My meditation practice, my dreams, and my thoughts seem to be returning to a similar theme these days: How everything changes. It’s gotten so I can’t even appreciate a good wallow, so soon do I return to hope. I’ve never been a hopeful person, so this is an odd mindset for me. But the flip side to this realization is that the good stuff will also soon pass. Which is why I am no longer kicking myself for lingering in bed snuggling my babies on weekends. How many more weekends will I have like that? Not nearly enough. And honestly, nothing I’d get up early to do is more important than baby cuddles.
My dreams have been quite informative lately. Oh, there’s the usual detritus in there — fears and anxieties and triggers, random people I’ve not thought about in years making cameo appearances, and oddly specific details (the main setting of my dream last night was a three-story room wallpapered in a lavender-cream velour). But they’ve also taught me much about myself, sorted out conundrums effortlessly — while I slept, even! — and even given me a few pointers as to what I should be working on next. After so many years of restless and interrupted sleep, it’s nice to reach the point where I can not only dream, but that those dreams can be useful. Just imagine what I could do if I got enough sleep to feel rested.
This post about apparently insane employers. Look, I work hard — some days, 18 hours. I am dedicated, and smart, and want to do a good job. But my personal time is off limits. If there is even the possibility that you’ll be asking me to drop everything during a family vacation and come to work, our relationship isn’t going any further than the interview. While I derive more from working than just a paycheck, my job will never be more important than my family. And quite frankly, I think that’s exactly how it should be.
A little more Jane the Virgin. I’m sad about Michael, but she’s writing more now — that’s always a good thing.
I never listen to podcasts or watch online videos. I can read faster than you can talk, and skimming to the part I am interested in is far, far easier in print, so I don’t get the whole multimedia thing. I see how videos benefit my kids, who can’t read, so perhaps my experience is tied to the fact that I am such a hyperreader. But I did come across a podcast I wanted to listen to: Gretchen Rubin’s episode about dealing with a Rebel preschooler. (Gretchen talks about the Four Tendencies of people. It’s fascinating stuff, if you’re unfamiliar with the concept. I vacillate between being an Upholder and an Obliger.) And I derived some great tips I can’t wait to try out on Anya. (Kai is, to my guess, either an Upholder or an Obliger, like his mother. I know how to deal with him. Anya is without question a Rebel, to my pride/dismay. I’ll take all the help I can get with her.) But my god, is iTunes annoying. It took me half an hour just to set up the app and my account so I could listen to the podcast. I swore off all things Apple years ago, partly because I associate Apple products with an ex I’d just as soon never think about again. But as this podcast reminded me, he’s not the only reason — or even the main reason — I hate all things Apple.
(I’ll update later on about whether the tips helped me deal with Anya.)
While I do enjoy rambling here, collecting my thoughts and waxing philosophical, it occurs to me that this exercise is another way to spin my wheels. In the near future (meaning whenever I figure out what my workload is going to be like for the coming weeks), I’m going to dial back the blogging and dedicate some of this writing time to work on my book(s).
Fall. I suddenly find myself planning cooking and baking projects. More than back-to-school (which is still too new to us to be a trigger), this tells me fall is coming. Perhaps it’s the new August angst, this urge to bake. Maybe I’m responding to some subtle shift in the sun’s rays. Either way, I’m ready to roll up my sleeves and break out my Kitchenaid.
Making me happy:
Anyaisms of this week:
“Why you got such a cute face? You make me want to nuggle you, you so cute.” (Yes, that was directed at me.)
“When you die, I’ll remember you. Unless I die first. Then I wait for you, and we remember together.”
“When I grumpy, I need extra smiles.”