"To err is human...

I have a habit of thinking compulsively, sometimes in circles. Reacting to seemingly small stimuli, for example a negative feeling in the pit of my stomach or a tinge of longing, I fabricate a story to explain the emotion. People who know a lot more than me call it "rationalizing".  I condemn myself for being affected by the impatient driver who cut me off or becoming irritable with a family member. For admiring young lovers enjoying the newness of their relationship and comparing it to my own relationship, or observing a peer with enviable confidence, looks, success, and wondering if I am enough. The cycle is potentially damaging because everyone has something we haven't. More so, everyone's different. We forget to give thanks for who and what we are, flaws and all. 

I've eased up of late though, because there is an odd liberation in acknowledging unsavory human tendencies. Identifying simply, " I am in a bad mood; it will pass." Admitting when I am jealous, critical, or angry. Finding peace in a burst of fury or caddy impulse before releasing them. Feelings like this remind me that I am fallible, at the same time encouraging acceptance and personal growth.

"I am broken, and that is ok. I was made to be imperfect."

It is gratifying to be honest. In the deep recesses of my mind, what goes on isn't immediately available to others; I can choose to make it their business or keep it filed in my personal folder. Thoughts are powerful, but I've seen first-hand that thoughts don't make the person. Actions and words released in to the world make the person. 

The struggle is constant, to make the right choice over the easy choice, to act with compassion and patience. Thankfully, every day is another chance, as my Nana told me once. You can wake up and begin again, carrying the weight of the days prior until it is too heavy to bear. 

Why Life is like the SAT's

I was chatting with a high school student recently. She is in her junior year, the tell-all year. She spoke of college visits, future plans, and of course the SAT's. While I am past my standardized testing high school days, I couldn't help but draw some parallels: why life is like the SAT's.

1. There are expectations. Lots and lots of expectations.
2. It is tempting to disregard the directions. 
3. It is important to read the entire question before blurting out an answer. An informed response will draw better results.
4. A majority of the questions have an exact answer, even if we disagree with it. And we can only pick one: the agony. 
5. The remaining questions are open-ended. Despite our sincerest wishes otherwise, there is no clear cut answer. Even worse, a stranger may judge our efforts. 
6. We are confined to the constraints of a demographic. Vibrant, multifaceted and unique people diminished to an age, race, and/or gender.
7. Not everyone performs well, relatively speaking.  Their talents will manifest in other ways regardless of pressure to conform.
8. It is time-bound. As a result there is an indescribable urgency to get it exactly right. 
9. There are instructions to color within the lines, but the temptation to break outside the boundaries is ever present.
10. It would be wonderful if it came with a handy sheet of formulas. A Pythagorean theorem to get through a breakup, or losing a loved one. A universal equation for picking the right job, the right spouse, the right path. 

As much as life might seem like the SAT's using cheeky little analogies, and I do love analogies, the bottom line is life is not a test. There are no answers, no clear cut directions. No score that dictates exactly where we belong. There will be pressure to do the best we can. To get the perfect score. (MTV even made a movie about this...)

Kyle (Chris Evans) is a high school senior with looming SAT exams on which he needs a high score in order to get into the architechture program he wants to attend. He is also desperate not to end up like his older brother Larry (Matthew Lillard) who is still living at home.

We may feel like we didn't perform well enough. But at the end of life, an SAT score won't make a smidge of a difference. The people we were, will.

What I learned in 2013

I don't really love New Year's. Involuntarily, I correlate it with the end of the Christmas season and it leaves me melancholy. While I understand it's a time to reflect on beginnings along with the potential of another year, it's also slightly sad. Likely not for everyone; maybe I'm just a little odd. Oh well, it takes all kinds of kinds. 

The few days before January 1, I start to contemplate all the things I will need to change. The resolutions start materializing in excess. Eat better, exercise more, worry less, save more. Be more comfortable in my skin, learn something new, abandon bad habits. The list goes on and on. Then I get a whiff of realism and acknowledge that while I can improve in many ways, the Francesca of 2013 wasn't so bad either. I learned quite a bit too, as I hope to do every year, as long as I live.

I learned that circumstances are never static, but rather always evolving. When too many decisions are lumped together, it can become overwhelming, even anxiety provoking. Tackle one issue at a time, when you come to it. 

Second guessing makes us human. Vulnerability too. According to researcher Brene Brown, vulnerability makes us more worthy of receiving love. 

On the topic of love. Cherish it. But also realize it is not always easy. It takes patience and compromise. 59 years of compromise looks something like this.

If an environment isn't bringing out the best in you, and you have the opportunity to change your circumstances, leave.  I'd rather be a happy wanderer, than left stagnant and withering in a toxic place. 

I cannot always be certain where I will be, with whom, and doing what... but the winding road makes for a more eventful journey.  And at the very least I can imagine how I'd like to live, who I'd like to be, and go in that direction.

Food tastes better when it is shared with good people. Scratch that. Steaks from Keens are phenomenal regardless, but doubly wonderful when eaten alongside good people, after a night of ice skating. And always order the bacon appetizer.

• Don't judge everything from a moral vantage point. I am entitled to feel a certain way or react negatively without myself or my opposition being wrong.
• Fatigue, discontent, impatience, and sadness happen. And then they pass.  
• I am not entrusted with ensuring anyone else’s ultimate happiness. I can only control my own.
• We must be content to experience things for ourselves. The world is ours for the living. We are not exactly alike any other human being on this planet. There is no need to feel like you have to completely align with anyone’s sentiments.
• There is almost always a gray area.
• I learned a 35 year old and an 85 year old can be the best of friends. Friendship doesn't conform to parameters or limiting conventions.
• Arguing is necessary and helps to forge stronger relationships; especially with people you care for.
• Sometimes you just have to change your tune, and move on.
• If you have two cats, you can handle a third.

I moved back home to New Jersey and have reconnected with family in a big way. Barbecues were abundant. I learned to play darts. I had a garden, leased a truck, and had my own Christmas tree. I reacquainted myself with slope intercept form as an Algebra tutor. I sang again, learned some HTML, and made ravioli from scratch. I found a new job where I learn daily, like school without the student loans.

I have always known the little things have a way of being the most special, but this has been especially evident of late. I will cling to this notion because I feel very strongly that when we value the smallest of blessings, contentment is truly ours.

Cheers to 2014, and the lessons learned this past year and every year prior.

And rain will make the flowers grow

Theater buffs among you will know those lyrics are from Les Miserables, and sung during Eponine's heart wrenching last moments. If you could care less about theater, that is certainly fine as well. The message is one of hope and I think it is relevant most days, but especially today, twelve years after many innocent lives were taken from us.

The song is called "A Little Fall of Rain" and as earlier mentioned, it marks the last breathes for a young woman, who led a life far from what she had dreamt. She doesn't receive the affection of the man she adores, as he is madly in love with someone else. He still comes to her side to comfort her before she departs,  and their exchange is so poignant. "If I could heal your wounds with words of love."  If only...

All the while, rain falls. Eponine musters the courage to be brave, speaking of the cathartic nature of the rain, falling upon the Earth and making flowers bloom anew. She is undeniably afraid but continues to find solace in this motif of rain. "This rain will wash away what's past."  I don't necessarily agree that anything painful will ever be completely past us, but I suppose life and all its demands propel us to find the strength to continue. 

I am guilty, and I am sure most of us are, of sometimes focusing my energies on frivolous things I cannot control. Irrational fears about the future, or hell, about the present for that matter. Am I doing enough to build a future I can be proud of? What is my purpose and what does it all mean? Then there is the really insignificant stuff. Does this dress make me look fat or is my hair a hot mess? Why did that random stranger just cut me off and scream obscenities. Ugh, the line at the super market is so very long and I am hungry... The list goes on. It takes a conscious effort to try and quiet these nagging voices in my head. They don't help in any way, if anything they deter from any sort of productive action and motivation to better myself. 

Yet, life is not all daisies and butterflies. Not even close.  We cannot will all the bad things to go away. Periods of loss and sadness we have to face. Broken hearts. Even expectations that are deflated and plans that do not come to fruition deliver a crushing blow.  I don't think everything happens for the best, or else young parents would never abandon their babies all because they went to work on an average, sunny day.  Parents wouldn't bury their children. People would live to old age with the ones they love. Still, I have to believe in a place where we can learn from what hurts us. We cannot bring loved ones back, but maybe they never leave us in the first place if they reside in our heart. 

It is worthwhile and necessary to be brave, and just try. To put our best foot forward, or even just  a foot forward, and do what we can, where we are. Life is fragile and we should smell the flowers more often. Breathe in some fresh air. And remember not to curse the rain as it serves its purpose too in this grand, confusing scheme. 

May God watch over the fallen and their families, today and always. As well as anyone who ails in their heart, whatever the reason.

"He has achieved success...

...who has lived well, laughed often and loved much; who has gained the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children; who has filled his niche and accomplished his task; who has left the world better than he found it, whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul; who has never lacked appreciation of earth's beauty or failed to express it; who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had; whose life was an inspiration; whose memory a benediction." -Bessie Stanley, 1905

Hello Friday, nice to see you again. And September... Where the heck did you come from? Regardless, happy to have you both. Sunshine, thank you for joining the party. It would be terribly dull without you.

The weeks go quickly and if I don't take a moment to appreciate the small moments that comprise them, I may miss something special. The angst of young adulthood sometimes leaves me a bit on edge, though.

That's why I love, love, love this quote. A few read throughs, and five deep breathes and I am back in a happy place. To whom do I owe my thanks? I was interested to know more about the woman this consoling declaration is attributed to. A Google search of Bessie Stanley revealed a series of entries about this poem but little else.

Thanks to this nifty website, I read the history behind the poem Success. It was commonly credited incorrectly to the prolific Ralph Waldo Emerson. According to Bessie's great granddaughter, the poem  was the winning entry in a contest run by Brown Book Magazine in 1904. The winnings of $250, back then was enough to pay off the author's mortgage and then some. My, how things have changed.

There were no other books or projects by Bessie Stanley widely publicized. Sure the early 1900's lacked the same, robust methods of documentation we have these days. Nonetheless, her name is not readily recognized, nor can I seem to find other things she left behind. Just this brief paragraph, which in essence does exactly what she defines as a "success".

Thank you, Bessie. You've done well.

With much love,

2013