I can't actually believe it has been one year. One year ago today, I was certain my life was over. How was life supposed to continue without the most important person in the world? But, life did continue and here I am, one year later, in another country, living a new life. Coming to London was the best thing I could have done, really. I needed to figure out who I was as a person, without being "Haydee and Joe's daughter." I couldn't do that at home. I needed to be somewhere where no one knew me, so I could reinvent myself. And, I have reinvented myself to some extent. I mean, I'm still me - and it's crazy to think I'd change that significantly. But, I am fguring out how to go it alone, and how to be OK with that. It's not that I don't have low moments or like I don't feel lonely, because I definitely do. But, somehow, I'm finding the strength to keep going. Mommy always said "Adversity builds character," and I suppose over the years I built up the strength to deal with the worst life could throw at me. But there's something else too. Over the last year I've sometimes wondered why someone who has had the close relationship I had with my parents should lose them. Rather unfairly, I have found myself sometimes resenting people who still have their parents. I'm not proud of it, but there it is. I expecially get annoyed when I hear about people not getting along with their parents, when I would love to just have a conversation with mine. Like I said, I know it's not fair to judge others' relationships with their parents, but what can I say? Sometimes I can't help it. Anyway, sometimes I find myself thinking that I was so close with my parents because I was destined to lose them too soon. As if I was storing up the love an happy memories to sustain me through the rest of my lie without them. And, in a weird way, if having them with me longer would have meant not being as close to them, I don't think I would have wanted that.
Anyway, it's been a hell of a year. So much has happened, and continues to happen. Keith and Angela have been through so much more this year too, but that seems to be getting a bit better. This is life, or "afterlife" I guess you could say. Figuring out who you are when the most important person in your world is gone. It's a work in progress, and I'm interested to see how it turns out.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
Good Enough to See
It really is a good thing I don’t have an adoring public hanging on my every word for nourishment – they’d starve. Seriously, I could never be one of those people who tweet every little detail of their lives. Aside from the fact that the world doesn’t care if I had fish and chips for lunch (I did, by the way), who has that kind of time. Although, that does remind me that Kacy Cannon, the hero of my teen novel The Secret of Starlight Landing, hasn’t been on her twitter in a while. Must get on that.
Anyway, I’ve had some experiences recently (well one was in November, but see statement above about the frequency of posts!) that have reminded me of an old life philosophy I had. Don’t worry, it’s nothing deep and ponderous. I don’t really do deep an ponderous. And, it’s not so much a philosophy as an observation, I suppose. At any rate, I call it “Good Enough to See.”
So, what does that mean? Perhaps an illustration is best. Last week, I went to a black tie performance of Twelfth Night at the Royal National Theatre in London. Very nice. Flowing champagne. The works. And, in November, I went to the 150th Anniversary Gala of the Battersea Dogs and Cats Home. Lovely dinner, great performances. Again, the works. Both events had their share of celebrities: Andrew Lloyd Webber, Simon Cowell, even royalty and red carpets. Not that I actually got to mingle directly with said celebrities or royalty. I merely got to breathe the same rarified air and drink the same champagne. And, I was not invited to the dinner after the Twelfth Night Performance. Now this isn’t about celebrity at all, because I’m not one to obsess over celebrities. But, it proves my point. Lots of people envied me getting to go to these things, and it was fun and pretty cool (how many times do you get to sit in a crowd and be addressed, “Your royal highness, my lords, ladies and gentlemen”?). But all I could think was, “How come I can’t be like them?” I was able to attend the event, but not able to move in the highest circles. Thus, I was good enough to see what I was not good enough to be.
No matter what we achieve in life, it seems there’s always a level above us. And, no matter how content we may be with our achievement, as soon as the novelty wears off and we realize there is another level above us, we want that too. “How come I can’t be like them?” Another example was when I was skating. I could execute most of the basic freestyle jumps, but I lacked any true talent, and my bad knees sunk my hopes of doubles and triples pretty early (really was hoping for that double salchow). But, because I was “good enough,” I shared the freestyle ice with the girls at the rink who were really good. Thus I was good enough to see what I was not good enough to be.
The question is, is it a bad thing that we always reach for the next level? Isn’t that what life is about? Reaching for what’s just above in a constant striving for bigger and better things? After all, no one would ever achieve success if they were just content to be “good enough.” And, yet, the constant striving can take its toll. At what point do you need to examine your life and say, “Good enough is good enough.” I honestly don’t know the answer to that because I haven’t reached it yet. I’ve enjoyed some minor success in my life, but my goal has always been to make my living writing. I love teaching and would continue to do it regardless of how successful my writing was, but I feel the need to be validated as an author (writing a more regular blog would be a good start, I admit). I want to be identified as a writer first, and then a teacher. But, does there come a time when I have to hang up the quill? I don’t know.
A last reflection makes me think of the show Frasier. One of my favorite episodes is when they steal Cam Winston’s invitation to an exclusive day spa (because they didn’t get one of their own – again, good enough to see). Once they get in, they’re thrilled and so relaxed, until they see a gold door. They’re told that they have silver membership, and that the gold door is only for gold members. Well, suddenly everything they just raved about was inferior and they needed to go through the gold door. They sneak in and again are thrilled, until they see a platinum door. Well, clearly, platinum beats gold any day! Once again they sneak in. It’s like nirvana, until they see the diamond door. Even though they are told once again not to go through, they do, and bask in the warm glow of the sun, until they realize they are in the alley behind the spa, among the garbage bins. If they had just been content with what they had, they would still have been enjoying the spa, but “good enough” was not good enough.
I don’t have the answer, but my gut tells me we keep reaching, and if we end up in the dumpster, so be it – at least we’ll know we haven’t missed out on anything. But, me, I’m hoping for diamonds.
Anyway, I’ve had some experiences recently (well one was in November, but see statement above about the frequency of posts!) that have reminded me of an old life philosophy I had. Don’t worry, it’s nothing deep and ponderous. I don’t really do deep an ponderous. And, it’s not so much a philosophy as an observation, I suppose. At any rate, I call it “Good Enough to See.”
So, what does that mean? Perhaps an illustration is best. Last week, I went to a black tie performance of Twelfth Night at the Royal National Theatre in London. Very nice. Flowing champagne. The works. And, in November, I went to the 150th Anniversary Gala of the Battersea Dogs and Cats Home. Lovely dinner, great performances. Again, the works. Both events had their share of celebrities: Andrew Lloyd Webber, Simon Cowell, even royalty and red carpets. Not that I actually got to mingle directly with said celebrities or royalty. I merely got to breathe the same rarified air and drink the same champagne. And, I was not invited to the dinner after the Twelfth Night Performance. Now this isn’t about celebrity at all, because I’m not one to obsess over celebrities. But, it proves my point. Lots of people envied me getting to go to these things, and it was fun and pretty cool (how many times do you get to sit in a crowd and be addressed, “Your royal highness, my lords, ladies and gentlemen”?). But all I could think was, “How come I can’t be like them?” I was able to attend the event, but not able to move in the highest circles. Thus, I was good enough to see what I was not good enough to be.
No matter what we achieve in life, it seems there’s always a level above us. And, no matter how content we may be with our achievement, as soon as the novelty wears off and we realize there is another level above us, we want that too. “How come I can’t be like them?” Another example was when I was skating. I could execute most of the basic freestyle jumps, but I lacked any true talent, and my bad knees sunk my hopes of doubles and triples pretty early (really was hoping for that double salchow). But, because I was “good enough,” I shared the freestyle ice with the girls at the rink who were really good. Thus I was good enough to see what I was not good enough to be.
The question is, is it a bad thing that we always reach for the next level? Isn’t that what life is about? Reaching for what’s just above in a constant striving for bigger and better things? After all, no one would ever achieve success if they were just content to be “good enough.” And, yet, the constant striving can take its toll. At what point do you need to examine your life and say, “Good enough is good enough.” I honestly don’t know the answer to that because I haven’t reached it yet. I’ve enjoyed some minor success in my life, but my goal has always been to make my living writing. I love teaching and would continue to do it regardless of how successful my writing was, but I feel the need to be validated as an author (writing a more regular blog would be a good start, I admit). I want to be identified as a writer first, and then a teacher. But, does there come a time when I have to hang up the quill? I don’t know.
A last reflection makes me think of the show Frasier. One of my favorite episodes is when they steal Cam Winston’s invitation to an exclusive day spa (because they didn’t get one of their own – again, good enough to see). Once they get in, they’re thrilled and so relaxed, until they see a gold door. They’re told that they have silver membership, and that the gold door is only for gold members. Well, suddenly everything they just raved about was inferior and they needed to go through the gold door. They sneak in and again are thrilled, until they see a platinum door. Well, clearly, platinum beats gold any day! Once again they sneak in. It’s like nirvana, until they see the diamond door. Even though they are told once again not to go through, they do, and bask in the warm glow of the sun, until they realize they are in the alley behind the spa, among the garbage bins. If they had just been content with what they had, they would still have been enjoying the spa, but “good enough” was not good enough.
I don’t have the answer, but my gut tells me we keep reaching, and if we end up in the dumpster, so be it – at least we’ll know we haven’t missed out on anything. But, me, I’m hoping for diamonds.
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