The Urge to Write

Every once in a while, the urge strikes me to write. It doesn't matter so much what I write at these times, just that I'm writing something... which really makes no sense to me. Anyway... I could write about how hot it was today, hour many hours I've been working, and how I nearly passed out in the heat today around 3 pm... but instead I'm thinking of this weekend.

I'm taking my dad, who is 79, to a family reunion. My family lives a long time, so most of my dad's 11 brothers and sisters will be there, including his two older sisters well into their 80's. I love visiting my dad's side of the family. We get together, and it's like one big family, no fighting, no drama, just like a bunch of old friends getting together. I love it. Most of all, I love hearing the stories my aunts and uncles tell of when they were kids, I love imaging my dad and his brothers and sisters getting into trouble for doing the same things I got in trouble for. It's great being around them, because they're the kind people who just make you feel good. Which really makes sense that the most popular job in my dad's family is nursing. I think at least 40% or 50% of them are nurses of some kind or another. And I never thought about it making sense until now.

Anyway, I'm glad to be taking my dad up there (Illinois). He doesn't like to travel anymore, but I know he'll be so pleased he went. It's so much trouble to travel so far, especially when you're old, but traveling always seems worth it after you get to your destination. Actually, it seems like it's usually worth it as soon as your done preparing to travel. That's the worst part, somehow full of both stress and excitement. Hopefully the excitement comes and you start traveling before the stress of it gets to you. Back to subject though, I'm looking forward to spending this time with my dad. We've had great conversations on long car rides before, but haven't been on a car ride together since... bwah... I don't know when. Maybe nearly 10 years? Wow. But, still I'm looking forward to it.

Hmmm, now I'm remembering one time at home. I don't remember if he and I were the only ones at home because we had been traveling, or if there was another reason my mom and little brother weren't at home. In any case, it was late, and I should have been in bed already, but I said I wanted a snack... which I think is kid-speak for "I really don't want to go to bed yet"... but my dad played along. We stared inside the refrigerator for a long time, and finally decided to eat the hard boiled eggs. I think I must have been about 8 years old. Dad had a few, and I had, well, I guess about 5... but it seemed like a dozen. I didn't really like the eggs so much, I just liked peeling them, and I enjoyed the time with dad. He wasn't tired that night, and he didn't have other things he needed to do, we just sat in the kitchen and peeled and ate eggs, and talked. I don't even remember what about. They weren't the normal questions you ask children to get them to talk, and then tell them how nice whatever they're talking about is. My dad asked me what I thought about things... and then he listened. Not in a cute way, waiting for me to say funny things, he listened and cared. He didn't tell me I was wrong when I was wrong about something, he just let me have my opinion, and he explained his opinion. He never told me why he was right, or that he was right, I just always assumed he was, because what he said made so much sense. It was a great time, anytime I could talk with my dad. He listened. How many adults really listen to what kids are saying? How many sit and have a conversation with kids? I sat, and peeled eggs, and ate them (after I tried giving them to dad), not because I liked them, but because I was enjoying the time. He never sent me to bed, he just waited for me to get tired, which was usually around the time I should have gone to be anyway, and then put me to bed. I may have stayed up an extra 15 minutes, but I felt like I had really gotten away with something. My dad was a great parent... I should spend more time thinking about how he raised me, so I can remember how to raise kids if and when I have children.

Also, I really like these old memories... I wonder if I am turning into an old, reminiscing man before my time?

Our feelings don't believe in each other

I've written on this subject before, but it always returns to me. When we feel a certain way, any kind of emotion, we can't really imagine feeling any other way than the way we currently feel, I think even to the point where knowing you will once again feel happy, or sad, or anything different from how you currently feel becomes only an outline of the emotion. You know you will be happy again, or sad, and that it will feel good, or heartbreaking, but to actually comprehend the feeling? I don't believe it is possible.

But to my point, not many posts ago I said a lot about what I was, how I was not a good person, how I was an angry person capable of terrible things. That is as untrue now as it was true then. I'm not a different person, not really, but my emotions are different. Perhaps who you are depends on what emotions you are feeling... and what you are capable of, your extremes of both good and bad, is just the potential of who you could be. And perhaps who you are is really the mean (frequency average) of the things you do/the emotions you are most normally at/the potential ways of acting which you most frequenty fulfill?

I've had a good month, and life has been good to live again. I'm happy. And I find it strange that I was so sure I was this person with evil potential, though now I can hardly imagine it. And of course it's simply solved, everyone always says people are capable of the most amazing and terrible things both. What I am trying to understand is nothing new... but there is a difference between knowing the truth and understanding it. I've known the truth for a long while... but I'm only now understanding it. That is why I bore you, dear reader, with telling you things you already know.


Also, I'm at a strange point in my life. I don't really have life questions anymore. Sure, there are things I don't know, but I'm not trying to figure my life out, I'm not trying to figure out who I am... I have old adages aplenty for every situation it seems. And I know how to be myself finally, it's something I can feel now, though always before it was something for which I searched. Now, I try to understand the truths that I've learned. Hmmm, maybe I am being very unclear? Think of an experiment. You do it over and over, and always get the same result... so you learn "If this .../then this" and you know the truth of it. But, understanding why this result happens... that's something completely different. I know the truth of a lot of things in my life, but now instead of searching for the truth, I'm searching for understanding. Hmmm, does that make sense?

Newness

Hmmm... I don't know where to start. I moved into an apartment with a friend. So far it's great, except for his puppy/dog (8 months old) which whines a lot... but otherwise, yeah, great. I haven't been so relaxed for at least 2 years, since I was in Germany. I'm my own person again and my time is my own. I'm sleeping great, and in the new apartment, everything is closer; stores, work, theater.... :D

I was really disappointed and then a little, well, a lot, angry about the interview for the job I didn't get. But, it may have been exactly what I needed, because now I'm focused again, and I've decided to get things done. It's my life, and I'm ready to live it again. I won't tell you about my plans, because I believe that the more you talk about something, the less likely you are to do it. So, after it is done, I will tell you. ;)

So, what does tomorrow hold? I don't know, but for the first time in a long time, I'm excited to find out. Yeah, life, right now, I'm loving it. :)

Thank you, that is all. ;)