"Laughter is an instant vacation." ~Milton Berle
I love to laugh. I love that my life is full of moments that make my heart sing and that laughter comes easily. I love that when I replay conversations in my mind, I hear laughter.
I love hearing others laugh. The only thing that I truly remember about 'Shrek 2', is my brother's laughter as he sat a few seats away. I can still see, hear and feel my adult children's laughter as my mom has shocked us with some of her revelations.
I think back on most of the moments that linger in my mind. Most of them are interlaced with laughter.
My sisters and I have made the five hour trek to see or meet up with our mom on several occasions. It never seems to fail, we arrive at our destination laughing. I can recall one of the (many) times that my sisters came to me when I was in a time of crisis. And we laughed. One sister commented that it seemed wrong to be laughing ... but if we weren't laughing, we would have been crying. We chose laughter.
Laughter among tears. Deep and thought provoking conversations with friends have been full of moments like that.
In the soundtrack of my life, I hear laughter. Good things are better when they are enhanced with laughter.
I am blessed to have a nephew who is a professional comedian. He tours Canada and the U.S. ... he has starred in two movies ... he's a local celebrity ... and he's related to me. We went to see him perform last night and it was perfection.
It's one thing to humor someone you know well, but my nephew has taken that fine art and honed it so that 'the world' can laugh right along with him.
It's a mighty fine feeling to know that I have comedic genes in my blood.
"Laughter is much more important than applause. Applause is almost a duty. Laughter is a reward." ~ Carol Channing
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Raising Brother
I have been pretty much on my own, as far as raising my children goes. But, in spacing my children an average of 10 years apart, we have come to an interesting phase in our lives as my three sons are now 12, 22 and (nearing) 32. I am now getting parenting advise from my two adult sons.
I think if the spacing of my boys had them ages 12, 14 and 16 right now, there would be a lot of 'teaching' going on (i.e. relentless torture?) as my oldest two tried to toughen up their younger brother.
"He should learn to stand up for himself"; "He should learn to be more outgoing"; "He should learn to speak for himself". Yup. I'm pretty sure that if his brothers were closer in age, they would be using their own tactics to teach their baby brother these life skills.
I tend to defend my parenting choices, but the reality is that I do digest what each of my Older Sons is telling me.
In my defense, I've done my best. My best wasn't always good enough, but I kept (keep) trying.
I was very strict with my oldest. I was determined not to fall into some of the parenting mistakes that I had witnessed. He was going to be accountable for his actions. We learned some very hard lessons together. I (being the adult) had different coping mechanisms. I talked. I confessed my 'sins of parenting' to my friends and family. They forgave me. My son? He kept it all inside. We've talked about it now. I think he's forgiven me. But the 20 years that he held onto the hurt and anger? That doesn't just vanish.
"Oldest Child Syndrome" - Oldest children are also known for being perfectionists. Because oldest children are held up to such high standards by their parents, they can often feel as though they are expected to be perfect at all times. Of course, this is an unreasonable expectation for any child and could lead to bigger problems later on in life.
Nine years later, My Oldest became a Big Brother. Add three years to that, and you have a 12 year old boy as well as a 3 year old. These are trying ages. The preteens were not fun years for My Oldest and I. I can still vividly remember the challenges of taking my (then) three year old child in public. He defined the phrase 'Temper Tantrums'. I think he read up on it and perfected the art.
So ... I learned to pick my battles. I didn't have the energy to fight over the small stuff. So I let some things slide. Trying to keep a rein on both of my children at the time was a challenge. I had visions of my little family becoming another statistic of "Single Parenthood'' facts and figures. Those years did not define the Best Years of Parenting for me.
"Middle Child Syndrome" - Parents tend to be much more easy-going, less anxious, and less demanding with second and third children. Thus many middle children grow up with a more relaxed attitude towards life ... The middle child usually has to fight harder for the attention of their parents and therefore crave the family spotlight ..."
Eleven years after that ... The Youngest Brother was born.
Our family dynamics were a little bit of a mess at that time. There has been a lot of healing going on during the 12 years of My Youngest's life. I believe that he has truly benefited from the growth of our family during his lifetime. For the most part, the memories he has of his Big Brothers are of them being adults. I feel that his Older Brothers are his role models. His Brothers are good men. He will grow up to be a good man. His Brothers treat me with respect. He treats me with respect. I have a lot of faith that no matter what the teen years throw our way, we will be okay because we have a good, solid foundation.
"The Baby of the Family" - Basks in the sentimentality of being the last child, and are basically spoiled rotten. The youngest children tend to be most affectionate, and more sophisticated than their peers without older siblings to show them the ropes.
But what has spurred on this blog post this morning?? A thoughtful observation by my Middle Son.
My Middle Son sees life from all angles. He looks at a situation and sees beyond the obvious.
He has a father that didn't make the effort to get to know him. The only memories he has of his father ended in heartbreak (as a child) and anger (as an adult). He sees his father for who he is and adjusted his thoughts about him accordingly.
My Middle Son has been afforded the luxury of being able to take a step back from the situation and look at it from a different angle than his Older Brother because he only lived with his father for the first three months of his life and has no memories of that time. His Older Brother remembers and it is harder to be objective about 'fathers'.
My Second Son has stepped up to the plate and taken his Younger Brother under his wing on many occasions "to do things that a Dad would do with their son". He took on the role of a pseudo-dad role model at a very young age.
So when my Middle Son sees My Youngest son's dad making the effort to know and be a part of his son's life, my Middle Son respects that. My Youngest is caught up in his contented life and doesn't appreciate the fact that he does have a father who is trying to be a part of his life.
I have made the mistake of leaving 'the relationship' between My Youngest and his father between the two of them. It has become a habit to dis involve myself of the situation. Until my Middle Son brought it to my attention. It's about respect.
Yes, it is. Honor thy mother and thy father. And when thy father is doing his best ... he deserves to be acknowledged for that.
It takes a village to raise a child? Perhaps. But when you have adult children to bring the obvious to your attention, one must heed their advise. They've been there.
I think if the spacing of my boys had them ages 12, 14 and 16 right now, there would be a lot of 'teaching' going on (i.e. relentless torture?) as my oldest two tried to toughen up their younger brother.
"He should learn to stand up for himself"; "He should learn to be more outgoing"; "He should learn to speak for himself". Yup. I'm pretty sure that if his brothers were closer in age, they would be using their own tactics to teach their baby brother these life skills.
I tend to defend my parenting choices, but the reality is that I do digest what each of my Older Sons is telling me.
In my defense, I've done my best. My best wasn't always good enough, but I kept (keep) trying.
I was very strict with my oldest. I was determined not to fall into some of the parenting mistakes that I had witnessed. He was going to be accountable for his actions. We learned some very hard lessons together. I (being the adult) had different coping mechanisms. I talked. I confessed my 'sins of parenting' to my friends and family. They forgave me. My son? He kept it all inside. We've talked about it now. I think he's forgiven me. But the 20 years that he held onto the hurt and anger? That doesn't just vanish.
"Oldest Child Syndrome" - Oldest children are also known for being perfectionists. Because oldest children are held up to such high standards by their parents, they can often feel as though they are expected to be perfect at all times. Of course, this is an unreasonable expectation for any child and could lead to bigger problems later on in life.
Nine years later, My Oldest became a Big Brother. Add three years to that, and you have a 12 year old boy as well as a 3 year old. These are trying ages. The preteens were not fun years for My Oldest and I. I can still vividly remember the challenges of taking my (then) three year old child in public. He defined the phrase 'Temper Tantrums'. I think he read up on it and perfected the art.
So ... I learned to pick my battles. I didn't have the energy to fight over the small stuff. So I let some things slide. Trying to keep a rein on both of my children at the time was a challenge. I had visions of my little family becoming another statistic of "Single Parenthood'' facts and figures. Those years did not define the Best Years of Parenting for me.
"Middle Child Syndrome" - Parents tend to be much more easy-going, less anxious, and less demanding with second and third children. Thus many middle children grow up with a more relaxed attitude towards life ... The middle child usually has to fight harder for the attention of their parents and therefore crave the family spotlight ..."
Eleven years after that ... The Youngest Brother was born.
Our family dynamics were a little bit of a mess at that time. There has been a lot of healing going on during the 12 years of My Youngest's life. I believe that he has truly benefited from the growth of our family during his lifetime. For the most part, the memories he has of his Big Brothers are of them being adults. I feel that his Older Brothers are his role models. His Brothers are good men. He will grow up to be a good man. His Brothers treat me with respect. He treats me with respect. I have a lot of faith that no matter what the teen years throw our way, we will be okay because we have a good, solid foundation.
"The Baby of the Family" - Basks in the sentimentality of being the last child, and are basically spoiled rotten. The youngest children tend to be most affectionate, and more sophisticated than their peers without older siblings to show them the ropes.
But what has spurred on this blog post this morning?? A thoughtful observation by my Middle Son.
My Middle Son sees life from all angles. He looks at a situation and sees beyond the obvious.
He has a father that didn't make the effort to get to know him. The only memories he has of his father ended in heartbreak (as a child) and anger (as an adult). He sees his father for who he is and adjusted his thoughts about him accordingly.
My Middle Son has been afforded the luxury of being able to take a step back from the situation and look at it from a different angle than his Older Brother because he only lived with his father for the first three months of his life and has no memories of that time. His Older Brother remembers and it is harder to be objective about 'fathers'.
My Second Son has stepped up to the plate and taken his Younger Brother under his wing on many occasions "to do things that a Dad would do with their son". He took on the role of a pseudo-dad role model at a very young age.
So when my Middle Son sees My Youngest son's dad making the effort to know and be a part of his son's life, my Middle Son respects that. My Youngest is caught up in his contented life and doesn't appreciate the fact that he does have a father who is trying to be a part of his life.
I have made the mistake of leaving 'the relationship' between My Youngest and his father between the two of them. It has become a habit to dis involve myself of the situation. Until my Middle Son brought it to my attention. It's about respect.
Yes, it is. Honor thy mother and thy father. And when thy father is doing his best ... he deserves to be acknowledged for that.
It takes a village to raise a child? Perhaps. But when you have adult children to bring the obvious to your attention, one must heed their advise. They've been there.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
"I Like Who I Am When I'm With You"
I finally got around to watching the season finale of 'The Good Wife'. What was the quote that resonated with me long after the show was over? When Will told Alicia, "I like who I am, when I'm with you".
What a very telling statement.
When I was young and insecure, I was a different person around different people. I remember a time when three different people in three completely different areas of my life all ended up working together in one office. An old boss, a best friend and a neighbor. Omigosh. There was a little bit of panic within me, when I realized that if all three of them amalgamated those three separate pieces of me together, they would know who I really was.
Little did I know at the time, that people have much better things to talk about. But what was brought to my consciousness, was the degree that I changed when I was around different people.
That was about a quarter of a century ago. A lot has changed in that time.
I have meshed all of the pieces of my personality together and I am now the same person, no matter who I am around.
But what have I noticed as I have come to accept the 'one' person that I have become? I notice the difference when I change in the company of someone.
I have let some friendships slide because I have to pussyfoot around issues, be careful of what I say and withhold information that I usually talk about easily. There are 'unwritten rules' that have become part of that relationship.
I have not exiled anyone from my life, but I don't go and seek people out when I am not comfortable being myself in their company.
How and when did all of this come about?
I simply cannot pinpoint one exact incident. But I do have a particular circle of friends who were the first group of people that encouraged me to be the 'me' that I am. They accepted me for the person I was and I liked the person I became, when I was in their company.
The 'person' I was, when I was in the company of this group of friends became more confident. And I started being 'that person' more often. The person I had been all along.
There is a snowball effect in life. Whether it is a good thing or a bad thing, you seem to attract people to the negative or the positive in your life. After a decade of living a life where my friendships were based on how to survive in a bad situation, it was life changing to form friendships based on focusing on the positive.
When choosing a life partner, I think it is imperative that you choose someone who makes you feel 'the best you can be'. If a relationship brings out the parts of you that you don't like ... look very hard at the reasons why you are pursuing it. If you aren't at your best, chances are that the other person isn't either.
I would rather be alone, than be part of a relationship where I was not allowed the freedom of being who I am. I want to be likable ... and to do that, I must like the person that I am.
What a very telling statement.
When I was young and insecure, I was a different person around different people. I remember a time when three different people in three completely different areas of my life all ended up working together in one office. An old boss, a best friend and a neighbor. Omigosh. There was a little bit of panic within me, when I realized that if all three of them amalgamated those three separate pieces of me together, they would know who I really was.
Little did I know at the time, that people have much better things to talk about. But what was brought to my consciousness, was the degree that I changed when I was around different people.
That was about a quarter of a century ago. A lot has changed in that time.
I have meshed all of the pieces of my personality together and I am now the same person, no matter who I am around.
But what have I noticed as I have come to accept the 'one' person that I have become? I notice the difference when I change in the company of someone.
I have let some friendships slide because I have to pussyfoot around issues, be careful of what I say and withhold information that I usually talk about easily. There are 'unwritten rules' that have become part of that relationship.
I have not exiled anyone from my life, but I don't go and seek people out when I am not comfortable being myself in their company.
How and when did all of this come about?
I simply cannot pinpoint one exact incident. But I do have a particular circle of friends who were the first group of people that encouraged me to be the 'me' that I am. They accepted me for the person I was and I liked the person I became, when I was in their company.
The 'person' I was, when I was in the company of this group of friends became more confident. And I started being 'that person' more often. The person I had been all along.
There is a snowball effect in life. Whether it is a good thing or a bad thing, you seem to attract people to the negative or the positive in your life. After a decade of living a life where my friendships were based on how to survive in a bad situation, it was life changing to form friendships based on focusing on the positive.
When choosing a life partner, I think it is imperative that you choose someone who makes you feel 'the best you can be'. If a relationship brings out the parts of you that you don't like ... look very hard at the reasons why you are pursuing it. If you aren't at your best, chances are that the other person isn't either.
I would rather be alone, than be part of a relationship where I was not allowed the freedom of being who I am. I want to be likable ... and to do that, I must like the person that I am.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
The Price Tag of Contentment
I have been through many stages of financial strife, contentment and goals in my lifetime. I have finally arrived at the financial status of my dreams. I am not ruled by debt. I have enough money that allows me to make choices. I am comfortable.
I look at my three children. Their ages span the course of 20 years and though they are all at varied degrees of their financial lives right now, there seems to be a continuity that has run through their childhood that has carried onto their adult years (for my oldest two).
Then there is My Youngest.
It was his birthday yesterday. His Older Brother asked me if I knew what he wanted. My immediate response was, "He's like Grandma. If he wants something, he just buys it himself."
This is a 12 year old boy. He earns his allowance because of all of the assistance he gives me in walking my daycare family to and from school. He has been doing this for about five years. He has a side job of babysitting a 6 year old boy from time to time.
My youngest accumulates money without even trying. His allowances amass quite accidentally. His extra babysitting income sits idle in his bank account. He knows that he can ask for something without giving it a second thought. Because he has money in the bank. But chances are, he won't even need to touch that money because I owe him so many weeks of allowance.
There is something very serene about My Youngest . He is content with what he has. There is an acceptance within himself about who he is. I don't feel him trying to impress anyone to try to fit in. Nor do I don't hear or sense any of the effects of peer pressure that one may expect at this age. He just 'fits' into his life and the life of those he touches.
I listen to the words and tone that he uses with his friends and the children I babysit. I marvel at the respect he shows them, even when he is telling them to tow the line. The younger kids respect him and he has a nice little circle of friends.
He is enjoys having friends over and he enjoys his solitude just as much. He is a child that has never badgered me with "I'm bored", "Can we do something?" or "Can you entertain me?". After a stretch of being 'too busy', he loves being home ... alone ... in his 'space'.
He is 12 years old and he has already reached the point of financial security that I have spent the better part of 50 years attaining. He is not ruled by 'wants'. He has enough money to make choices. He is comfortable.
He has everything that money can't buy. He is content. There is no amount of money in the world that can buy that. He is rich. I hope that this wealth carries him through his teens and launches him into the adult world with ease.
I look at my three children. Their ages span the course of 20 years and though they are all at varied degrees of their financial lives right now, there seems to be a continuity that has run through their childhood that has carried onto their adult years (for my oldest two).
Then there is My Youngest.
It was his birthday yesterday. His Older Brother asked me if I knew what he wanted. My immediate response was, "He's like Grandma. If he wants something, he just buys it himself."
This is a 12 year old boy. He earns his allowance because of all of the assistance he gives me in walking my daycare family to and from school. He has been doing this for about five years. He has a side job of babysitting a 6 year old boy from time to time.
My youngest accumulates money without even trying. His allowances amass quite accidentally. His extra babysitting income sits idle in his bank account. He knows that he can ask for something without giving it a second thought. Because he has money in the bank. But chances are, he won't even need to touch that money because I owe him so many weeks of allowance.
There is something very serene about My Youngest . He is content with what he has. There is an acceptance within himself about who he is. I don't feel him trying to impress anyone to try to fit in. Nor do I don't hear or sense any of the effects of peer pressure that one may expect at this age. He just 'fits' into his life and the life of those he touches.
I listen to the words and tone that he uses with his friends and the children I babysit. I marvel at the respect he shows them, even when he is telling them to tow the line. The younger kids respect him and he has a nice little circle of friends.
He is enjoys having friends over and he enjoys his solitude just as much. He is a child that has never badgered me with "I'm bored", "Can we do something?" or "Can you entertain me?". After a stretch of being 'too busy', he loves being home ... alone ... in his 'space'.
He is 12 years old and he has already reached the point of financial security that I have spent the better part of 50 years attaining. He is not ruled by 'wants'. He has enough money to make choices. He is comfortable.
He has everything that money can't buy. He is content. There is no amount of money in the world that can buy that. He is rich. I hope that this wealth carries him through his teens and launches him into the adult world with ease.
Friday, June 11, 2010
A Most Wonderful Day
Last night was a wonderful prelude to a great day. Today, was My Youngest's birthday.
About a month ago I asked him to think about what he'd like to do for his birthday. He let out an exasperated sigh. I don't know if it's because there are so many choices ... or so few?
One night he excitedly told me that he had come up with an idea. 'Karate Kid' was opening on his birthday and he'd really like to go to that. Fine by me. So I asked him if he would like to invite a friend. Another sigh ...
A day or two later, he told me that 'yes' - he'd like to ask a friend to come along. At this point I realized that if he asked two friends, we could use two of our free movie passes and not only would all of us get in for free, but it covered popcorn and pop as well. Once again, I got another sigh. Yet another decision to be made. Life is tough.
Before long, he came up with the two friends he would like to invite. At this point, I decided to ask him if he would like to ask if they'd like to have them come home with him after school and then have them sleep over. My gosh. You would have thought I'd given him the world. This birthday was just getting better and better.
Then came the big decision. The birthday cake. Any ideas? I think that I had wiped the boy's mind clean of ideas after coming up with all of these hard answers to try and create a little bit of something special on his birthday. I asked if he'd like to see if we could get a 'Karate Kid' birthday cake. And that, we did.
He asked for nothing today. Each little thing that came about, came after being asked and then much consideration before he arrived at an answer. But he did ask for one thing. "Could we have pizza for supper?"
The day unfolded so easily, that one would think it was meant to be.
The birthday cake was not only perfect, but was ready early. I bought tickets for the movie this afternoon so that we were guaranteed admission. The pizza was not only cheap but it tasted marvelous. My babysitting charge was picked up an hour early, so getting to the movie with time to spare was not a problem. And the movie ...
I can't remember the last time I saw a movie that made me feel so good. You simply couldn't ask for a better movie to take three, 12 year old boys to. It taught some excellent lessons, it was humorous, it was inspiring and I think anyone could relate to it. My mom would enjoy it, I can see my older sons enjoying it, I can see my friends enjoying it and I know that the boys that accompanied me tonight enjoyed it!
We came home, had some Karate Kid Birthday Cake and the boys are being boys, as I try to bide my time a little before I allow myself to fall asleep.
It was a perfect day. I think My Youngest is very pleased. He asked for nothing. His expectations were low. He got to spend the day with friends. And it just happened to be his birthday.
I think every day should have the potential for a little piece of magic ... just like this.
About a month ago I asked him to think about what he'd like to do for his birthday. He let out an exasperated sigh. I don't know if it's because there are so many choices ... or so few?
One night he excitedly told me that he had come up with an idea. 'Karate Kid' was opening on his birthday and he'd really like to go to that. Fine by me. So I asked him if he would like to invite a friend. Another sigh ...
A day or two later, he told me that 'yes' - he'd like to ask a friend to come along. At this point I realized that if he asked two friends, we could use two of our free movie passes and not only would all of us get in for free, but it covered popcorn and pop as well. Once again, I got another sigh. Yet another decision to be made. Life is tough.
Before long, he came up with the two friends he would like to invite. At this point, I decided to ask him if he would like to ask if they'd like to have them come home with him after school and then have them sleep over. My gosh. You would have thought I'd given him the world. This birthday was just getting better and better.
Then came the big decision. The birthday cake. Any ideas? I think that I had wiped the boy's mind clean of ideas after coming up with all of these hard answers to try and create a little bit of something special on his birthday. I asked if he'd like to see if we could get a 'Karate Kid' birthday cake. And that, we did.
He asked for nothing today. Each little thing that came about, came after being asked and then much consideration before he arrived at an answer. But he did ask for one thing. "Could we have pizza for supper?"
The day unfolded so easily, that one would think it was meant to be.
The birthday cake was not only perfect, but was ready early. I bought tickets for the movie this afternoon so that we were guaranteed admission. The pizza was not only cheap but it tasted marvelous. My babysitting charge was picked up an hour early, so getting to the movie with time to spare was not a problem. And the movie ...
I can't remember the last time I saw a movie that made me feel so good. You simply couldn't ask for a better movie to take three, 12 year old boys to. It taught some excellent lessons, it was humorous, it was inspiring and I think anyone could relate to it. My mom would enjoy it, I can see my older sons enjoying it, I can see my friends enjoying it and I know that the boys that accompanied me tonight enjoyed it!
We came home, had some Karate Kid Birthday Cake and the boys are being boys, as I try to bide my time a little before I allow myself to fall asleep.
It was a perfect day. I think My Youngest is very pleased. He asked for nothing. His expectations were low. He got to spend the day with friends. And it just happened to be his birthday.
I think every day should have the potential for a little piece of magic ... just like this.
Not the Evening I Was Expecting ...
I woke up yesterday morning with a spring in my step. There was a little piece of happy inside of me as I drove off to school and faced the day. Thursday. The day that ended with my dance lesson.
I put in a little longer school day yesterday, as I logged the last of my required hours for the week. Another little task that was wrapped up. A good feeling.
I came home and I didn't even think to check the call display on the phone. It was a short while later that I wandered into my room and noticed the answering machine was flashing. A message.
My dance lesson was cancelled.
Not to fear, I still planned on attending the group classes and I will end up with a one hour lesson next week instead. It was still all good.
Until, it came time to get dressed up to go out. Again.
I feel like life has been propelling me from one thing to the next lately. Not that I'm overwhelmingly busy. Not that I don't take quiet moments to myself on a regular basis. Not that I'm complaining. But ... I just feel like I haven't sat still.
I fantasized about an evening where I crawled into my pj's and snuggled up on the couch to watch a movie. The more I thought about it, the more I knew I wasn't going to make it to that group dance class after all.
I invited My Youngest to pick a movie to watch together. It took us a while to co-ordinate our lives so that we sat down on the same couch, at the same time. But we eventually, we got there.
It felt like a little piece of heaven.
And do you know who was happiest?! Our cat.
'Andre' loves when His Boy and I sit on opposite ends of a couch. He makes his presence known by leaping up and joining us. He shares the wealth of his company with both of us (but has a keen desire to snuggle up under His Boy's blanket). He purrs. Loudly. Eventually, he decided to settle right in the middle of his Two Favorite People in the World. And sleep.
Little kitty moans would escape every now and again. If there is a sound that I enjoy more than a cat's purr, it is those contented little kitty moans.
Then he would stretch. Just enough to reach out and touch His Boy. It's like he likes to 'hold hands' and feel the presence of The One He Loves. Then a little while later, he reached out his second paw. Just to feel a little bit closer.
I believe Our Cat thinks My Youngest is his kitten. He can't refrain from licking His Boy when they are in a relaxed state. It reminds me of a mother cat with her kittens. It doesn't matter if it's a hand, an arm or a head (though he really does like grooming His Boy's head of hair). Andre seems unable to refrain from tending to His Boy. He just loves him. That's all.
I love evenings like this. Almost as much as dancing ...
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Sometimes ... I Think I Talk Too Much
I am not the person that I used to be. I've grown and evolved. I have come out of my shell. I've taken a few risks, gone on a few 'adventures', made new friends and tried new things. Oh ... and I've become rather chatty.
This 'chatty factor' bothers me at times. Am I talking without thinking first? Am I still listening to others? Have I offended anyone? Do I talk for the sake of talking? Or do I really have anything to say?
This morning's inspirational morning email made me stop to consider this:
Big Difference
There is a big difference between people who want to say something and people who have something to say.
Often, those with something to say don't talk much and those who want to say something won't be quiet.
~A MountainWings Original~
I remember being told (once upon a very long time ago) that because I spoke so rarely, people actually (used) to stop and listen to what I had to say. I was told this by a friend who was rather chatty. She said that she talked so much, that people had stopped listening to her.
Where am I on that spectrum?
Have I accidentally stepped over the boundaries of appropriate conversation? Have I unknowingly said something that was offensive to someone? Have I talked so much that I don't hear what others are trying to say?
A few of the courses that I have taken at school have made me stop and ponder this thought. A few quotes of late:
"We have two ears and only one tongue. Therefore, we should listen more than we talk."
"You can't listen if you are talking."
Emails are talking to me. Anonymous writers of a course that I'm taking are talking to me.
Chances are, if I'm so sensitive to what I am reading and hearing on the topic it is because I am guilty. My subconscious mind knows it, but my conscious mind is still catching up from the onslaught of words that I spew out on a regular basis.
Maybe it's because I'm relatively new to the business of chattiness, but I am still have days where the words of the day are ringing in my head at the end of the day. Those are the days that I know I talk too much.
But the days that I really worry about? Are the days when someone I know well, reacts differently around me. I am sensitive to the fact that I may have said something that I shouldn't have. Or not been as intuitive as I should have been. Or maybe they had something they had wanted to say and I didn't 'hear' them.
Those ... are the days I want to fix.
I should listen more than I talk.
This 'chatty factor' bothers me at times. Am I talking without thinking first? Am I still listening to others? Have I offended anyone? Do I talk for the sake of talking? Or do I really have anything to say?
This morning's inspirational morning email made me stop to consider this:
Big Difference
There is a big difference between people who want to say something and people who have something to say.
Often, those with something to say don't talk much and those who want to say something won't be quiet.
~A MountainWings Original~
I remember being told (once upon a very long time ago) that because I spoke so rarely, people actually (used) to stop and listen to what I had to say. I was told this by a friend who was rather chatty. She said that she talked so much, that people had stopped listening to her.
Where am I on that spectrum?
Have I accidentally stepped over the boundaries of appropriate conversation? Have I unknowingly said something that was offensive to someone? Have I talked so much that I don't hear what others are trying to say?
A few of the courses that I have taken at school have made me stop and ponder this thought. A few quotes of late:
"We have two ears and only one tongue. Therefore, we should listen more than we talk."
"You can't listen if you are talking."
Emails are talking to me. Anonymous writers of a course that I'm taking are talking to me.
Chances are, if I'm so sensitive to what I am reading and hearing on the topic it is because I am guilty. My subconscious mind knows it, but my conscious mind is still catching up from the onslaught of words that I spew out on a regular basis.
Maybe it's because I'm relatively new to the business of chattiness, but I am still have days where the words of the day are ringing in my head at the end of the day. Those are the days that I know I talk too much.
But the days that I really worry about? Are the days when someone I know well, reacts differently around me. I am sensitive to the fact that I may have said something that I shouldn't have. Or not been as intuitive as I should have been. Or maybe they had something they had wanted to say and I didn't 'hear' them.
Those ... are the days I want to fix.
I should listen more than I talk.
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