I woke up in a cynical mood today, though I fought it tooth and nail. I watched a decent movie, emailed a friend, heard a good song...But it wouldn't go away. So, I write this.

Cynicism isn't pretty. It looks a little like, well, Uncle Sam, to be honest (minus the red, white & blue top hat)...that scowl on his face, finger pointing at YOU. But it has its place, I suppose. I appreciate good sarcasm, after all, and most cynics are excellent in this capacity...Why?...well, because of the suspicions, you silly! If you can come back from a trip to Cynic City with a better understanding of how things work, you are at least a bit wiser than before, I guess.

Ok. That said...I was disillusioned by the realization that everyone has an agenda. That word doesn't necessarily have to be associated with negativity and pessimism. Business people have very important daily agendas. College students have agendas they hope will pay for all their student loans. Even our country has an agenda that I haven't fully come to terms with...and, here, it is about to "change". That stuff is necessary. Like a personal checklist to make sure you stay on track.

No...What I am referring to is the "agenda" your friend said his gold-digging wife had...or the "agenda" that cute guy in Lit class had when he woo'd you with quotes from Emily Bronte (your favorite writer) just to put another notch on his bedpost...or the "agenda" a "friend" had when they snuggled up to your money. "Ohhhh," you say, "That agenda!" Yep, that's what I'm talking about. What steps can I take to get from Point A to Point B regardless of who or what has to be stepped on to get there? I mean, because it is all about me, isn't it? (Hey, I think someone recently told me it was "all about you"! I thought that meant they wanted to talk about anything and everything Christy had on her peabrain; but MAYBE there was a sarcastic tone I didn't pick up on since we weren't face to face?! Hhmmm....)

Why can't we just be, and not have an agenda? Seriously. Why is it about what you can do for me and what I can get from you? Is it that Tears For Fears was onto something with their famous little diddy, and we all just want to rule the world? I mean, maybe getting what we want from someone (especially if they are none-the-wiser) feels a little like we're in charge, doesn't it? I know my agenda involves finding people who don't have agendas so I never get hurt or taken advantage of or mad. That is selfish, isn't it? I swear I should've finished college and gotten my degree in Psychology so I would know the answer to this. I am positive it has something to do with our 'superego' in some way. I'll have to look that up....

And I wonder if it is just "us"? Does everyone have "an agenda"? Or is it mostly Americans because we live in a "me" kind of world? Instant gratification is a religion here. But do villagers in the deepest, darkest corners of our globe have their own selfish agendas? Really, you can't fault them, I wouldn't think, if they lay awake at night on their dirt floors "scheming" up ways to survive another day, by hook or by crook. I just don't think this is the same. So is it just us? And I wonder, on our deathbeds, if we will look back at our agendas with a sense of accomplishment and get a warm, fuzzy feeling that could be confused for joy?

Ok...I feel better to have gotten my thoughts down. That at least means they don't sit there just building until they make a nice explosion, as powerful as Disney's fireworks show but not nearly as pretty.

I can be perky again.....and, after all, I was just sayin'.

The sun is out again. Makes me wish it were spring. I long for it.

Don't you just love when spring gets here? Everything starts coming to life. The colors are beautiful. The sun is friendlier. All those little creatures show up like a scene from Disney's Bambi. Awww.... The best part, though, is stepping out and doing the simplest, yet most vital part to your existence...taking fresh air into your lungs and filling those babies full of what they crave the most.

I've discovered people can be a bit like that. A breath of fresh air. *Of course, some folks can be a bit more like these freakin' skunks we see, or smell, lying dead on the highway right now...What is up with that anyway? Do they mate in winter???

Anyway...These people just seem to show up out of nowhere, just when you need and least expect them. And I think they feel just as good to your soul when you take them in as that spring air does. You're going through life...everything's good enough because, well, we do need all four seasons even though some feel better than others...and then a cracked door blows open and there's your breeze. Feels good. Gives you warm fuzzies. Reminds you of the last time you felt that exact way...last spring. That person makes you laugh...at the very least, smile. Or they bring a new light to old things. Or they wake you up and make you think. In whatever respect, they are encouraging to your spirit. And the cool thing is that they just do it...with ease...like that's their only job. And they're totally okay with their job description!

Of course, sometimes, they're gone like the wind too...as quick as they came. Maybe it was just the girl who fixed your caramel apple cider (I don't do coffee, thank you) at Starbucks. But sometimes, if you're lucky, they stick around like the breeze here at our house up on this hill. There seems to nearly always be at least a slight breeze. Those are the ones you hope to hang on to. They make you catch your breath, and you would want to hold it forever if not for the fear that you would pass out and hit your head on the porch step. Not pretty.

I am so glad God sees fit to bring spring "on" the way He does (I am anxious for it as I type this!). And I am also grateful that He sees fit to send us people who make us want to "open our windows" and fill up our lives with their existence. :)

I'm just sayin'...with a smile! ;-)

"Restlessness is discontent and discontent is the first necessity of progress. Show me a thoroughly satisfied man and I will show you a failure." ~Thomas Edison, inventor

Why do our spirits get restless? They do, don't they? How can our spirits even get fidgety when we're so busy anyway? Seems ironic for something SO busy to have time to sit and fidget. But it happens.

It actually sneaks up on you...this restlessness, I think. It doesn't usually come in the form of a creepy old maid riding her bicycle (or was it a broom?) looking for sweet little girls and cuddly little dogs to terrorize...making you long for bliss somewhere on the other side of a prism in the sky. Hhhhmmmm....Maybe Dorothy and Toto weren't the best examples because it appeared she was running away out of fear and not "restlessness", and Miss Gulch was very ugly and full of threats; BUT Dorothy did figure out in the end that she really didn't need to journey along the 'path to Oz' to find the happiness in her "own backyard". (Wow! What a long, run-on sentence!) No, it comes in many forms. Non-threatening. Fun. Simple. Always nice to look at.

So, why then?

Maybe there is a little fear involved though, like poor ol' Dot felt? Maybe it's a fear of settling down? A fear of missing out? A fear of having made the wrong decisions? A fear of growing up? A fear of losing "what ya got"? A fear of missing an opportunity?
Does it mean you're weak? Does it mean you're immature? Selfish? Stupid? On a path to destruction? Bad?

Is the reason for the restlessness what's important? Is it what you find on the other end of it? Or is it the journey in between? The journey through it?

You tell me.........

(An old post I pulled out of a dusty folder)

Do you remember what it was like when you found out that Superman wasn't real? Or maybe when you witnessed a media frenzy revolving around someone you idolized that left you with the realization that the person was just shy of being a chump? Or maybe when you were able to spend some time with someone you thought had it all figured out only to find out they were more screwed up on the inside than you are? They weren't people that you purposely put on a pedestal. You never set out to think of them as higher forms of yourself or any other person in your life. But somehow your insecurities and fears and inadequacies placed them mountains above the rest.

I woke up this morning with deep feelings that I believe are in some ways similar to those situations...just a smidge anyway. It wasn't a "lightbulb" moment. It wasn't like I was struck by lightning. The realities, instead, have been seeping into my consciousness very gradually. There have been little circumstances and moments when I catch glimpses of just how human someone I love is.

But, this morning, when I popped in my Beatles "1" cd (all their #1 hits, for those who don't know), I just felt overwhelmed with realization. The songs always strike a sentimental nerve in me...they always take me right back to my childhood...always. No matter how grown-up I feel. And the only memories I completely associate their music with are those involving my parents.

So...I'm vacuuming and remembering the 70s, a bit of the 80s even. My memories of my childhood are all happy...even though they aren't all happy. Does that make sense? I remember (even more than my sibs) the turmoil in our family, between our parents and then between them and their parents. I remember a LOT...things they probably hope I don't (shoot, things they may not remember). I remember anger and chaos for sure; but for some reason, the good stuff gets more "air time" in my mind. Maybe it is my mind's defense mechanism kicking in? I don't know. But I remember so many good things right smack dab in the middle of my parents' personal hell(s). And most of all, I remember thinking that my parents were it...they were the best...they were smart...they were almost superhuman. Dad survived a horrible war and a very, very sad childhood, mostly intact; while Mom left home as a 16 year old baby, sent her husband off to war, had me, raised us and then even survived cancer.

I've spent so much of my adulthood calling them for advice, thinking they have it all figured out. I have cried a gazillion tears wishing that my family and I lived closer to them. I've gauged so much of my attitude toward life, my potential success in being a smart human, on what I perceived them to be and do. I've placed so much pressure on myself to live up to who I perceived them to be. I knew, of course, they weren't perfect (no one is), but I subconsciously placed them above myself and others in the area of near-perfectness. And then today, for some reason...I felt this incredibly sad resolve that brought tears. They aren't superhuman...they aren't above everyone...they don't have it all figured out. And while that is a no-brainer for most adults (especially those whose parents were deadbeats even as they raised their kids) perhaps, it just made the world look different to me today than it did yesterday.

Why is that a sad revelation for a 39-year-old woman (when maybe I should look at it as a good revelation instead)? It is hard realizing that someone you turned to for so much guidance could be wrong or could even be more screwed up sometimes than you are. It just turns the tables. It means that, while they are older and even wiser in some situations, I am the one calling the shots now. The responsibility for making wise choices is all on me, truly. It just sort of shifts the pressure, I guess.

Anyway.

Wow. I'm not saying they are these pathetic people who let me down or messed me up...No...they are just humans doing exactly what I am doing...trying to muddle through and figure it out as they go. That's what I'm sayin'....