Sunday, on my way out the door, Bear said something that stuck with me. We were talking about my weekend (I went out and drank way too much) and I was beating myself up over it, as I'm want to do lately. Bear listened to me and came back with the fact that "people are all works in progress." It reminded me of something that I heard during my short stint at AA (my father was an alcoholic during my childhood) about how life is ever changing and it's in everyone's best interests to roll with it and let it take you where it will.
Honestly, I'm horrible about that. I have phases where I seem to take things in stride, but generally I worry and fret and have a hard time adjusting to life changes. I think it's time to let go of that. I always tease Bear about being "zen," but I really admire that about him. He's able to relax and let life happen, to adjust accordingly and grow with the lessons life is trying to teach him. Hell, he's been on bedrest for 3 months and it's very rare that he gets depressed. "It is what it is," he always says, and that's so true. I can't really change things, so I need to just "be." I should really put all this yoga to good use anyway.
This song was featured on the Wedding Crashers soundtrack, but is from one of my favorite bands and probably in my top 5 songs of all time... I leave you with the lyrics.
"Measure me in metered lines, in one decisive stare,
the time it takes to get from here to there.
My ribs that show through t-shirts and these shoes I got for free;
I'm unconsoled, I'm lonely.
I am so much better than I used to be.
Terrified of telephones and shopping malls and knives,
And drowning in the pool of other lives.
Rely a bit too heavily on alcohol and irony.
Get clobbered on by courtesy, in love with love and lousy poetry.
And I'm leaning on this broken fence between past and present tense.
And I'm losing all those stupid games that I swore I'd never play.
But it almost feels okay.
Circumnavigate this body of wonder and uncertainty.
Armed with every precious failure and amateur cartography.
I breathe in deep before I spread those maps out on my bedroom floor.
And I'm leaning on this broken fence between past and present tense.
And I'm losing all those stupid games that I swore I'd never play.
But it feels okay.
And I'm leaving. Wave goodbye.
And I'm losing, but I'll try, with the last ways left, to remember.
Sing my imperfect offering."
Honestly, I'm horrible about that. I have phases where I seem to take things in stride, but generally I worry and fret and have a hard time adjusting to life changes. I think it's time to let go of that. I always tease Bear about being "zen," but I really admire that about him. He's able to relax and let life happen, to adjust accordingly and grow with the lessons life is trying to teach him. Hell, he's been on bedrest for 3 months and it's very rare that he gets depressed. "It is what it is," he always says, and that's so true. I can't really change things, so I need to just "be." I should really put all this yoga to good use anyway.
This song was featured on the Wedding Crashers soundtrack, but is from one of my favorite bands and probably in my top 5 songs of all time... I leave you with the lyrics.
"Measure me in metered lines, in one decisive stare,
the time it takes to get from here to there.
My ribs that show through t-shirts and these shoes I got for free;
I'm unconsoled, I'm lonely.
I am so much better than I used to be.
Terrified of telephones and shopping malls and knives,
And drowning in the pool of other lives.
Rely a bit too heavily on alcohol and irony.
Get clobbered on by courtesy, in love with love and lousy poetry.
And I'm leaning on this broken fence between past and present tense.
And I'm losing all those stupid games that I swore I'd never play.
But it almost feels okay.
Circumnavigate this body of wonder and uncertainty.
Armed with every precious failure and amateur cartography.
I breathe in deep before I spread those maps out on my bedroom floor.
And I'm leaning on this broken fence between past and present tense.
And I'm losing all those stupid games that I swore I'd never play.
But it feels okay.
And I'm leaving. Wave goodbye.
And I'm losing, but I'll try, with the last ways left, to remember.
Sing my imperfect offering."
This entry was posted by Mellie, on
Monday, July 17, 2006.
