If we look at what we left behind, to give us an inkling of where we are heading, it's easy to conclude that 2017 is going to be a very challenging year. As a citizen of the world, being a part of a society, governed by politicians, it's hard to accept what 2016 brought, and is promising to bring, as we move towards the future.
About a year ago, at the beginning of 2016, I wrote about 2015 being the prequel of something profound (http://www.scandinasian.org/2016/01/2015-prequel.html)
And profound it has been.
Politically, 2016 sucker punched me countless of times and it left me dazed and confused, and maybe slightly concussed. A year later, the world we are about to step into is profoundly unsettling.
However, personally, 2016 was one of the most valuable, treasured and profoundly impactful years of my life. About a year ago, I stepped into my role as a volunteer Domestic Violence Counselor. About two months later, I also became a certified Sexual Assault Counselor. Over the past year I have spent my time at a Domestic Violence shelter, and at the hospital, accompanying survivors of sexual assault during their forensic medical exam.
Through this volunteer work, I have learned so much, met so many amazing people and been entrusted with the most personal and naked realities of many survivors.
The strength of the survivors I have met is absolutely awe-inspiring. When they are at their most vulnerable and fragile, they are required to show superhuman strength and bravery, just to be able to endure what none of us should ever have to endure. It's much like David and Goliath, but imagine David coming to the fight without his sling, with a broken arm and a broken spirit. Imagine the strength it would take to still show up and face The Giant.
The compassion of the people I've had the good fortune to work with, keeps my heart and soul toasty warm, regardless of the frigid storm that threatens the world we live in. The support staff, my fellow volunteers and the nurses at the hospital fill my heart with so much hope and they lift my spirit. I owe the ever-expanding soft spot in my heart to them.
This has also been the most humbling experience of my life. The freedom, and humility, to admit that I knew nothing, ultimately gave me endless room to learn without prejudice. When you walk into a room, fully aware of the fact that you know nothing about who you are about to meet, what their needs are and what is about to take place, you learn how to be comfortable with the unknown. And there is an endless amount of unknowns, which in turn means there is an endless amount of things to learn. As long as we can admit that we know very little, we give ourselves so much to discover.
So, here we are, at the threshold of what is to come. It hurts my very core to witness humanity, countries and people being pulled apart by anger and fear, all while, what we desire is to be seen, heard and considered. As much dread and challenges as 2016 brought, it also brought me the very tools to stay on course. I will let strength, compassion and humility be my compass on this journey.
Thursday, January 19, 2017
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
Action Plan
One week has passed since the election. During the past week, I've felt deep worry and profound sadness. I've cried a few solemn tears and I've balled my eyes out. But I've spent most of the week in complete denial. I needed a week, to come to terms with things, and to delay my reaction. Writing this any sooner, would not have been productive, it would most likely have been incoherent ramblings of an emotional wreck.
So, now what?
I will not go into details on the popular vote, the electoral college, polling or the media. I will not try and decipher the agenda of the next president. I would like to dedicate this space to what you and I can do, as humans, in the world we live in, regardless of the presidential election, citizenship or where you live in the world.
It's fair to say that the US election ignited feelings. I believe it's a good thing, when politics and policy making engages people. Whatever emotions we are feeling, this is a good time to channel that energy into action.
I here by challenge you to do something, to participate. If there is a will, there is a way. If you really want to get in the thick of things, get involved in politics, whether it be local, regional, state or national. Volunteering is another great way to get involved in the community and to support issues important to you. If you don't have time to volunteer, you can donate to a cause you care about.
But what if you don't have time, means or interest in doing any of that? Maybe you feel like you want to do something, but not sure what you can do and how it can fit it into your everyday life. I will offer you four options that are highly adaptable and can fit into any lifestyle.
Speak up. If you hear something that doesn't sound right to you, speak up. At times people might find you difficult, but if we want people to participate, we need to engage them in dialogue. No need to be overtly aggressive or confrontational about it, but do call people out. And give them room to explain their thoughts/comments/jokes to you. This might give them the opportunity to think things through, for themselves.
Be an active bystander. If you see things happening, intervene! It might feel scary, or it might feel like you don't know enough to get involved, but go ahead and disrupt. If you see someone being bullied at school or at work, a person being cornered in a bar, or see something that doesn't feel right, listen to your intuition. You can be direct in your approach, or partner up with someone (stranger or not), or create a diversion, anything to involve more people in the situation. We need to let each other know that we are not alone in this world, that people see us and are willing to help us.
Use your privilege. Without going into the many inner workings of privilege, what I'm asking is that you care about the issues that might not directly apply to you. It's important for men to support women's issues, it's important for the majority to learn from the minorities, it's important for heterosexual people to listen to the LGBTQQI communities, important for the urban population to respect the rural population and it's important for the young to care about the old and the old to care about the young. But make sure to remember the key words: support, listen, learn, respect and care. This is about giving people power, and about creating room for people to be heard. It is most definitely not about taking power away by speaking on someone else's behalf.
Take care of each other. Not for a second do I believe that half of the US population are bigoted racist misogynists. What I do believe is that millions of people, around the world, feel disenfranchised, angry and forgotten. I also believe that in order to feel better about life, we need to feel that we are being seen, heard and taken seriously. That I matter. And here is were every one of us can make a difference. We don't need to be politicians, it's enough that we are neighbors, colleagues, acquaintances and strangers, who choose to care, just a little. If we can see each other, listen to each other and respect each other, we might ultimately help each other get a better sense of self, and remind each other that we are all significant. At the very core of my beliefs, is my conviction that the more we care about people, the more people care about people.
Here is my pledge. I will be an active participant. I will do my best, to see and to hear people around me. When someone feels forgotten, I will try my best to remind them that they are not. I will care about people, even those who don't yet care about me.
So, now what?
I will not go into details on the popular vote, the electoral college, polling or the media. I will not try and decipher the agenda of the next president. I would like to dedicate this space to what you and I can do, as humans, in the world we live in, regardless of the presidential election, citizenship or where you live in the world.
It's fair to say that the US election ignited feelings. I believe it's a good thing, when politics and policy making engages people. Whatever emotions we are feeling, this is a good time to channel that energy into action.
I here by challenge you to do something, to participate. If there is a will, there is a way. If you really want to get in the thick of things, get involved in politics, whether it be local, regional, state or national. Volunteering is another great way to get involved in the community and to support issues important to you. If you don't have time to volunteer, you can donate to a cause you care about.
But what if you don't have time, means or interest in doing any of that? Maybe you feel like you want to do something, but not sure what you can do and how it can fit it into your everyday life. I will offer you four options that are highly adaptable and can fit into any lifestyle.
Speak up. If you hear something that doesn't sound right to you, speak up. At times people might find you difficult, but if we want people to participate, we need to engage them in dialogue. No need to be overtly aggressive or confrontational about it, but do call people out. And give them room to explain their thoughts/comments/jokes to you. This might give them the opportunity to think things through, for themselves.
Be an active bystander. If you see things happening, intervene! It might feel scary, or it might feel like you don't know enough to get involved, but go ahead and disrupt. If you see someone being bullied at school or at work, a person being cornered in a bar, or see something that doesn't feel right, listen to your intuition. You can be direct in your approach, or partner up with someone (stranger or not), or create a diversion, anything to involve more people in the situation. We need to let each other know that we are not alone in this world, that people see us and are willing to help us.
Use your privilege. Without going into the many inner workings of privilege, what I'm asking is that you care about the issues that might not directly apply to you. It's important for men to support women's issues, it's important for the majority to learn from the minorities, it's important for heterosexual people to listen to the LGBTQQI communities, important for the urban population to respect the rural population and it's important for the young to care about the old and the old to care about the young. But make sure to remember the key words: support, listen, learn, respect and care. This is about giving people power, and about creating room for people to be heard. It is most definitely not about taking power away by speaking on someone else's behalf.
Take care of each other. Not for a second do I believe that half of the US population are bigoted racist misogynists. What I do believe is that millions of people, around the world, feel disenfranchised, angry and forgotten. I also believe that in order to feel better about life, we need to feel that we are being seen, heard and taken seriously. That I matter. And here is were every one of us can make a difference. We don't need to be politicians, it's enough that we are neighbors, colleagues, acquaintances and strangers, who choose to care, just a little. If we can see each other, listen to each other and respect each other, we might ultimately help each other get a better sense of self, and remind each other that we are all significant. At the very core of my beliefs, is my conviction that the more we care about people, the more people care about people.
Here is my pledge. I will be an active participant. I will do my best, to see and to hear people around me. When someone feels forgotten, I will try my best to remind them that they are not. I will care about people, even those who don't yet care about me.
Monday, November 7, 2016
The US Presidential Election
First time I attempted to write this post, it was one month left until the election. Then it was a couple of weeks. Then it was one week left, dwindling down to a couple of days. And now, here we are, the night before the election.
I feel so many different things, I have many thoughts and there sure is a whole lot to say, yet I can't seem to find any words. I'm not even sure where I'm going with this post. I guess I feel that I should comment on the election somehow, considering how politics has been a passion of mine for years.
It's a tricky thing, being passionate about something. When you are passionate, you tend to care a lot. When you care a lot, you leave yourself vulnerable to a whole range of emotions. I used to get riled up over the smallest of perceived injustices, and I would rejoice with the smallest perceived successes. Because to me, politics is not about power and control, it's about people.
I think that's why I'm left speechless in this election. Regardless of party affiliations, ideological convictions or personal agendas, I believe that previous presidential candidates have all held a personal interpretation of what would be good for the country and for its people. It has been important to them to implement what they see as improvements for the population. There will always be disagreement over the content, but I welcome that debate, because an open debate about the public good should be at the heart of every democracy.
But what happens when a presidential candidate only cares about their own person, and is willing to take advantage of people, manipulate, intimidate and bully just to boost their own ego. When it's no longer about the people, when it's all about one single person. One person who encourages people to fear, fuels their anger and rewards their hate. One person who could not care less about who gets hurt or trampled on during the process, one who does whatever for his own amusement. A man who treats society like a mockery, a game.
Fear, anger and hate are such strong and consuming emotions. When tapped into, a person seems to be rendered blind and unable to think clearly. Why else would people look to a lying disrespectful rasist misogynist to "make their country great"? When people who struggle to put food on the table, applaud a millionaire bragging about not paying taxes, or when women would gladly give up their 19th amendment right to vote just to prevent women from voting against Donal Trump, we surely have moved beyond the interest of the country and become pawns in a sinister and twisted game.
To sum things up, the feeling I'm left with is one of profound sadness. Much can be said about Donald Trump, but he is only one man. It's what he has tapped into and unleashed that is breaking my heart. The many who have hated in silence, but found a voice in Donald Trump. Have they always been this many? Have they always feared and hated with such intensity? Have they all wanted to laugh at people with disabilities? Or bully bereaved parents? Have they always applauded sexual assault? For people like me, who value compassion, understanding and respect, this is a lot to contend with.
So yes, the countdown to the election might soon be over, but the consequences of this year's presidential campaigns are already being felt. And whatever the outcome tomorrow, the general lack of enthusiasm and hope is discouraging. Even I, the self-proclaimed optimist, is feeling deflated. I think I might need a moment, a moment to sulk. But I'm sure, before long, I'll be ready to pull myself up by my bootstraps and with renewed energy get to work, and participate in creating the society I want to live in.
I feel so many different things, I have many thoughts and there sure is a whole lot to say, yet I can't seem to find any words. I'm not even sure where I'm going with this post. I guess I feel that I should comment on the election somehow, considering how politics has been a passion of mine for years.
It's a tricky thing, being passionate about something. When you are passionate, you tend to care a lot. When you care a lot, you leave yourself vulnerable to a whole range of emotions. I used to get riled up over the smallest of perceived injustices, and I would rejoice with the smallest perceived successes. Because to me, politics is not about power and control, it's about people.
I think that's why I'm left speechless in this election. Regardless of party affiliations, ideological convictions or personal agendas, I believe that previous presidential candidates have all held a personal interpretation of what would be good for the country and for its people. It has been important to them to implement what they see as improvements for the population. There will always be disagreement over the content, but I welcome that debate, because an open debate about the public good should be at the heart of every democracy.
But what happens when a presidential candidate only cares about their own person, and is willing to take advantage of people, manipulate, intimidate and bully just to boost their own ego. When it's no longer about the people, when it's all about one single person. One person who encourages people to fear, fuels their anger and rewards their hate. One person who could not care less about who gets hurt or trampled on during the process, one who does whatever for his own amusement. A man who treats society like a mockery, a game.
Fear, anger and hate are such strong and consuming emotions. When tapped into, a person seems to be rendered blind and unable to think clearly. Why else would people look to a lying disrespectful rasist misogynist to "make their country great"? When people who struggle to put food on the table, applaud a millionaire bragging about not paying taxes, or when women would gladly give up their 19th amendment right to vote just to prevent women from voting against Donal Trump, we surely have moved beyond the interest of the country and become pawns in a sinister and twisted game.
To sum things up, the feeling I'm left with is one of profound sadness. Much can be said about Donald Trump, but he is only one man. It's what he has tapped into and unleashed that is breaking my heart. The many who have hated in silence, but found a voice in Donald Trump. Have they always been this many? Have they always feared and hated with such intensity? Have they all wanted to laugh at people with disabilities? Or bully bereaved parents? Have they always applauded sexual assault? For people like me, who value compassion, understanding and respect, this is a lot to contend with.
So yes, the countdown to the election might soon be over, but the consequences of this year's presidential campaigns are already being felt. And whatever the outcome tomorrow, the general lack of enthusiasm and hope is discouraging. Even I, the self-proclaimed optimist, is feeling deflated. I think I might need a moment, a moment to sulk. But I'm sure, before long, I'll be ready to pull myself up by my bootstraps and with renewed energy get to work, and participate in creating the society I want to live in.
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
Consumed by hatred
I hate with such passion. I hate will such intensity. I hate with the core of my being. I hate that you are alive. I hate you so much, I want you to die.
I don't know those feelings. I have no idea how it feels to hate so much. I don't understand where those feelings come from, how they grab ahold or how they fester and infiltrate every cell of a person.
Every time I see/hear/read messages of hate, I ponder these thoughts. I never reach a conclusion. How can I even begin to relate, when I've never felt it myself? There is such a vast and insurmountable gap between "almost hate" and hate. And then, in addition to that, to hate so much that you want someone to die, or hate so much that you go out of your way to kill, I feel completely at loss, I fundamentally don't understand, my brain does not compute.
In my life, I've always valued compassion and empathy. To me, it's one of the greatest experiences of being human, our capacity to relate and to connect with one another. But in this case, I might make an exception. I don't want to be able to empathize. I don't ever want to know this kind of hatred. I never want to find myself wishing for death and destruction. I much rather continue on in life wishing for hope and change.
I don't know those feelings. I have no idea how it feels to hate so much. I don't understand where those feelings come from, how they grab ahold or how they fester and infiltrate every cell of a person.
Every time I see/hear/read messages of hate, I ponder these thoughts. I never reach a conclusion. How can I even begin to relate, when I've never felt it myself? There is such a vast and insurmountable gap between "almost hate" and hate. And then, in addition to that, to hate so much that you want someone to die, or hate so much that you go out of your way to kill, I feel completely at loss, I fundamentally don't understand, my brain does not compute.
In my life, I've always valued compassion and empathy. To me, it's one of the greatest experiences of being human, our capacity to relate and to connect with one another. But in this case, I might make an exception. I don't want to be able to empathize. I don't ever want to know this kind of hatred. I never want to find myself wishing for death and destruction. I much rather continue on in life wishing for hope and change.
Wednesday, February 17, 2016
Love takes Courage
This passed weekend, many people around the world celebrated Valentine's Day. For some, it was serious business involving intricate planning, gifts, flowers, surprises, dinners, trips and grand gestures of love. For some, it was an intimate affair with a home-cooked meal and a good movie. Some gave their children a little extra attention. Some gave their parents a call. Some texted hearts and happy emojis to their friends. Some didn't really care, and some would rather have seen it removed from the calendar year.
I have no opinions on the opinions about Valentine's Day, but since February 14th is recognized as Valentine's day in many parts of the world, I want to take this opportunity (though a few days late) to share some love-related thoughts.
Love plays such a central role in many people's lives, whether it be romantic love, love of children, love of family, love of friends or all the above. With such an engulfing and exposing emotion, no wonder love can both heal and hurt.
We learn to love from a very early age, we love our parents, grandparents and/or friends. So, from a very early age, we are vulnerable to being hurt, maybe by a secret our first BFF promised never to tell, or by a parent who couldn't make it to a recital. As we grow older, and perhaps have our first romantic love encounter, that experience will usually also translate into our very first soul-wrenching break-up.
Eventually we might find our soulmate, the one who completes us and makes the world make sense. But we know, for a lot of people, that soulmate will be the most hurtful relationship they will ever have. Many will start families, and bring new life into the world. The love for their children is unlike any other love and with that comes enough worry and fear to last a lifetime.
We lose people we love. They grow old or their lives are cut short by sickness, accidents or other forces at play. Unhealthy love can trap people in abusive relationships and it can be a life-shattering force of destruction.
We don't know the outcome when we love. We just love. And when we love completely and wholeheartedly, without holding back, we expose everything that we are, and leave ourselves naked in the hands of the person we love. We trust them with our dreams, hopes and happiness and trust that they will keep all of it, and ultimately us, safe. When you give away that much power, you leave yourself vulnerable to be hurt, in ways that are unparalleled. And yet, most us us, long to love and love to love.
Sometimes, especially in this day and age, our world can seem to be a scary place. We are encouraged to toughen up, to be prepared, so that we can defend ourselves, against the many things that can attack us and is out to harm us. But in reality, fear and anger is pretty easy, it doesn't take much courage to be afraid. Love on the other hand, takes real bravery. So if you're a person who love, have loved or is able to love, when you get up in the morning and get ready to step into the world, remember how brave you are, and that real bravery comes from having the courage to love and to trust.
I have no opinions on the opinions about Valentine's Day, but since February 14th is recognized as Valentine's day in many parts of the world, I want to take this opportunity (though a few days late) to share some love-related thoughts.
Love plays such a central role in many people's lives, whether it be romantic love, love of children, love of family, love of friends or all the above. With such an engulfing and exposing emotion, no wonder love can both heal and hurt.
We learn to love from a very early age, we love our parents, grandparents and/or friends. So, from a very early age, we are vulnerable to being hurt, maybe by a secret our first BFF promised never to tell, or by a parent who couldn't make it to a recital. As we grow older, and perhaps have our first romantic love encounter, that experience will usually also translate into our very first soul-wrenching break-up.
Eventually we might find our soulmate, the one who completes us and makes the world make sense. But we know, for a lot of people, that soulmate will be the most hurtful relationship they will ever have. Many will start families, and bring new life into the world. The love for their children is unlike any other love and with that comes enough worry and fear to last a lifetime.
We lose people we love. They grow old or their lives are cut short by sickness, accidents or other forces at play. Unhealthy love can trap people in abusive relationships and it can be a life-shattering force of destruction.
We don't know the outcome when we love. We just love. And when we love completely and wholeheartedly, without holding back, we expose everything that we are, and leave ourselves naked in the hands of the person we love. We trust them with our dreams, hopes and happiness and trust that they will keep all of it, and ultimately us, safe. When you give away that much power, you leave yourself vulnerable to be hurt, in ways that are unparalleled. And yet, most us us, long to love and love to love.
Sometimes, especially in this day and age, our world can seem to be a scary place. We are encouraged to toughen up, to be prepared, so that we can defend ourselves, against the many things that can attack us and is out to harm us. But in reality, fear and anger is pretty easy, it doesn't take much courage to be afraid. Love on the other hand, takes real bravery. So if you're a person who love, have loved or is able to love, when you get up in the morning and get ready to step into the world, remember how brave you are, and that real bravery comes from having the courage to love and to trust.
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
2015, The Prequel
It's a new year. It's 2016, to be precise. Last year was a really good year, as most years are. I travelled, ate great food, drank great wine, loved great people and moved into a new home. But if I would speculate on what I will remember as the most significant happenings, ten years from now, two things stand out.
First off, meditation. About a year ago, I took a real interest in meditation and started practicing. It's been a real journey and it has been much more rewarding than I first thought it would be. I believe meditation is a lifelong practice, it is not a skill you acquire but a skill that invites you to continuously keep exploring. The journey this far has taken me from ordering a book on Amazon to regular meditation and lectures at the local Buddhist temple. I've persevered through some of the longest minutes of my life, but also experienced what 9 hours of sitting meditation feels like. A year in and I already have a feeling meditation will be a trusted companion in life.
Secondly, I decided to pursue a new endeavor all together. Last fall, I took the first steps towards becoming a certified Domestic Violence Counselor. This journey was not necessarily planned, and it happened spontaneously, but while looking at volunteer options, I stumbled upon this opportunity and something about it just felt right. It took me a while to think it through, to make sure this was something I was ready to take on. After some soul-searching and self-evaluation, I filled out the application, and before I knew it I had done my interview, been accepted and found myself in a classroom doing my 40-hour California state mandated Domestic Violence training. I finished my training in December, just a few days before the Holidays. I met the most amazing people, fellow Domestic Violence Counselors in the making, and one couldn't help but be inspired and humbled. I left the training feeling slightly overwhelmed, a little bit nervous, but also empowered and really eager to go into the world and lend a helping hand.
So here we are, at the start of 2016. Seldom have I felt this antsy at the start of a year. Preparations were made, I'm all warmed up and much of what happened in 2015 is leading up to this moment. I'm in the starting blocks, ready to go. As I try to tell myself to stay calm and focused, I can't help but yearn for the sound of the starter pistol. And when it goes off, I will slowly and mindfully, with patience and compassion, walk to greet all that 2016 has to offer.
Two things were set in motion in 2015 that might potentially have a real impact on my future, for years to come.
Secondly, I decided to pursue a new endeavor all together. Last fall, I took the first steps towards becoming a certified Domestic Violence Counselor. This journey was not necessarily planned, and it happened spontaneously, but while looking at volunteer options, I stumbled upon this opportunity and something about it just felt right. It took me a while to think it through, to make sure this was something I was ready to take on. After some soul-searching and self-evaluation, I filled out the application, and before I knew it I had done my interview, been accepted and found myself in a classroom doing my 40-hour California state mandated Domestic Violence training. I finished my training in December, just a few days before the Holidays. I met the most amazing people, fellow Domestic Violence Counselors in the making, and one couldn't help but be inspired and humbled. I left the training feeling slightly overwhelmed, a little bit nervous, but also empowered and really eager to go into the world and lend a helping hand.
So here we are, at the start of 2016. Seldom have I felt this antsy at the start of a year. Preparations were made, I'm all warmed up and much of what happened in 2015 is leading up to this moment. I'm in the starting blocks, ready to go. As I try to tell myself to stay calm and focused, I can't help but yearn for the sound of the starter pistol. And when it goes off, I will slowly and mindfully, with patience and compassion, walk to greet all that 2016 has to offer.
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Stay kind, stay compassionate
One moment, you're living life, whether it be at a concert, enjoying a nice dinner or doing some shopping. Next moment, it all goes black.
Senseless.
When innocence is under attack, it's an attack on our humanity. Not just an attack on our way of living, or the way we have structured our society, but an attack on how we think and what we bear in our hearts. It threatens our safety, it creates fear and it feeds on our insecurities. It hardens us.
In a world that is more intertwined than ever, forces are at play, trying to polarize us and pitch us against each other. In these uncertain times, I believe there is only one distinction that matters. Every single person on this planet, who don't engage in terror, devastation or the desire to create fear, are on the same team. It doesn't matter where you're from, what you do or who you are, activist, Average Joe or refugee, we're all in this together, in the same boat, trying to navigate treacherous waters.
For our team to win, we need to remember to support each other, watch out for one another and to be each others cheerleaders. We need to open our hearts and minds, and trust our team members and allow them to play. We need to understand that we can help our team, but also that the team can help us.
When faced with something unfathomable, we often feel helpless. But we are not. We can stay kind, stay compassionate and stay optimistic. Remember our team's past victories and believe in our future successes.
Senseless.
When innocence is under attack, it's an attack on our humanity. Not just an attack on our way of living, or the way we have structured our society, but an attack on how we think and what we bear in our hearts. It threatens our safety, it creates fear and it feeds on our insecurities. It hardens us.
In a world that is more intertwined than ever, forces are at play, trying to polarize us and pitch us against each other. In these uncertain times, I believe there is only one distinction that matters. Every single person on this planet, who don't engage in terror, devastation or the desire to create fear, are on the same team. It doesn't matter where you're from, what you do or who you are, activist, Average Joe or refugee, we're all in this together, in the same boat, trying to navigate treacherous waters.
For our team to win, we need to remember to support each other, watch out for one another and to be each others cheerleaders. We need to open our hearts and minds, and trust our team members and allow them to play. We need to understand that we can help our team, but also that the team can help us.
When faced with something unfathomable, we often feel helpless. But we are not. We can stay kind, stay compassionate and stay optimistic. Remember our team's past victories and believe in our future successes.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
No complaining?
Today is October first, and my month long challenge of no complaining has come to an end. So, how did it go?
It went... ok..?
The challenge turned out to be different than I thought. In my mind, the goal was to find out how it would affect me, and my interactions with others, when removing all negative sentiments from my speech. I would be vigilant of what I said and therefore I would be able to notice the impact of complaining and whining.
Right off the bat, I had made the wrong assumption. I assumed I would be able to think before I speak, and that turned out to be false. It was much easier to be aware and mindful when faced with a conflict or when negative emotions were in play, may it be news media or being cut off in traffic. But in regular conversation, about mundane things, it was very difficult to watch every word coming our of my mouth. More often than not, I would realize I said something negative, or agreed with something negative, as I heard myself say it. And I'm absolutely certain a lot fell off the radar all together.
It was interesting to me, that I, personally, had a much more difficult time adjusting my habitual speech, than to adjust my expression of strong negative emotions/sensations. It was much easier to not complain about physical pain than to keep myself from complaining about the weather.
The biggest fail of the month happened early on, and it was the biggest fail because I was fully aware and I actively chose to complain/whine/bitch. My husband and I had planned a visit to a tannery in Santa Cruz, to buy leather for some craft projects. We decided to start the day with a few hours of hiking, then find a cute place to eat lunch, followed by shopping. The hike in Big Basin was great, but by the time we sat down for lunch, I was ravenous. A ravenous woman, waiting for food, in a small café in Santa Cruz could only end one way.
After expressing myself through some very negative body language, I turned to my husband and declared that I didn't care how I promised I wouldn't complain, I'm totally gonna. "How difficult can it be to make a panini? I know it's Santa Cruz, but come on! How do they survive as a business, they are sooooo slow! Look, they are just chatting amongst themselves and not even caring about their paying customers! Chipotle is down the street and we would've been fed by now!"
Eventually, I did get my food. It was delicious. Instant happy camper. Also, I was happy we chose to support a small local business. And I apologized to my husband, and the universe, for not having more patience.
One subject stood out, as a repeated source of whining. The weather. We've had a very warm month. We don't have AC, my allergies prevents us from leaving our windows open at night, and we've had quite a few days in the upper 90s (35C+). Sleeping was a struggle. I was better at not complaining about the heat itself, but I did a horrible job at not whining about being tired.
Moving forward, I will keep on trying to minimize unnecessary negativity. I will practice thinking before speaking. I will remind myself that whining will not change the weather, or make cheese melt faster. As long as I keep myself fed and well-rested, I believe I'm up for the challenge.
It went... ok..?
The challenge turned out to be different than I thought. In my mind, the goal was to find out how it would affect me, and my interactions with others, when removing all negative sentiments from my speech. I would be vigilant of what I said and therefore I would be able to notice the impact of complaining and whining.
Right off the bat, I had made the wrong assumption. I assumed I would be able to think before I speak, and that turned out to be false. It was much easier to be aware and mindful when faced with a conflict or when negative emotions were in play, may it be news media or being cut off in traffic. But in regular conversation, about mundane things, it was very difficult to watch every word coming our of my mouth. More often than not, I would realize I said something negative, or agreed with something negative, as I heard myself say it. And I'm absolutely certain a lot fell off the radar all together.
It was interesting to me, that I, personally, had a much more difficult time adjusting my habitual speech, than to adjust my expression of strong negative emotions/sensations. It was much easier to not complain about physical pain than to keep myself from complaining about the weather.
The biggest fail of the month happened early on, and it was the biggest fail because I was fully aware and I actively chose to complain/whine/bitch. My husband and I had planned a visit to a tannery in Santa Cruz, to buy leather for some craft projects. We decided to start the day with a few hours of hiking, then find a cute place to eat lunch, followed by shopping. The hike in Big Basin was great, but by the time we sat down for lunch, I was ravenous. A ravenous woman, waiting for food, in a small café in Santa Cruz could only end one way.
After expressing myself through some very negative body language, I turned to my husband and declared that I didn't care how I promised I wouldn't complain, I'm totally gonna. "How difficult can it be to make a panini? I know it's Santa Cruz, but come on! How do they survive as a business, they are sooooo slow! Look, they are just chatting amongst themselves and not even caring about their paying customers! Chipotle is down the street and we would've been fed by now!"
Eventually, I did get my food. It was delicious. Instant happy camper. Also, I was happy we chose to support a small local business. And I apologized to my husband, and the universe, for not having more patience.
One subject stood out, as a repeated source of whining. The weather. We've had a very warm month. We don't have AC, my allergies prevents us from leaving our windows open at night, and we've had quite a few days in the upper 90s (35C+). Sleeping was a struggle. I was better at not complaining about the heat itself, but I did a horrible job at not whining about being tired.
Moving forward, I will keep on trying to minimize unnecessary negativity. I will practice thinking before speaking. I will remind myself that whining will not change the weather, or make cheese melt faster. As long as I keep myself fed and well-rested, I believe I'm up for the challenge.
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Meditation
"Please share a few words about your experiences over the past 12 weeks"
This was the instruction, at the final class of my Meditation & Zen Buddhism Course.
My respons: "It has been a huge sigh of relief. I've been told, on many occasions, that I'm naive, I need to grow up and I need to realize that the world is a tough place, it's eat or be eaten. But here, I've realized that maybe I'm not crazy after all, my sunny outlook on life isn't something I need to rid myself of and it's perfectly ok to be happy and content.
Also, it has been great to be around people who are trying to solve their personal problems, and problems of the world, through kindness and compassion."
Let me take you back a few months. Last winter I started thinking about meditation, as a great tool to have in life's toolbox. My understanding of meditation was the ability to calm the mind and to be able to see things for what they truly are. I thought it might be a good thing to learn while life is good and easy, so that in the future, if I need it, I would already have a head start.
The step to explore meditation was not a very big one. My grandparents were both devout Buddhists and avid meditators, so even if I never took part, or knew much about it, Buddhism and meditation wasn't anything foreign or mystical.
After New Year, I started the exploration in the privacy of my home. I Googled books and articles and ended up reading a couple. A book that I found particularly approachable was "How to Meditate", by Pema Chödrön. But the more I read the more I understood the benefits of participating in guided meditation.
After some more research (i.e. Yelp) I found Chung Tai Zen Center in Sunnyvale, just a couple of miles from where I live. They offered free Meditation and Zen Buddhist classes throughout the year, different level courses, each lasting 12 weeks. Once a week, one hour of meditation, followed by one hour of Buddhist teachings.
In all honesty, I was somewhat hesitant at first. I wanted the one hour meditation, but wasn't sure about the one hour lecture that followed. Would they try to "recruit" me and rope me into their religion? But I was still curious, and also interested in how it all tied together. Curiosity won. And I'm so very glad it did. The lectures were interesting and inspiring in so many ways, and it gave depth to the meditation I wouldn't want to be without.
I ended up doing Level 1, and this week, I'm starting Level 2. I've found all of it very interesting, very thoughtful and sometimes very challenging. I expect I will want to share some of the things I've learned and some of my personal insights moving forward. But for now, I'll leave you with something inspired from a fellow meditator. This older gentleman presented himself as a devout Catholic, born, raised and practicing. When he is asked how he consolidates his Catholic beliefs with attending classes at the temple, he simply says "There is only one God, but Buddha is a great teacher".
To make his quote my own, "I don't believe there is a God/Gods, but I believe Buddha is a great teacher".
This was the instruction, at the final class of my Meditation & Zen Buddhism Course.
My respons: "It has been a huge sigh of relief. I've been told, on many occasions, that I'm naive, I need to grow up and I need to realize that the world is a tough place, it's eat or be eaten. But here, I've realized that maybe I'm not crazy after all, my sunny outlook on life isn't something I need to rid myself of and it's perfectly ok to be happy and content.
Also, it has been great to be around people who are trying to solve their personal problems, and problems of the world, through kindness and compassion."
Let me take you back a few months. Last winter I started thinking about meditation, as a great tool to have in life's toolbox. My understanding of meditation was the ability to calm the mind and to be able to see things for what they truly are. I thought it might be a good thing to learn while life is good and easy, so that in the future, if I need it, I would already have a head start.
The step to explore meditation was not a very big one. My grandparents were both devout Buddhists and avid meditators, so even if I never took part, or knew much about it, Buddhism and meditation wasn't anything foreign or mystical.
After New Year, I started the exploration in the privacy of my home. I Googled books and articles and ended up reading a couple. A book that I found particularly approachable was "How to Meditate", by Pema Chödrön. But the more I read the more I understood the benefits of participating in guided meditation.
After some more research (i.e. Yelp) I found Chung Tai Zen Center in Sunnyvale, just a couple of miles from where I live. They offered free Meditation and Zen Buddhist classes throughout the year, different level courses, each lasting 12 weeks. Once a week, one hour of meditation, followed by one hour of Buddhist teachings.
In all honesty, I was somewhat hesitant at first. I wanted the one hour meditation, but wasn't sure about the one hour lecture that followed. Would they try to "recruit" me and rope me into their religion? But I was still curious, and also interested in how it all tied together. Curiosity won. And I'm so very glad it did. The lectures were interesting and inspiring in so many ways, and it gave depth to the meditation I wouldn't want to be without.
I ended up doing Level 1, and this week, I'm starting Level 2. I've found all of it very interesting, very thoughtful and sometimes very challenging. I expect I will want to share some of the things I've learned and some of my personal insights moving forward. But for now, I'll leave you with something inspired from a fellow meditator. This older gentleman presented himself as a devout Catholic, born, raised and practicing. When he is asked how he consolidates his Catholic beliefs with attending classes at the temple, he simply says "There is only one God, but Buddha is a great teacher".
To make his quote my own, "I don't believe there is a God/Gods, but I believe Buddha is a great teacher".
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
No complaining, please!
Today is September 1st and summer has officially come to an end. A new season brings a great opportunity to take a refreshed look at things. So, in the spirit of self-revising, I will set myself a challenge, or will conduct an experiment rather. Over the next 30 days, there will be no complaining.
Let me elaborate. Over the next 30 days I will make every effort not to vocalize negative sentiments that will not lead to actual action. So, no complaining, no negative comments, no "policing", no whining, no arguing, no debating etc. You get the picture.
Why am I doing this? If you ask people who know me, I don't think they would describe me as a negative person or a pessimist. In my own self-assessment, I'm pretty easy going and generally happy. So this is not an intervention or an "attitude-detox". However, I've noticed how often negative comments creep into conversations, almost like fillers we don't really think about. I'm curious to know how much I do it myself.
I'm also hoping to discover in what ways it will affect my conversations when I become more aware of how I participate in them. This will make me much more mindful of the words I speak. And how will this affect my thoughts? Will I internalize and turn my mind into a cynical whiner, because I lack other outlets? Or will I let things go faster because I can't seek reinforcements?
Since this experiment came about out of curiosity, rather than needing a life-overhaul, and in keeping with a positive attitude, I will not be penalized if I slip, there will be no "swear-jar". I will allow myself to answer questions honestly and I will always have the option to say no, or to walk away. This is a "no-negativity" challenge, not a "always-positive" challenge. Also, I realize the subjective nature of defining "negative", but when in doubt, at least I will have to make a conscious decision.
If you and I have a conversation over the next 30 days, please help me and call me out if I slip. Please be patient if it takes me longer to respond than usual. In the best of worlds, these 30 days will not be much different from all other days. In the worst of worlds, these 30 days will be very quite days. But then again, maybe quite isn't always such a bad thing.
Let me elaborate. Over the next 30 days I will make every effort not to vocalize negative sentiments that will not lead to actual action. So, no complaining, no negative comments, no "policing", no whining, no arguing, no debating etc. You get the picture.
Why am I doing this? If you ask people who know me, I don't think they would describe me as a negative person or a pessimist. In my own self-assessment, I'm pretty easy going and generally happy. So this is not an intervention or an "attitude-detox". However, I've noticed how often negative comments creep into conversations, almost like fillers we don't really think about. I'm curious to know how much I do it myself.
I'm also hoping to discover in what ways it will affect my conversations when I become more aware of how I participate in them. This will make me much more mindful of the words I speak. And how will this affect my thoughts? Will I internalize and turn my mind into a cynical whiner, because I lack other outlets? Or will I let things go faster because I can't seek reinforcements?
Since this experiment came about out of curiosity, rather than needing a life-overhaul, and in keeping with a positive attitude, I will not be penalized if I slip, there will be no "swear-jar". I will allow myself to answer questions honestly and I will always have the option to say no, or to walk away. This is a "no-negativity" challenge, not a "always-positive" challenge. Also, I realize the subjective nature of defining "negative", but when in doubt, at least I will have to make a conscious decision.
If you and I have a conversation over the next 30 days, please help me and call me out if I slip. Please be patient if it takes me longer to respond than usual. In the best of worlds, these 30 days will not be much different from all other days. In the worst of worlds, these 30 days will be very quite days. But then again, maybe quite isn't always such a bad thing.
Friday, May 29, 2015
Four years of running
According to my Garmin, it's been four years since I logged my first regular run. Six months earlier, in November 2010, I had completed a 5 km race, but I found running so unbearable that I retired my running shoes directly after. But in May 2011, I gave it another go, and it stuck. Looking through my Garmin statistics, it would be fair to say that I've been a pretty regular runner ever since. Statistically, I've run an average of 1,8 times a week, each run averaging about 4,8 miles (7,8 km). Only three times, have I gone more than three weeks without running, with the longest break being 33 days.It's been an interesting journey, to say the least. Thinking back, there is so much to say, but some things stand out more than others.
First year
In one word: Struggle
Highest High: First time I ran 5 km/3.1 miles without walking.
Lowest Low: Running, in general
Biggest lesson learned: I revisited running because I had started exercising regularly, changed my diet and was working towards a healthier me. No matter how much I disliked it, running burns a lot of calories. To hold myself accountable, I signed up to different races. So, by using running as a weight-loss tool and being motivated by participating in races I made running work for me. Lesson learned, running deserves more than one shot. Giving it another chance (or a third, or a forth) might be the key to the puzzle.
Four 5 km races (road, mud and trail)
Two 10 km races (road)
Second year
In one word: Discovery
Highest High: Finishing my first marathon, California International Marathon, in December 2012.
Lowest Low: California International Marathon. The horrendous race conditions made me visit the darkest corners of my psyche. Until that race, I had no idea how miserable I could be or to what extent I could deplete my self-confidence. If you're curious to read more about the experience you can read my full race report: http://www.scandinasian.org/2012/12/the-marathon-survivor.html
Biggest lesson learned: I lost a lot of weight during my first year of running and I found myself having a much improved body to discover. While exploring the boundaries I soon discovered how running could bring the highest of highs, but it could also bring you right back down. I truly got to understand and learn that running is as much a mental challenge as it is a physical one.
One 5 km race (road)
Two 10 km races (road)
One sprint triathlon
Two half-marathons (road)
One marathon (road)
Third year
In one word: Tired
Highest High: Running through the empty streets of San Francisco's China Town, one rainy morning, before the daily hustle and bustle.
Lowest Low: The swim leg of Silicon Valley International Triathlon. Due to the Californian draught, a controlled lake swim in pleasant temperatures got moved, and turned into a foggy and freezing (56F/13C) ocean swim in Half Moon Bay.
Biggest lesson learned: After two years of achieving new heights and discovering new abilities, with the culmination in finishing my first marathon, I was tired. I stopped seeing improvements, I became slower and I had to learn how to be ok with it. But I did learn, that everything has its time and place. I learned that my running would never be sustainable if it was only driven by results.
One 5 km race (road)
Two 10 km races (road)
One half-marathon (road)
One olympic distance triathlon
Fourth year
In one word: Reliable
Highest High: My husband's surprise during Chicago Marathon. Unbeknown to me, my husband had asked some friends and family members to record short messages. These messages were then added to my playlist and throughout the race I was surprised by the voices and encouraging words from people who cared for me. The messages had me smiling, crying, laughing and snorting out loud. The support was overwhelming and it was the most thoughtful and heartwarming gift.
Lowest Low: Underestimating a trail half-marathon. To mix things up during marathon training, my husband and I decided to run a trail half. Having run longer than 13.1 miles/ 21 km several times in training, I got cocky. Too hot and too steep became a miserable reminder that under any circumstance, one should always respect the distance!
Biggest lesson learned: Running is truly an exercise in patience. After four years, I finally feel at peace with my running. I don't necessarily love it, but I wouldn't want to be without it. Lesson learned, running can be a sport and a challenge, but it can also be a comfort and a companion.
Three 10 km races (road, trail)
Two half-marathons (trail)
One marathon (road)
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Home is where my stuff is
Home. What is home? About one month ago my husband and I left our old home for our new home. My home is now in Sunnyvale. But I also go home to Sweden every year, and I stay for a few weeks before I return home to California.
My childhood home is still very much my home, until I stay there for an extended period of time and eventually I will get home sick. In many ways my husband is my home, but when we leave our home to visit other places, I feel more like a girl traveling with her favorite teddy, than a snail carrying its home on its back. Superficially, home can be where I sleep that night, but that home is within a certain context such as "go home to the hotel".
As significant as one's home is, it also abruptly changes nature as soon as one decides to leave. I'm currently residing in my twelfth home, seventh since moving away from my parents. Some of my former homes are more sentimental to me than others, but no place retained the value it once had.
While packing and unpacking our newest home, it got me thinking. I think my true home is were my stuff is. It's not as superficial as it sounds. Because it's not just stuff, it's the fact that my stuff exist because I acquired every singel one of them (by myself or by proxy). Also, I've made deliberate decisions on where I've placed them. Everything I own is where it is because I put it there, so nothing can really ever be out of place. And I think that's the answer to the question. Home is a place where nothing is out of place. It's a place were things are exactly how you decided for them to be. Home is a place where nothing can be wrong, it is always right, because it is yours.
Friday, March 13, 2015
A Marathon Time-Capsule
I decided to go through my drafts of blog posts that never came to fruition. I found this gem from December 2012, two days after I finished my first marathon. I eventually wrote, and posted, another text, but this must have been my first attempt at jolting down my feelings, as this draft was created two days earlier.
"Running is like the frenemy who keeps inviting you to fabulous parties, where all her gorgeous friends are perfect. They all smile at you but you can hear them snicker behind your back, and it is obviously to everyone that you are out of place, self-conscious and trying too hard. You hate it, but you still yearn for the invitation and you always end up going, because at the end of the day she's so alluring and fascinating, and you just want fit in. If she took the time to get to know you, she would see how much you try, how much you care and maybe, just maybe, she will stop mocking of you and stop putting you through hell.
I rather loose another 50 lbs than run another marathon"
There you have it, my mental state, two days after my first marathon. By the sound of it, I felt misunderstood, my feelings were hurt and my ego was humiliated. But as it turned out, I lied. I did not loose another 50 lbs, but two years later, I did run another marathon.
My relationship with running has always been a tentative one. Most days a tedious battle, but some days encouraged by measurable progress and occasional achievements. The only way I knew how to approach running was to see it as a tool, as means to and end. First it was a weight-loss tool, then a tool for personal achievements. I used it as a tool to stay healthy and as a tool to maintain fitness. All of these reasons were good reasons, but throughout it all, I never actually enjoyed the activity of running much. The "Runner's High" I kept hearing about never happened to me, not once, in years of running.
But somewhere along the way, things started to shift. I'm not entirely sure when, were, how or why, but running stopped being such a struggle. At some point, running turned from being a chore, into something I could get myself to do, on days I didn't feel like doing anything at all. For the first time since I started pursuing this endeavor, it's something I can trust, something I can rely on and something that gives more than it takes. I'm no longer chasing the runner's high, I'm perfectly happy and content with the runner's satisfaction.
"Running is like the frenemy who keeps inviting you to fabulous parties, where all her gorgeous friends are perfect. They all smile at you but you can hear them snicker behind your back, and it is obviously to everyone that you are out of place, self-conscious and trying too hard. You hate it, but you still yearn for the invitation and you always end up going, because at the end of the day she's so alluring and fascinating, and you just want fit in. If she took the time to get to know you, she would see how much you try, how much you care and maybe, just maybe, she will stop mocking of you and stop putting you through hell.
I rather loose another 50 lbs than run another marathon"
There you have it, my mental state, two days after my first marathon. By the sound of it, I felt misunderstood, my feelings were hurt and my ego was humiliated. But as it turned out, I lied. I did not loose another 50 lbs, but two years later, I did run another marathon.
My relationship with running has always been a tentative one. Most days a tedious battle, but some days encouraged by measurable progress and occasional achievements. The only way I knew how to approach running was to see it as a tool, as means to and end. First it was a weight-loss tool, then a tool for personal achievements. I used it as a tool to stay healthy and as a tool to maintain fitness. All of these reasons were good reasons, but throughout it all, I never actually enjoyed the activity of running much. The "Runner's High" I kept hearing about never happened to me, not once, in years of running.
But somewhere along the way, things started to shift. I'm not entirely sure when, were, how or why, but running stopped being such a struggle. At some point, running turned from being a chore, into something I could get myself to do, on days I didn't feel like doing anything at all. For the first time since I started pursuing this endeavor, it's something I can trust, something I can rely on and something that gives more than it takes. I'm no longer chasing the runner's high, I'm perfectly happy and content with the runner's satisfaction.
Monday, February 23, 2015
Life of a homemaker
So... what do you do all day?
I'm a 32 year old housewife, without kids. This has been my life for the past five years, and before that, I spent a year being a housegirlfriend. Before that, I worked with export sales as a key account manager, and before that I worked as an executive assistant. My professional life was filled with challenges and thrilling adventures. It took me around the world and I got to experience many different cultures and I got to meet the most fascinating people. To me, I was given a lifetime of stories within the short years I was a part of the working population. But despite all that, it is my current life, as a homemaker without kids, that makes people wonder and ask questions.
So... what do I do all day?
One answer could be, I don't do much. Which would be accurate. But another answer could be, I do what I want. Also true. I could say that I do laundry, clean, buy groceries and cook. I could continue by saying that I like shopping, love my 6 hour "lunches" and endless phone calls. But I would also want to add that I actually spend most of my time running/at the gym/doing yoga/meditating and eating organic produce. When I'm not gaming, watching tv or enjoying fast food, that is. Oh, I almost forgot, I also spend significant amount of time sewing, crocheting, drawing and tending to hummingbirds and my occasional plants.
So many things to do... and enough time to do it!
Maybe that's why my answers often feel so inadequate. I can't say what I do all day, because one day might look completely unlike the other. Or it might look exactly like the previous day, but not the next.
One thing I plan to spend more time doing is blogging. So expect to see more frequent posts and expect them to be about things I care about, as well as things I enjoy, whether it be politics, running, gaming or crafts. If you're curious, maybe you'll get to know this particular homemaker and what I do all day.
(If you enjoy a narrative in pictures, you can find me on Instragram, user: scandinasian)
(If you enjoy a narrative in pictures, you can find me on Instragram, user: scandinasian)
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Have you ever been desperate?
Let me start by posing a questions:
What was your most desperate moment?
The Swedish general election is only days away. While the election prompted this blog post, the issue I'm addressing is far more important than swaying votes and it stretches far beyond the borders of Sweden. I'm talking about relocation, when a person leaves one place for another, in hope for a better future. Some move to another city hoping for a better job. Some move to another country hoping for better opportunities. And some move wherever they can, hoping to find safety and security. The first we call a brave go-getter, the second we know as an immigrant and the third is a refugee.
If I were to answer my own question, my most desperate moment is frankly not very desperate at all. Looking at Maslow's hierarchy of needs (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maslow's_hierarchy_of_needs) I've never had to worry about the bottom two tiers, not really. I can't even begin to phantom what it would be like to live through some of the horrendous situations some people deal with every day. For this I'm indescribably grateful.
I have been very fortunate, very lucky. Cause that's what it seems to boil down to, luck. Personally, I didn't do anything in particular to deserve the good fortune in which I have lived. I was simply born. Born by parents who had the privilege of being able to choose, and to carve out a life with the aspiration of personal fulfillment rather than survival. Not to say I've never been challenged or had to fight, but in the big scheme of things, have I ever really been scared for my life, have I ever had to fight for my survival, have I ever really suffered?
In a perfect world, good fortune would breed gratitude and humility. While it does for some, it also seems to be taken for grated by us who are so lucky. But even worse, it seems to frequently breed a sense of entitlement, as if it's our given right to live with certain privileges while denying others the same rights.
Let me follow my initial question with the following two:
What would you do for the health and safety of yourself and your loved ones?
Why do we assume our own intentions and actions would be more noble than others'?
When listening to the current debate in Sweden (and Europe), much of the discussion is centered around immigrants and refugees. The picture that is painted is one of nondescript immigrants, from poor countries, flooding our pristine streets, soliciting our people at every corner, without any desire beyond asking us for handouts, whether it be through social benefits or a paper cup on the sidewalk. But why are immigrants and refugees perceived as such a threat? There are two popular opinions in particular I would like to address:
"They should be grateful they get to come to our country."
First of all, why do we assume they're not? Just because they haven't learnt our language yet? And who should really be grateful? They who were able to remove themselves from their suffering, or us who get to live the lives we choose, with our loved ones, at the place we call home?
"We need to take care of our own before we can take care of others."
In this sentence, the only thing that separates "us" from "them" is on which side of the geographical border one is born. However, it is a personal choice when defining that border. City border, regional border, national border, continental border etc. The narrower the definition, the more "others" there will be and the less amount of "our own" there is to look out for, and vice versa. So, who do you choose to be, exclusive or inclusive?
It is important to remember that our ability to choose is a privilege, and a responsibility. It's also a direct reflection of our good fortune. There are many choices to be made, whether it be choosing a career, a life partner, a political representative or a conviction. But the choice is ours, and we should take great care when making a decision.
My grandmother was forced out of China, and became an immigrant in Taiwan. My mother left Taiwan, and became an immigrant in Sweden. I left Sweden and am currently an immigrant in the United States. My family history has played a huge part in how I view the world and my understanding of how intimately connected we all are. I've been fortunate. There are many things in the world that can, justifiably, turn us into reserved, skeptical pessimists, sometimes even hateful. But I firmly believe every person choose their attitude and their outlook on life. Some things I understand, some I don't. When I don't, I choose to trust people and their intentions, trust that we're not all that different, that they simply want what I want, which is to be happy, healthy, respected and loved.
What was your most desperate moment?
The Swedish general election is only days away. While the election prompted this blog post, the issue I'm addressing is far more important than swaying votes and it stretches far beyond the borders of Sweden. I'm talking about relocation, when a person leaves one place for another, in hope for a better future. Some move to another city hoping for a better job. Some move to another country hoping for better opportunities. And some move wherever they can, hoping to find safety and security. The first we call a brave go-getter, the second we know as an immigrant and the third is a refugee.
If I were to answer my own question, my most desperate moment is frankly not very desperate at all. Looking at Maslow's hierarchy of needs (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maslow's_hierarchy_of_needs) I've never had to worry about the bottom two tiers, not really. I can't even begin to phantom what it would be like to live through some of the horrendous situations some people deal with every day. For this I'm indescribably grateful.
I have been very fortunate, very lucky. Cause that's what it seems to boil down to, luck. Personally, I didn't do anything in particular to deserve the good fortune in which I have lived. I was simply born. Born by parents who had the privilege of being able to choose, and to carve out a life with the aspiration of personal fulfillment rather than survival. Not to say I've never been challenged or had to fight, but in the big scheme of things, have I ever really been scared for my life, have I ever had to fight for my survival, have I ever really suffered?
In a perfect world, good fortune would breed gratitude and humility. While it does for some, it also seems to be taken for grated by us who are so lucky. But even worse, it seems to frequently breed a sense of entitlement, as if it's our given right to live with certain privileges while denying others the same rights.
Let me follow my initial question with the following two:
What would you do for the health and safety of yourself and your loved ones?
Why do we assume our own intentions and actions would be more noble than others'?
When listening to the current debate in Sweden (and Europe), much of the discussion is centered around immigrants and refugees. The picture that is painted is one of nondescript immigrants, from poor countries, flooding our pristine streets, soliciting our people at every corner, without any desire beyond asking us for handouts, whether it be through social benefits or a paper cup on the sidewalk. But why are immigrants and refugees perceived as such a threat? There are two popular opinions in particular I would like to address:
"They should be grateful they get to come to our country."
First of all, why do we assume they're not? Just because they haven't learnt our language yet? And who should really be grateful? They who were able to remove themselves from their suffering, or us who get to live the lives we choose, with our loved ones, at the place we call home?
"We need to take care of our own before we can take care of others."
In this sentence, the only thing that separates "us" from "them" is on which side of the geographical border one is born. However, it is a personal choice when defining that border. City border, regional border, national border, continental border etc. The narrower the definition, the more "others" there will be and the less amount of "our own" there is to look out for, and vice versa. So, who do you choose to be, exclusive or inclusive?
It is important to remember that our ability to choose is a privilege, and a responsibility. It's also a direct reflection of our good fortune. There are many choices to be made, whether it be choosing a career, a life partner, a political representative or a conviction. But the choice is ours, and we should take great care when making a decision.
My grandmother was forced out of China, and became an immigrant in Taiwan. My mother left Taiwan, and became an immigrant in Sweden. I left Sweden and am currently an immigrant in the United States. My family history has played a huge part in how I view the world and my understanding of how intimately connected we all are. I've been fortunate. There are many things in the world that can, justifiably, turn us into reserved, skeptical pessimists, sometimes even hateful. But I firmly believe every person choose their attitude and their outlook on life. Some things I understand, some I don't. When I don't, I choose to trust people and their intentions, trust that we're not all that different, that they simply want what I want, which is to be happy, healthy, respected and loved.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Can we claim ignorance?
I feel troubled. Uneasy. Worried. Something is going on in the world...
When looking back at historical events, we sometimes find ourselves dumbfounded at how things were allowed to play out, without anyone intervening. We shake our heads at people's inability to separate facts from propaganda and at how indifferent many seemed to be. How could they not have cared?
The world was a very different place not long ago. When the morning paper was the only source of information about current affairs. One would consult the family encyclopedia or head to the library for in depth knowledge. During time of war, families would gather around the radio to get the latest update on how events were unfolding. Photos from around the world had to be developed, mailed, printed, published and distributed before it reached the general public. There was very little information to be had and the power to decide what would be communicated lied in the hands of very few.
We live in a different era now. An era of instantaneous and unlimited information exchange. Never has it been this easy. Multiple connections to the world, at our finger tips. Regardless if your interest lies in Sgt. Bowe Bergdahl's release or in Rihanna's CFDA dress, whatever you want to know more about, it's just a few seconds away. Same goes for our ability to communicate our thoughts, photos, music, videos, opinions etc. We are free to share it all with the world, to our hearts content.
Imagine, for a second, if the underground resistance of WWII had cellphones, GPS and instant messaging. Imagine if the protesters at Tiananmen Square could upload the image of "The Tank Man" onto Instagram. Imagine if Gandhi tweeted. Imagine if we had Facebook during 9/11.
It's been about two weeks since the people of the European Union voted on who they want to represent them in the European Parliament for the next five years to come. The European people have spoken and what they said should be taken very seriously. I'm not going to go into detail, it's enough to know that nationalistic thoughts, people and policies not only gained popularity and power in most of the European Countries, these agendas came out as winners in France (Front National), United Kingdom (UK Independence Party) and Denmark (Danish People's Party). To add the the picture, fully-fledged neo-Nazis from Germany, Greece and Hungary have been elected into the parliament as well.
Meanwhile, at Europe's Eastern border, Vladimir Putin and his Russia are up to no good. Whatever plan he's concocting, it's pretty safe to say it's not for the love of peace, freedom and respect of sovereign states and people.
While these are new developments, there is an endless amount of ongoing conflicts in the world, over resources, power and religion. What if all these conflicts eventually boil down to one cataclysmic event? Will we say that we didn't see it coming? Can we really claim ignorance in this day and age?
Today, this specific post is not an attempt to try and convince people that inclusiveness, tolerance and differences are something valuable and beautiful. I'm addressing you who are already convinced. Many will say that the world has always had conflicts and it's no different today. Many will also claim that the new uprising of racial alienation is just a minority of loud people making a lot of noise, that the majority of people are still progressive and proponents of a multicultural world. They might be right. I hope they are right. But just in case, let's prove that we can be loud too. We who embrace progress, include differences in our perfect view of the future and who value respect and freedom over power and control. I ask you to be fearful of what might happen but fearless in the debate.
When looking back at historical events, we sometimes find ourselves dumbfounded at how things were allowed to play out, without anyone intervening. We shake our heads at people's inability to separate facts from propaganda and at how indifferent many seemed to be. How could they not have cared?
The world was a very different place not long ago. When the morning paper was the only source of information about current affairs. One would consult the family encyclopedia or head to the library for in depth knowledge. During time of war, families would gather around the radio to get the latest update on how events were unfolding. Photos from around the world had to be developed, mailed, printed, published and distributed before it reached the general public. There was very little information to be had and the power to decide what would be communicated lied in the hands of very few.
We live in a different era now. An era of instantaneous and unlimited information exchange. Never has it been this easy. Multiple connections to the world, at our finger tips. Regardless if your interest lies in Sgt. Bowe Bergdahl's release or in Rihanna's CFDA dress, whatever you want to know more about, it's just a few seconds away. Same goes for our ability to communicate our thoughts, photos, music, videos, opinions etc. We are free to share it all with the world, to our hearts content.
Imagine, for a second, if the underground resistance of WWII had cellphones, GPS and instant messaging. Imagine if the protesters at Tiananmen Square could upload the image of "The Tank Man" onto Instagram. Imagine if Gandhi tweeted. Imagine if we had Facebook during 9/11.
It's been about two weeks since the people of the European Union voted on who they want to represent them in the European Parliament for the next five years to come. The European people have spoken and what they said should be taken very seriously. I'm not going to go into detail, it's enough to know that nationalistic thoughts, people and policies not only gained popularity and power in most of the European Countries, these agendas came out as winners in France (Front National), United Kingdom (UK Independence Party) and Denmark (Danish People's Party). To add the the picture, fully-fledged neo-Nazis from Germany, Greece and Hungary have been elected into the parliament as well.
Meanwhile, at Europe's Eastern border, Vladimir Putin and his Russia are up to no good. Whatever plan he's concocting, it's pretty safe to say it's not for the love of peace, freedom and respect of sovereign states and people.
While these are new developments, there is an endless amount of ongoing conflicts in the world, over resources, power and religion. What if all these conflicts eventually boil down to one cataclysmic event? Will we say that we didn't see it coming? Can we really claim ignorance in this day and age?
Today, this specific post is not an attempt to try and convince people that inclusiveness, tolerance and differences are something valuable and beautiful. I'm addressing you who are already convinced. Many will say that the world has always had conflicts and it's no different today. Many will also claim that the new uprising of racial alienation is just a minority of loud people making a lot of noise, that the majority of people are still progressive and proponents of a multicultural world. They might be right. I hope they are right. But just in case, let's prove that we can be loud too. We who embrace progress, include differences in our perfect view of the future and who value respect and freedom over power and control. I ask you to be fearful of what might happen but fearless in the debate.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Bobette The Builder
I live in a 1 bedroom apartment, I have limited amount of storage, I don't like things (when in doubt, throw it out!) and I have a lot of hobbies. The consequence of this is that I try to make do with very little. It applies to everything from cooking with as few gadgets and appliances as possible, to using my kitchen table for sewing, baking, painting, jigsaw puzzling and, oh yes, eating.
A few months ago I decided to start growing a few potted herbs on my patio. The patio is shaded all day, with the exception of a 2 hour window in one of the corners. I wasn't allowed to put any pots on top of the patio walls (which I did at first until it landed me a notice from the leasing office), so I needed a plant stand or a work bench of sort. After lots and lots of research, I couldn't find any with the dimensions I wanted, at least not without spending hundreds of dollars. I thought to myself, "maybe I should build one".
I stopped researching for products and started researching for easy DIY-projects. To my dismay, amongst the plethora of DIY plant stand manuals out there, they all required power-tools and a decent amount of workspace, of which I have none. By this point, my mind was set on building a plant stand of my own so I decided to wing it. How difficult could it be?
After browsing my local Home Depot, for what felt like hours, I had developed a plan, picked my products and I was ready to get started. After a few days work, this is what I ended up with. A plant stand I'm proud to call my own:
A few months ago I decided to start growing a few potted herbs on my patio. The patio is shaded all day, with the exception of a 2 hour window in one of the corners. I wasn't allowed to put any pots on top of the patio walls (which I did at first until it landed me a notice from the leasing office), so I needed a plant stand or a work bench of sort. After lots and lots of research, I couldn't find any with the dimensions I wanted, at least not without spending hundreds of dollars. I thought to myself, "maybe I should build one".
I stopped researching for products and started researching for easy DIY-projects. To my dismay, amongst the plethora of DIY plant stand manuals out there, they all required power-tools and a decent amount of workspace, of which I have none. By this point, my mind was set on building a plant stand of my own so I decided to wing it. How difficult could it be?
After browsing my local Home Depot, for what felt like hours, I had developed a plan, picked my products and I was ready to get started. After a few days work, this is what I ended up with. A plant stand I'm proud to call my own:
If you would like to build your own or you're just curious how this came to be, please keep reading.
When starting this project I planned on using just a hammer and a folding saw as far as tools go. So when choosing lumber I had to consider what would be sturdy enough yet feasible to saw through. I also wanted to saw as little as possible and spend as little money as possible. I settled on three 2x3 from which I could get two 44" pieces (frame, long side), four 32" pieces (legs), three 14" pieces (support for the lattice) and later on in the process I discovered I needed an additional two 8" pieces (leg braces). For the lattice, I bought a 12 pack of grade stakes (9/16" x 2-3/8" x 23-1/2"), of which I used eight stakes.
After all the pieces were cut, I assembled the frame and lattice with nails. As I moved on to attach the legs to the frame, I decided to save my neighbors from the excessive noise of hammering and went back to Home Depot and bought a couple of corner braces. After a couple of attempts at screwing nails directly into the wood with a screw driver, my hands were rubbed raw and I decided to pre-drill holes. I used the drill attachment to my screw driver and went at it.
When the legs were attached I noticed how much sturdier the table would be if I attached braces between the legs on the short ends. Here is where the two 8" pieces came into play. I attached them a few inches of the ground with a couple of small corner braces. After all the pieces fell into place, the only thing left was painting. I wanted my bench to be bright yellow, so it took two cans of spray paint, with a drying in between.
All in all, this project took me a couple of days to complete. I allowed a full day of drying between the two coats of paint. Also, I had to rest my hands to avoid blisters and I had to give my back and legs regular breaks from all the awkward contortions. It's the price you pay for not using a single power tool and for using your floor as a work bench. But it can be done! However, if you have access to (or decide to buy) power tools, this plant stand can be put together in a couple of hours, tops!
This was a fun project, it turned out exactly as I wanted it to and it ended up costing me about 80 dollars (the spray paint ate up more than half of the budget). I've had the plant stand on my patio for a couple of months now. It's been through pouring rain as well as scorching 95 degrees. It's still sturdy and it still looks great!
My "workshop"
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Brev till Farmor
Kära farmor, min pappas mamma
Tack för allt som du har gjort
Givit kärlek, goda råd, alltid, med detsamma
Ända sen första gången jag stod vid din port.
När jag var liten la du på minnet vad jag tyckte om
Oavsett om det var betydelsefullt eller ej
Därför åt vi ofta köttfärsås när vi kom
Och alltid rågbröd med gurka och pastej
När jag var tonåring satt jag en gång vid ditt bord
Och grät med ett brustet hjärta
Du lyssnade, tog mig på allvar och med väl valda ord
Lugnade du min själ och lindrade min smärta
Några år senare fick du ett nytt besök
Av fru Thuresson, inte längre fröken Åstrand
Klockan 11.00 firade vi med vin i ditt kök
På våran glädje kunde inte läggas några band
Sista gången vi sågs och kramades hej då
Hade jag ingen tanke på plats eller tid
Bara att det roligt att umgås och så
Att ha dig alldeles nära bredvid
Ja du, kära farmor, min pappas mamma
Det har blivit dags att skiljas åt ett litet tag
Utan dig hade jag inte blivit densamma
Jag minns, saknar och tackar dig idag.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Lobotomy through endurance
Today marks the three year anniversary of my first visit to the gym, which was also the first day of my healthier life. While a lot has changed since, I thought this would be a great opportunity to focus on the unexpected changes that I didn't notice immediately, but has been just as rewarding, if not more so, than the physical changes.
I'm happy with who I am and who I've turned out to be. But I would be lying if I said there are no room for improvements. Generally, there are three area I need to work at. I'm notoriously impatient, I hate asking for help (so I don't) and I 'm unreasonably competitive. I've struggled with these three personality traits since I was a child. I've always been aware, but have never found good tools to modify these behaviors. Little did I know that one decision to change one thing in my life would have such a ripple effect that it would change what I thought was unchangeable. In the pursuit of a healthier life with a stronger heart, stronger lungs and weight-loss I decided to start running.
Endurance training is not an intuitive choice for an impatient person. Especially when the first slow jog got me about half a lap around a track (200m) before my lungs started burning. Let me tell you, going from 200m to running a full marathon was a sloooooow process. But I suspect that because running was so far out of my comfort zone, every mile added or second shaved felt like a victory, I got distracted by the fact that the process took forever. It wasn't until I decided to run a marathon I realized how patience and endurance go hand in hand. There is only one way to prepare for a marathon. Run. Run a lot. But thoughtfully. Not too fast and not too slow. Keep a steady pace and trust that you will eventually get where you need to go. Diligently and patiently. I'm pretty sure I don't need to explain how this lesson in patience applies to a lot of different aspects of life.
About one year into running, before the marathon and the lessons I learnt through the training, I lost momentum and got impatient. It only took one single impatient workout to bust my knee. In trying to find out what had happened and what I did wrong, I realized how little I knew about running and proper training. I started reading articles, subscribing to magazines and talking to others. I started to ask people for advice. I started to ask them for help. I didn't even realize it at the time, I was just talking to people about running. Then it dawned on me, maybe that is all asking for help really is, a conversation between people where knowledge and experiences are shared.
I'm not cured from all my ailments yet, but I'm seeing progress. The biggest improvement I've seen is with my competitiveness. Maybe because this has been my biggest issue and I've never found a good outlet for it. While being impatient has pushed me to work harder to get places faster and my unwillingness to ask for help has forced me at times to be self-sufficient, being competitive has brought me very little joy. I've been know to yell at people after a night of friendly bowling. I grew up treating board games like a full-contact sport and I still don't do game nights cause I can't trust my reactions.
But no matter how competitive I am, needless to say, I've never been under the illusion that I will win at an endurance event. Given my training background, I have always aimed at the middle of the pack, wanting to be an average runner. That, in it self, is a far cry from how I usually set my goals. On top of it all, I haven't always been successful at reaching my goal of mediocracy. Maybe I would have faired better if I stuck to one specifik distance, but instead I've been looking for new challenges and the bigger the challenge, the fiercer the competition. Which has brought me to where I am right now, three years into my new life.
Three month from now I'm registered to participate in Silicon Valley International Triathlon. A 1500 m (0.93 mi) swim followed by 40 km cycling (25 mi) finishing with a 10 km (6.2 mi) run. I feel relatively comfortable with the distances, and up until a few weeks ago, I didn't think much about the other participants. But one day, out of curiosity, I checked last year's results and quickly realized that I'm very likely to finish last in my age group. I'm not saying it to fish for encouragement or to downplay myself. It is the reality of things. I need to improve my personal best in all three disciplines in order to have a shot at anything else than finishing last. So that's my new goal. I'm training to not finish last. But if I indeed finish last, I will train to do so with the smallest margin possible. I feel that I can confidently say, I participate in endurance competitions to test my own abilities, not for the significance of winning.
When I started this journey three years ago, my goal was not to loose a lot of weight or to turn myself into an endurance athlete. I simply wanted to feel healthier, inside and out. So I stepped onto an elliptical, took a look at what I was eating and things slowly but surely moved along. I had no idea what consequences it would have. Good thing I didn't, cause I would have been impatient about getting to where I am today. Instead I will patiently await what lays ahead, meanwhile enjoy having meaningful conversations and for the first time truly understand that competitors come and go, while your own efforts and achievement are yours to keep forever.
PS. Got the results from my latest cholesterol and blood sugar tests. I did change, significantly, inside and out!
I'm happy with who I am and who I've turned out to be. But I would be lying if I said there are no room for improvements. Generally, there are three area I need to work at. I'm notoriously impatient, I hate asking for help (so I don't) and I 'm unreasonably competitive. I've struggled with these three personality traits since I was a child. I've always been aware, but have never found good tools to modify these behaviors. Little did I know that one decision to change one thing in my life would have such a ripple effect that it would change what I thought was unchangeable. In the pursuit of a healthier life with a stronger heart, stronger lungs and weight-loss I decided to start running.
Endurance training is not an intuitive choice for an impatient person. Especially when the first slow jog got me about half a lap around a track (200m) before my lungs started burning. Let me tell you, going from 200m to running a full marathon was a sloooooow process. But I suspect that because running was so far out of my comfort zone, every mile added or second shaved felt like a victory, I got distracted by the fact that the process took forever. It wasn't until I decided to run a marathon I realized how patience and endurance go hand in hand. There is only one way to prepare for a marathon. Run. Run a lot. But thoughtfully. Not too fast and not too slow. Keep a steady pace and trust that you will eventually get where you need to go. Diligently and patiently. I'm pretty sure I don't need to explain how this lesson in patience applies to a lot of different aspects of life.
About one year into running, before the marathon and the lessons I learnt through the training, I lost momentum and got impatient. It only took one single impatient workout to bust my knee. In trying to find out what had happened and what I did wrong, I realized how little I knew about running and proper training. I started reading articles, subscribing to magazines and talking to others. I started to ask people for advice. I started to ask them for help. I didn't even realize it at the time, I was just talking to people about running. Then it dawned on me, maybe that is all asking for help really is, a conversation between people where knowledge and experiences are shared.
I'm not cured from all my ailments yet, but I'm seeing progress. The biggest improvement I've seen is with my competitiveness. Maybe because this has been my biggest issue and I've never found a good outlet for it. While being impatient has pushed me to work harder to get places faster and my unwillingness to ask for help has forced me at times to be self-sufficient, being competitive has brought me very little joy. I've been know to yell at people after a night of friendly bowling. I grew up treating board games like a full-contact sport and I still don't do game nights cause I can't trust my reactions.
But no matter how competitive I am, needless to say, I've never been under the illusion that I will win at an endurance event. Given my training background, I have always aimed at the middle of the pack, wanting to be an average runner. That, in it self, is a far cry from how I usually set my goals. On top of it all, I haven't always been successful at reaching my goal of mediocracy. Maybe I would have faired better if I stuck to one specifik distance, but instead I've been looking for new challenges and the bigger the challenge, the fiercer the competition. Which has brought me to where I am right now, three years into my new life.
Three month from now I'm registered to participate in Silicon Valley International Triathlon. A 1500 m (0.93 mi) swim followed by 40 km cycling (25 mi) finishing with a 10 km (6.2 mi) run. I feel relatively comfortable with the distances, and up until a few weeks ago, I didn't think much about the other participants. But one day, out of curiosity, I checked last year's results and quickly realized that I'm very likely to finish last in my age group. I'm not saying it to fish for encouragement or to downplay myself. It is the reality of things. I need to improve my personal best in all three disciplines in order to have a shot at anything else than finishing last. So that's my new goal. I'm training to not finish last. But if I indeed finish last, I will train to do so with the smallest margin possible. I feel that I can confidently say, I participate in endurance competitions to test my own abilities, not for the significance of winning.
When I started this journey three years ago, my goal was not to loose a lot of weight or to turn myself into an endurance athlete. I simply wanted to feel healthier, inside and out. So I stepped onto an elliptical, took a look at what I was eating and things slowly but surely moved along. I had no idea what consequences it would have. Good thing I didn't, cause I would have been impatient about getting to where I am today. Instead I will patiently await what lays ahead, meanwhile enjoy having meaningful conversations and for the first time truly understand that competitors come and go, while your own efforts and achievement are yours to keep forever.
PS. Got the results from my latest cholesterol and blood sugar tests. I did change, significantly, inside and out!
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Make reasonable choices
Live life to the fullest! Seize the Day! Don't let a good opportunity pass you by! Live life without regrets! Reach your fullest potential!
It's a new year. For many, it's an opportunity to start with a clean slate and to begin molding a better and improved version of themselves. With so many exclamation marks to guide us along the way, one would have to be hyper vigilant and flawlessly self-aware to make the right choices and to act accordingly to reflect our willingness to be our best selves, to reach our fullest potential.
I don't know about you, but to me, it's too much pressure. Also, it's unreasonable to think we can be honestly self-reflective and perfect judges at any given situation. And if anything less than perfection is considered a failure, no wonder people give up on their new year's resolutions before end of January!
This got me thinking about Will Ferrell. Specifically, Will Ferrell in the movie "The Internship". Not a profound movie by any means, but in the movie, Will Ferrell plays a character with a big neck tattoo saying "Make Reasonable Choices".
I think this might be the way to go. Not perfect choices, but reasonable choices. As simple as that. Every choice we make cannot be expected to fulfill every optimal criteria, but maybe our choices can be reasonable and generally not detrimental to our wellbeing.
To help us make reasonable choices it might be good to have an idea about why and for whom we make the choices we do. Everything from why and for whom we choose to exercise or choose the career path we pursue, to why and for whom we choose to self-sacrifice or choose to love. Maybe not entirely necessary to contemplate why and for whom we choose to brush our teeth, but you get my point.
In this day and age when self-expression and self-image is something many of us publicly share on a daily basis it might be good to be honest about why and for whom we project the image we choose to project. As an example, I recently posted a photo on Facebook and on Instagram of my Playstation 4. Why and for whom? As with everything on Facebook, I shared it for other people to see. I want people to associate me with gaming. I want to be associated with gaming because I spend a lot of time doing it, it's important to me and I am a fairly competent gamer. I even dare say I'm probably a fantastic gamer, compared to other home-makers in their 30s! Was the choice to post a photo on Facebook a step closer to reaching my fullest potential. Clearly not. But was it a reasonable choice given why I wanted to post it. Personally, I would say yes.
I've also thought long and hard about why and for whom I'm writing this blog. In short, I write because I think a lot and because I enjoy writing. I've never been good at keeping diaries, so making it public holds me more accountable (not entirely sure why). I know most of you who read this blog know me in person, and I like for you to know how I'm doing, what's going on in my life and what I've been contemplating lately.
Obviously, I hope some of you can relate to what I've written, hopefully I've even sparked a further thought or two, but I am acutely aware of the fact that most of the things we read on blogs, Facebook, Twitter, Google+ and see on Instagram are fleeting moments that will only catch out attention for a couple of seconds before we move on to the next thing on our feed. Because, the things we put out there are usually not terribly important, not always interesting and frankly, people don't care as much as we would like to think they do. So a sincere thank you for the time you've spent reading this and for the minutes of your life you could have spent on doing something else.
A final note on reasonable choices. Sometimes reasonable choices come in form of products. 2014 has just begun, but three reasonable products have already improved my life and will continue to do so for a long time to come: Playstation 4, a new Electrolux vacuum and my Magimix food-processor.
It's a new year. For many, it's an opportunity to start with a clean slate and to begin molding a better and improved version of themselves. With so many exclamation marks to guide us along the way, one would have to be hyper vigilant and flawlessly self-aware to make the right choices and to act accordingly to reflect our willingness to be our best selves, to reach our fullest potential.
I don't know about you, but to me, it's too much pressure. Also, it's unreasonable to think we can be honestly self-reflective and perfect judges at any given situation. And if anything less than perfection is considered a failure, no wonder people give up on their new year's resolutions before end of January!
This got me thinking about Will Ferrell. Specifically, Will Ferrell in the movie "The Internship". Not a profound movie by any means, but in the movie, Will Ferrell plays a character with a big neck tattoo saying "Make Reasonable Choices".
I think this might be the way to go. Not perfect choices, but reasonable choices. As simple as that. Every choice we make cannot be expected to fulfill every optimal criteria, but maybe our choices can be reasonable and generally not detrimental to our wellbeing.
To help us make reasonable choices it might be good to have an idea about why and for whom we make the choices we do. Everything from why and for whom we choose to exercise or choose the career path we pursue, to why and for whom we choose to self-sacrifice or choose to love. Maybe not entirely necessary to contemplate why and for whom we choose to brush our teeth, but you get my point.
In this day and age when self-expression and self-image is something many of us publicly share on a daily basis it might be good to be honest about why and for whom we project the image we choose to project. As an example, I recently posted a photo on Facebook and on Instagram of my Playstation 4. Why and for whom? As with everything on Facebook, I shared it for other people to see. I want people to associate me with gaming. I want to be associated with gaming because I spend a lot of time doing it, it's important to me and I am a fairly competent gamer. I even dare say I'm probably a fantastic gamer, compared to other home-makers in their 30s! Was the choice to post a photo on Facebook a step closer to reaching my fullest potential. Clearly not. But was it a reasonable choice given why I wanted to post it. Personally, I would say yes.
I've also thought long and hard about why and for whom I'm writing this blog. In short, I write because I think a lot and because I enjoy writing. I've never been good at keeping diaries, so making it public holds me more accountable (not entirely sure why). I know most of you who read this blog know me in person, and I like for you to know how I'm doing, what's going on in my life and what I've been contemplating lately.
Obviously, I hope some of you can relate to what I've written, hopefully I've even sparked a further thought or two, but I am acutely aware of the fact that most of the things we read on blogs, Facebook, Twitter, Google+ and see on Instagram are fleeting moments that will only catch out attention for a couple of seconds before we move on to the next thing on our feed. Because, the things we put out there are usually not terribly important, not always interesting and frankly, people don't care as much as we would like to think they do. So a sincere thank you for the time you've spent reading this and for the minutes of your life you could have spent on doing something else.
A final note on reasonable choices. Sometimes reasonable choices come in form of products. 2014 has just begun, but three reasonable products have already improved my life and will continue to do so for a long time to come: Playstation 4, a new Electrolux vacuum and my Magimix food-processor.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)