Let's Pretend Category: Life
Exactly what is pretend, make-believe, play-acting? What is it for and does it come natural or do we teach it to our children. Why do human's pretend? What kind of defense mechanism is it. For I really believe it must be just that. If life involves you fully why pretend at anything; there would be no time or room for it. I guess pretending when you are a child is a way of learning; a way of taking the information you are absorbing and sorting it out. Yet that same learning mechanism in children can become a defense mechanism in adults. Sure adults pretend or play-act at times for entertainment but also to hide what is the reality of their life. The evolvement of the human brain has made us incapable of being satisfied with the day to day existence of survival. We are always seeking more and are not always sure what that more is. Thus we pretend. We pretend to know what we are doing. We pretend to know what we want. We pretend to be satisfied and happy. We pretend that anything matters at all. When all along the reality of life is basic. Eat, sleep , and other bodily functions and everything else is there to support those basics. We are just beings being born, growing, and dying. Nothing really matters; it is just existence. So we will pretend it matters then maybe it will. We will pretend to know and then maybe we will. We will pretend to be complete and maybe the emptyness will leave us alone. I don't really know; after all I am only pretending

memories

I read an article in a magazine about writing your memoirs. I guess I thought memoirs were the same as writing your autobiography but according to the article this is not so. The article stated that memoirs are what it sounds like, memories written as though you were reliving them. The only problem I have with the concept is that my memory is not quite what it used to be. I tend to remember like I dream; in snippets and bits. More a since of the memory than the detail of the memory. In fact if I try to remember so things my mind starts to perceive the memory as imagined. So that leaves me in a state of confusion with a sense of loss. Like a part of myself that I have "remembered" is no longer real so a part of myself is gone. Since we live such busy lives and so many events occur during those lives, our memory bank can get very full. I believe that some memories get compressed to make room for new. They don't go away but become increasingly difficult to access. And since there is so much information flying past us at all times our memories become sullied with bits and pieces that don't belong. Thus when the memory is accessed it may not be totally true to the actual event. This fact makes a person wary of writing ones memoirs. Afraid that the memory they are writing about might not actually be their own or totally imagined. Very much like those tales that old men tell getting bigger with each telling. So I think that I would much rather write memories with disclaimer at the front warning the reader that the memories is based on a fact but may not be totally factual.

My world has gone to a strange shade of gray. Not totally without color but yet not showing any sign of the intensity of a colorful life. Nothing major is the reason for this and it may be just my perceptions of things. I am after all no longer a young woman nor am I yet an elderly woman. I am something in between which might be the reason for the gray. No longer where I once was yet not quite where I will be just here. Here in a place that confuses me and makes me hide. Hide from the memories of youth that I long for; hide from the fear of age that I dread. Leaving me without the ability to live my life at this moment to the fullest thus wasting the precious minutes I have been given. Yes I am aware that this self-pity and fear and lethargy is wasting the small amount of time I have been allotted in this world yet I do not know how to shake this angst. I pray for some sign or a jolt of energy to help me in this time of gray.

When Someone Lifts You Up

I have this young friend who I work with. I have known her since she was a shy and bit introverted teenager. As she got older and life touched her more we has some amazing conversation. Sometimes the content might have seemed questionable to her mother but she has such a questioning mind that I would forget myself. With time I began to realize that I needn't watch myself while conversing with her because she wasn't quite as innocent and naive as she would have people think. Our conversations covered a diverse range of subjects and most of the time I would just ramble on. She is like a sponge just absorbing all that she hears. Sometimes we disagree and there have been times that I think she might have judged me a bit harshly for decisions I made in my life. Still when she received all the facts she might have softened her judgements a bit. If anything this young friend of mind is fairminded. The main object of this post is to let the world and her know of her unique ability to build people up. To make them feel that the words and thoughts that come from them are of interest and importance. This is not a small ability let me tell you. In a world that can make you feel small and insignificant what great gift than a friend who make you feel like you are seen and heard. This is just my small way of saying thank you.

conversations

I remember a time when I could sit with my little boy and talk and talk and think this boy has a mind that is looking for answers. I knew I wouldn't be able to give him answers because I have always looked for them too. I tried to give him thoughts to roll around in his mind to maybe help him find his own answers. I truly believe there are not specific answers to the questions we all have about life. That there are only answers specific to ourselves and we and we alone are the ones that have to find them. It would be so much easier if there were specific answers and we could be comfortable taking those answers and living life accordingly. It could very well be that there are specific answers and I am just unable to comprehend the rights and wrongs of life. I don't really know; I can only know how I think and feel. I can listen and ponder what others tell me but in the end, how and when I use what I have heard,is essentially an answer I have come up with, making it my answer and mine only. Even if the answer is very very similar to someone else's answer it is still stamped with my interpretation of how things are and should be, thus making it unique and mine. I am not sure if this makes any sense but then again there comes into play the uniqueness that makes up each individual. I can only hope that my son someday understands that we are all looking for answers and that all the answers that are found have some merit even if they don't look like the ones he has found.

feeling empty at the start of the year

So I haven't been writing lately and I'm not sure why I am doing it now.
Just the fact that I am doing anything but laying in bed trying not think is
amazing. I ended the old year being pissy because I wanted to be doing something
I am not sure what. I just didn't want to be bored like I always seem to be. My
mother would tell me there is no reason to be bored, find something to do. That's
just the thing; there are things to do but they don't appeal to me or my brain
doesn't see the sense in doing them. It feels so weird and I can't shake this cloud
of blah that descends on me coloring my world a hazy gray. I feel like I am dead
but forgot to die. I am lost and am not sure if I want to be found or left to fade away.
I hate writing this stuff because I feel stupid and pathetic. There are people with
real problems and when I put this stuff down in words I feel like a crybaby.
What a way to start the New Year. I hope this feeling goes away soon.