Day 2/2

Holy shit, my brain moves fast when I'm on my own. I wish I could slow it down... I want to hear my voice... or my voices. Don't get nervous, they're all me but I've learned that we all have several phases of life - family, self, work, relationships, love, family. And we all have to master these things to be happy. All of these things. We learn one at a time until we concurrently love them all. Concurrently. Or whatever other word I should use for at the same time. That's where love is, man. Self love.

You work on the phases, one at a time. That's the order I worked on mine up there. I don't think order is important, though.

(You know, it's a lot easier to live this stuff than it is to write about it.)

I'm going to try to write this as I think about it. Just word vomit until I get it out. Most of the time I want to stomp my feet and

(Sometimes you can't get it out, though. You just sit there and think "I'm going to type about whatever I can think" and your mind goes blank. No, not blank. You think of all of the things you want to say.)

But you don't want to say them, in case someone won't agree with you. Because it's kind of a reflection. On the day,

[It's interesting, though, because you want to share it but you don't want to talk about it. It's just stuff. It's just things.]

{I want to think! I want to learn. When I was high all the time I was teaching myself to not think all the time. To not learn. You push through your lessons like one, two, three.}

It's rarely that easy, though. And when things are super easy for you when you're growing up

{I can do this. I know I can do this.

But it certainly slows things down. I guess I'll try to push it out. That's where I'm struggling the most with my work blog.

So, anyway, fast. I've already done a check mark on all of these phases. Right now I'm practicing to be a parent. I'm at my "family" phase again. This time it's "my family" phase. It's also my "living my life" phase. The culmination of all of the things I've learned.

(I already said that. Did I mention that?)

[Okay, one of the things I've learned is that you can get in shit at work by saying something about the company. Even if it's these asshole kids who are being mean because they're jealous. They're just jealous, right, friends?]

Whoa! Almost went off on another tangent!

{That's the problem, though. How could you tell? I don't care what they think. Small town bullies? Or people who were trying to get ahead and would do so at any cost.

I didn't care. I was so embarrassed at first. But then I couldn't figure out why I was embarrassed. Because they saw things about me that they didn't need to know about the person who had been their manager. And would be their assistant manager.

Was it Jordan? Or Sherry? I often wonder that. Just saying.

Anyway, I figured it was just as well. I didn't want to stay there anyway. I tried. I mean, I loved the restaurant and I loved the bar. I'm not really big on feeling like I'm five years old.}

[It's okay when I'm thinking about working hard that my heart goes BANG! when I'm thinking about my career, right? I always loved work. When I was a kid, I didn't play in the sand. I didn't pretend I had a baby or that some handsome man came and swept me off my feet. I dreamed I was in an office. I would staple things and have meetings. My tea party was coffee across my desk. My play time ended with the closing of the door, and a proud "Good evening, people that I work with."

Then I started babysitting. I was nine. I was so excited. My sister was a babysitter and I wanted to be a babysitter because I wanted to be everything my sister was. At first I loved it. Just as I had loved that my sister got calls from boys before that. And as I had loved figure skating before that. And Brownies. And Girl Guides. I was the youngest person to join our school choir. They came and asked for me.

They came and asked for me. My sister graduated (or whatever they call it) from Girl Guides and became a Pathfinder. They asked me to be in the play. They asked me to help them make tissue flowers for their float boat. I was all yes, I was in. Because they asked me. They made me feel special. {I have to pee.}

Ma'am, we're going to have to ask you to step away from the computer for a while. Are you making any sense? Inside your head? Checking for similarities? Rereading books you read when you were getting to the new phase of life stage.

My problem isn't believing what I can do now. I know I can do it. I don't have the slightest doubt. I know. The only way I can communicate that is to tell stories. It's what I do. But I don't want to tell any stories of myself now. Perhaps as it pertains to the point I'm trying to make in my long winded blah, blah, blahs. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

But at the same time, I just want to talk about people. My perspective about people. I don't want to tell anyone else's story, I want to tell my perception of their story. I don't know their story, I wasn't there. I just want to tell it how I see it.

Some people can do that without the fear of hurting themself or someone else.

[Yes, I am aware that "themself" is not a word. Because, you know, biggest weakness speech all prepared!]

{One of my main rules I had for myself when I took the year off was that there were no rules. Hypocrisy? Possibly. I wanted to explore that.

Did I run because I was embarrassed? Or did I run because it was an easy way out? Depended on who you asked. But I knew it was for the best and so I went for it. I decided not to go to work that night because I didn't care enough to fight for it. I learned the lesson. Or at least had gathered the information I needed and had no reason to try any harder. Or anymore. I just didn't want to face it. That's the true test on if you want something. How hard you try to keep or lose it.

[That's my life test. Let a decision be made for you and watch how you react. The more you react, that's what it's worth.]

{I'm glad you brought that up. Because I haven't stopped reacting to what happened the next day. When he called me up the next day and said "how could you?" And I realized that in reacting, I had hurt my friend. I didn't want that. I hadn't immediately considered the fact that it would impact his sales. I wasn't thinking about his wallet, I was thinking about my heart. Then I realized I wasn't 12 anymore and that wasn't good enough.

So, when I started having issues with my current boss, I didn't want to react. I didn't want to hurt others because of my need to flee. I don't flee anymore. I make an informed decision. I do my best to take in all of the details and lessons and look to my heart and my gut for the answer.

[I used to look at how others treated me for the answer. My parents said if you fall, it's going to hurt. And I said I don't care. And I fell. And it hurt. It hurt so much. My friends said if you fall, it's going to be embarrassing. And I said I don't even know what you're talking about. I wouldn't be embarrassed if I fell in front of a bus stopped outside my school in grade 9 and was filled with nearly everyone in my class. What would be embarrassing? I didn't mean to fall. I didn't try. Oh my god, I was so embarrassed.

But why didn't you care about me? How could you treat me like that? Why didn't you ask if I was okay or help me get up right away and brush me off? My parents taught me that that's what people do. They reach down and help someone up.

And if you do that, they will like and want you. They will give you a record and say "I wanted to give this to an especially good girl."

{And your mother will say "Cathy'd really like that" and all you could think was "I'm better than Cathy. I'm better than everyone! All the time. Me! Me! Me!}

[I think I said it outloud one time. Maybe many when I was a kid. But probably not. How was I supposed to know what I was feeling? To articulate. To stomp my feet on the ground without stomping my feet on the ground because I wasn't allowed to stomp my feet on the ground.

Whenever I pushed too far, they told me that was enough. Whenever I got to the point where I wanted to throw things, bang my head against the floor, or *gasp* swear, they told me enough. Actually they didn't tell me. They told my brother and sister and I learned.

I watched them fight and I learned it was dumb because they both got bruises. You just couldn't see them all because some bruises are on the outside.

I learned that some are worse than others but they were all just bruises. I picked up every life lesson I was taught and then I wanted to teach them to myself so I could see the signs, see the lesson coming, watch how I reacted, decide if I'd reacted properly, what could I have done better, what would I do different next time?

[Okay, where was I?

In the comma?

{Not in the comma.}

Bracket. Yes, bracket. I don't care what it's called. I'm thinking about the comma. What comma?

I was a very very good learner of lessons. I learned everyone else's lessons. I feel like I already said that but some of the lessons need to be repeated until I hear them. And when I hear them, I learn them, I reflect on them, I tell jokes about them, I cry about them and I move on.

We had this on our wall when I was a kid and learning to read. I would look at it, time and time again. Because I wanted to know what it said because I was learning to read. If I first saw this poem I couldn't think about what it meant. I'm pretty sure my mother read it to me. I probably asked her over and over. What does that say? And then I memorized it. Then I learned what word was what and learned to read it. And I believed it so hard.

Here it is:

CHILDREN LEARN WHAT THEY LIVE

Dorothy Law Nolte

If a child lives with criticism,
he learns to condemn.

If a child lives with hostility,
he learns to fight.

If a child lives with fear,
he learns to be apprehensive.

If a child lives with pity,
he learns to feel sorry for himself.

If a child lives with ridicule,
he learns to be shy.

If a child lives with jealousy,
he learns what envy is.

If a child lives with shame,
he learns to feel guilty.

If a child lives with encouragement,
he learns to be confident.

If a child lives with tolerance,
he learns to be patient.

If a child lives with praise,
he learns to be appreciative.

If a child lives with acceptance,
he learns to love.

If a child lives with approval,
he learns to like himself.

If a child lives with recognition,
he learns that it is good to have a goal.

If a child lives with sharing,
he learns about generosity.

If a child lives with honesty and fairness,
he learns what truth and justice are.

If a child lives with security,
he learns to have faith in himself and in those about him.

If a child lives with friendliness,
he learns that the world is a nice place in which to live.

If you live with serenity,
your child will live with peace of mind.

With what is your child living?

I just realized something else. I'm still learning. I'm still asking what did you teach others? When you're 85 years old and you get to tell one line about who you are and who you were, what do you want to say?

[This is how I look ahead. Watch, do, teach. That's how life is to me. And sometimes, when it's a good lesson or a lesson that I didn't expect to learn, I tell it back to them to see if I'm on target. Because if I'm right, I get a feeling that far, far outweighs eating bad, or smoking cigarettes, or drinking beer, or smoking pot, or seeing if I can get a man to sleep with me.

{Those were my old rewards. Those were my old lessons. And then I said "What am I living?". And then I said "Is that true? Is that what everyone else thinks? Are they right? Is it what I want, is it a direction I want to go?

And sometimes I took the wrong direction and regretted it. Sometimes I took the right direction and regretted it. Sometimes I took the direction someone told me to go and regretted it. And every single time I regretted it, I learned something.


I'm also loving everything else in my life. Everything is good, getting better and pretty much on track of what I wanted. In the process of what I hoped. At the beginning of what I dream. I love and am loved. I could never share the entire contents of this journal because I don't think he could get past the details. I don't know if he should be asked to. Those are my details, not his. We'll learn each other's details as we go. I am completely upfront and forthwith about my feelings. Even when that means not expressing them. Even, even when that means expressing them.

[Because that was always the hardest part.}

I want to honour the spirit of them. The seniors, the employees, the families, the management staff. I want to say "Yes, we need you!", "How did you learn that?" and "What would you say if...?"