shaped, life-sustaining organ that beats within my chest.  When I feel sadness, it feels pain.

Lost in my own 'moment of extraordinary poignancy', I know that if I allow myself, I will fall into the abyss of a depression so deep, I may never be able to find my way out.  So I fight back those tears that are trying so hard to force their way through the barrier of my eyes and pour down my cheeks.  And I take a few deep breaths, hoping to fight off the pain that has found its way to my heart, where it gently caresses my precious organ deceivingly, holding it prisoner.  But, despite all my efforts, I know that eventually the pain and the sadness will win.  Leading me to my next question.....For how long will my poignant feelings take me over.

Wednesday, 1 August 2012

pettifog: to bicker or quibble over trifles or unimportant matters.

How many of us have walked away from a disagreement thinking "was it really all that worth it?"  Aren't all arguments pettifogs then??  If we look at the definition, we see that a 'pettifog' is over unimportant matters..... Well, in the end of a disagreement, once we have calmed down and looked back on it all, we realize that it probably was a trifling matter we were disagreeing over in the first place.  We bicker about whose turn it was to feed the cat or walk the dog, whose job is harder; the homemaker or the breadwinner, which one of us gets to decide what to watch on TV tonight, where your partners eyes really were wandering.  The possibilities, and the quibbles are endless. 

But for a minute, just for the sake of comparison, let's take a look at the 'larger' matters people feel the need to get their back up about.  Is your partner drinking too much really that big a deal?  Yeah, maybe it is.  Especially if he's in his 30's, has two kids, and gets so drunk, he pukes all over himself.  Is your sister's disrespectful behaviour towards your grandmother really all that bad?  Yeah, maybe it is.  Especially if your grandmother is the sweetest woman in the world (which, I am sure most of us believe our grandmothers are), loves you unconditionally, and wants nothing more than to be a part of your life.  And what about when your mother sent back all the pictures she had of you, right from a baby up until now, along with anything and everything you've ever given her, including all pictures of the newest love of you life- your daughter.  Was that really so disgusting and heart wrenching that it would warrant you never speaking to her again?  Okay, maybe that one can be the exception.  But for the most part, all those other things don't really matter in the end.  All those other things become pettifogs when you start to look at the big picture. 

Life is a short and precious thing.  We don't know how much time we've been given.  Some of us have been granted way less than others, some way more.  But the amount of time we have, isn't what matters.  What we do with the time we have, does.  So for the sake of spending each precious moment thinking about, and being a part of what really matters, and what is really important to us, let us believe that all disagreements are trifling matters and therefore in essence....... pettifogs!