The more times that I lose, the happier I am, and I think that is a lost art. The assurance that you go on even when all plans fail is a gift.
The more times that I lose, the happier I am, and I think that is a lost art. The assurance that you go on even when all plans fail is a gift.
I finally just finished a book that my mentor teacher gave me while I was student teaching. It took me about a year to finish it. It was a deeply philosophical and psychological novel that I enjoyed. Even though I enjoyed it, I avoided it for a while simply because it reminded me of teaching.
To make a long story short, the main character was a part of a psychological experiment gone wrong and his consciousness was going to shut off and he was going to die. But, he is told by the man who started this experiment, that he will live on in his subconscious.
And it sort of ends… open ended. You wonder if he even died. You wonder more about his lives, which seem to have ended so suddenly. And in a lot of ways, I suppose this is like real life. When things end, either seasons, or actual lives, they end with no red flags or “this is it” moments. Nothing is ever really concluded. So, I suppose it is one of the more realistic books I’ve ever read, even if it talks about mythical creatures and skulls that hold memories. (You had to be there…)
And since I got this book during student teaching, it is hard to not think about teaching as something that ended so abruptly. I still struggle to define what I hated so much about it. I was anxious, yet more energized than ever. The students infuriated me, but I would have taken a bullet for any of them. I called them my kids, even though they made me lose hope in humanity daily. My fellow teachers and principal encouraged me, but I also hid from them how much I struggled just to smile that entire year.
Teaching was like dying. It just ended and there were so many things left to do and there wasn’t going to be answers.
And that’s how this man’s life was. That’s what all of our lives are like.
And I think one could be really sad about this fact, that closure is a gift rarely given to us by life. But, at the same time, never having a day promised to you gives it a sense of urgency and worth.
For example, if you got to ride in a private jet for a day, you’d probably be ecstatic. But, if you owned a private jet, it could one day become common place to you and it’d just sit in a hanger untouched.
The fact that closure is almost never given—although a great source of sorrow– can also be a great source of value.
It’s like when you go to give away your old toys from childhood.
You haven’t played with them in a decade or more, but they all of a sudden become precious to you because that moment may be the last time you hold your favorite train or doll.
I once told a friend that what made humans so incredibly valuable is their infinite nature intertwined with their mortality. People are worth pouring into because they last—their souls go on forever. But, the time with them in the physical is short-lived and therefore, precious. I think that’s why people’s last words always seem to include wishing they had spent more time with certain people. People are invaluable in this way.
And the teacher inside me, like that man, died. And I still mourn for her. She didn’t make it and that really…. It just really sucks.
I mean, I don’t even know what else to say about it.
But, just like it says in the Lion King, we’ve got this Circle of Life thing going on and a new part of me has emerged and has a chance to live.
And I like her a lot more than the old me.
She has no idea what she is doing, but she knows who she is and that’s a lot better than knowing what you are doing and not knowing who you are.
I didn’t really get to say goodbye to my teacher self before she died.
But, she taught me something invaluable and in a lot of ways made me who I am now.
So, so-called “closure” and death and all that is always going to suck.
But, there is always something new coming up ahead.
The end of one thing isn’t the end of all things.
And some things, like you and me, only end in one way.
But, we live on through our thoughts, don’t we?
My husband recently got into this show where this guy continually dies over and over again.
How does that even happen?
What is my husband even watching?
Why did I watch all 23 episodes with him?
This guy keeps dying, but he wakes up the previous day and no one remembers what happened but him.
Which is great when he makes a mistake in a relationship or someone he love dies.
He can just start over and stop it from happening. But, no one sees any of this sacrifice. And all of the memories he has with people he loves are lost to all but him.
And it is extremely frustrating. He tries and tries so hard to show people he cares and wants to help- but it can all be erased in an instant.
And, I feel like so many things have been erased this year for a lot of us.
We see Brock Turner rape an unconscious woman and get out of county jail after three months, THEN, get on Twitter and blame her for his rough times.
We see two horrible United States presidency candidates take the stage- ready to ruin the country.
We see ISIS. We see bombs landing on Syrian children. We see hate crimes against African Americans, Women, Palestinians, and LGBTQAA leaders and youth.
We see student loans destroy credit, or kids give up going to school at all.
We start from zero every day–many of us.
And we did everything right.
We got good grades, we got a job, and we went to school.
And we are stuck working two jobs to pay for rent– let alone food, gas, insurance, student loans or tuition.
And it’s hard to keep hope when you work so hard to make it by and you see children die in Syria on Facebook and hear threats of nuclear war in Korea. When barely making it by is lucky in the world, it’s hard to see the bright side.
At one point, this man from the show asks someone in his life to run away with him to the mountains. He can’t bear to see the war in the land– to watch his friends die and to have them forget all they have been through when he dies and comes back that previous morning. He can’t take losing everything again and again.
And although I’m sure few of us could imagine losing those you love over and over again…
It still hurts to look at our world…
To watch humanity still get up every morning and go to war over things as idiotic as ethnicity or difference of religion.
To watch humanity live every single day the same as the last– with pain and suffering and hate.
But, I try to remember, that some people do sacrifice everything. Some people give knowing some may never know what they did- or even appreciate their kindness.
This guy’s friend he asked to run away with him tells him that he is not the type to give up– that giving up does not suit him. And she could not run away with him– because the friend she loves wouldn’t run away from a fight.
And so, as I tire everyday– seeing the horrors that exist because humanity exists.
I also try to remember that passion driven by love– the love that exists because humanity exists.
So, as 9/11 passes again.
I try not to remember the planes. I try not to remember the terror.
I try to remember the people who carried others out of the building.
I try to remember the way we all united. The way we all loved each other. The way in which we cried for strangers.
And, yes, tomorrow for the world at large will probably be the same.
But, I can try to make the people I come in contact with tomorrow a bit happier.
I can stand up and fight.
I can feel righteous anger that fuels me to love all people.
Righteous anger that presses me to be different than the world at large.
And I will never stop being angry- because the second I stop being angry is the second I stopped caring– about the world, about my family, about my friends.
So stay angry. Angry enough to change.
Angry enough to never lose hope.
Angry enough to start from zero.
So, I definitely recorded this weeks ago, and then never told you all.
Sorry. Drowning in wedding planning and work.
But, I have two blog ideas lodged away and coming your way.
Forgive me for the intensity.
A Zero Day is a day where you take zero steps towards accomplishing what you really want in life.
My fiancé sent me a link to a subreddit where a man describes how he never lets a day go by without doing one thing that makes him closer to what he wants. Even if it’s 11:59 he’ll do one push up or send one email or learn something that improves him.
I recently wrote a post about How to Make the Most of Everyday and it had a similar message. But, when my strawberry plant I cared for daily was brutally slain in the shrill cold of February, I lost some hope and became lazy again– which is so easy to do.
So, I got on Groupon.
That aggressively addictive drug called Groupon.
And I only bought one thing.
I know. I know. How did I do it?
I bought a five dollar course on Fashion and Lifestyle Blogging from Trendimi. I have used them before. It’s simple, easy to use, and all online. I have already finished module one of eleven.
I’m excited for no more zero days! Please encourage me and I’ll encourage you too!
So, what will you do to avoid more zero days? Comment below. 😉
Much love, TOH
I’ve never had many hobbies. And, I really didn’t have any hobbies until I took a creative writing class in college with a mind-blowingly inspirational professor. And I just couldn’t stop writing. I wrote on napkins, on gum wrappers, anything I could get my hands on for a while.
And, then life got busy and I was stressed and it sort of fell to the wayside.
And, when I thought about giving up my blog less than a month ago, it was heart wrenching. Giving up writing felt like giving up a part of myself–like losing a limb or having one lung instead of two.
I’ve “picked up” lots of hobbies from friends. And as these friends come and go, so do the hobbies. But, writing follows me. It haunts me like a ghost.
Here on WordPress, I am surrounded by people who understand how easily it can be to confuse writing with breathing. And, as I am no longer in my writing classes– finding friends who write out of necessity as I do is much harder.
Almost giving up this hobby- something that makes me who I am, really made me realize how big of a deal writing is to me.
How big of a deal you all are to me.
It makes me feel less alone to know that there are other people that like to think deeper about life and record their thoughts- for fun, for therapy, for survival.
What does writing mean to you? Tell me in the comments below! I want to get to know you. 🙂
Stay loving, Little Homes.
So, I have nothing to avenge. Well, maybe dreams.
But, everything sounds so much more intense when you come back just happening to have a great desire to avenge something.
So, I’ll avenge my dreams. I will avenge this blog!
I haven’t written in twenty-one days on Thoughtsofhomes because I tried to start over and I made another blog called Marriedtomrrobot because (surprise surprise) I am getting married!
Not to a robot, a real person.
Just making sure that is clear.
I just felt like I wasn’t sure where I was going with TOH and honestly, I had to get to a point where I almost got rid of it to realize how I will always have more to write for Thoughtsofhomes because we are always changing and trying to figure out what our purpose is and where we belong.
So, I have decided to marry the two blogs.
heh.heh… see what I did there? 😉
I know. I’m the worst.
But, for real. I’m coming back with a vengeance.
Big shout out to a newer WordPresser, INFJash , whom inspired me to get back into writing more for TOH.
Go check her blog out. 😉 Seriously.
Things are going to be good.
Much love, Little Homes.
I planned about 6 months ago to do a monthly blog about a “WordPresser” I follow so as to get closer to my fellow bloggers and feel more at home in the blogging atmosphere.
It was like a plan to give a virtual hug to the bloggers I couldn’t actually meet face to face.
But, it buffered maybe a bit too long.
New jobs came, an engagement, seasons, holidays, and here I am finally sitting down to do this.
And wow, does Path to the Inner Goddess have things to teach me.
This post will help you to understand: the soul behind this blog– Path to the Inner Goddess, what her motivations for her blog are, what kind of readers would be interested in her blog, and what blogs she has written mean the most to her.
When I first clicked on a link to The Path to the Inner Goddess, I was welcomed with beautiful photos of candles, delicious looking photos from her recently acquired vegetarian diet…
and a beautiful photo of the author, Diana Mina.
She describes herself as “a mother of two, writer, massage therapist and aspiring spiritual counselor”.
Many moons ago, I sent her some questions about her blog and she answered them all beautifully. All text below, other than the bold numbered questions, is from Diana.
“He has such a bright spirit… He has actually taught me the lesson of slowing down sometimes and just enjoying life for what it is. He is always in the moment. With everything that comes with our journey, I am so thankful and grateful for having both my sons as mine in this lifetime. He is here for a wonderful purpose and I am happy that he was born to be so much, including to play the role of my son.”–Path to the Inner Goddess
“Building your esteem on more meaningful things is what makes you still feel awesome and proud even if you’re on house-mom mode, in your pajamas, with your hair looking like the snakes on Medusa’s head… It’s surprising how little you will care for the physical because your sense of self has been built on something greater and permanent. Everyone has something meaningful to contribute to this world.”
–Path to the Inner Goddess
All in all, my interview with Diana was eye opening. Through her strength in adversity, her willingness to change and grow, and her courage to reach out to a blogger she has never met, I have learned to accept my own journey and the journey of others. We are all in this together.
If you’d like your blog to be featured, I do not charge– I simply want to know your blog better as well as share. 🙂 I cannot promise speed, but hopefully, I can promise a long-distance friendship.
Much love, little homes.
I was putting on my make up the other day and I thought to myself about how little make up I put on now as opposed to in high school.
Now, I didn’t wear a ton of make up because I had blotchy skin or because I was embarrassed of how I looked without it.
This isn’t one of those ” I don’t need make up to feel pretty” posts.
I wore make up because I was always blushing.
I did just about anything to hide it.
I gained the nickname strawberry in high school because I was red in the face…. all the time.
I was continuously wondering what people were thinking of me. I was excessively critical of myself. And, due to my self-criticism, I was totally embarrassed to be me.
Now, I don’t feel that way anymore and I think it’s because I’ve gone through difficult experiences and decided to learn about myself and my values through those experiences. I’m more confident in my decisions and my personality because I am the way I am and do what I do for a reason.
My face quality hasn’t really improved all that much– I still break out and get red in the face sometimes. But, definitely not as often.
Because being myself isn’t something to be stressed out or embarrassed about.
Have you stopped blushing yet?
Much love, Thoughtsofhomes
Ein Tagebuch unserer Alltagsküche-Leicht nachkochbar
(Somewhat) Daily News from the World of Literary Nonfiction
A Good Blog is Hard to Find
I call this practice
a blog for posterity.
Where Random Comes To Give Birth
Come learn how a person with the rarest MBTI type thinks!
Tigers not daughters
the literary asylum
"The truth is like poetry, and most people hate poetry."
Domenic Garisto/havau22.com / IF YOU CAN'T BE THE POET, BE THE POEM (David Carradine) LIFE IS NOT A REHERSAL,SO LIVE IT.
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
Thoughts of where we belong in this life