Hello, all!
It's time again. I'm back to blogging, for now anyway. I have so many things on my mind and I need to share.
So here I am again.
The thing about the hours between midnight and dawn is that I am never sure if it is morning or night. It is still nighttime, but the day approaches quickly-- especially when you are awake without a purpose, or are suffering from a sense of impending doom
(the things the day brings are not always welcome).
It's quiet, too much so if your mind is racing and you can't force yourself to relax. When your mind is brimming with thoughts and lists of
things to do
things not yet done
mistakes
corrections
and misguided attempts at motivation.
The night is when I spend the most time thinking
(foolishly so because thinking strangles sleeping)
(and I am hopeless without sleep)
but the thoughts are good and sometimes inspiring and sometimes clarifying.
But it is lonely at night. The knowledge that everybody else is sleeping or off in their own mental world makes me feel lonely and isolated. At night I find myself in measures of extremes: the overly emotional girl that is brimming with love and happiness, or the girl that feels profoundly lonely. Frantically working or slowly drifting into unconsciousness. Company in the form of pixelated words on a too-bright screen, eyes straining; the light from outside through my blinds, covering my eyes to sleep.
As the evening wears on, sometimes I find myself thinking of happier things-- realizing, alone in my room, that maybe
just maybe
I am so much more than I give myself credit for.
(But sometimes I am much, much less.)
It is those moments, though,
(where I recognize that I am spectacular in ways I don't even acknowledge)
(that sounds so egotistical written out like that)
that I realize that these late nights
or mornings
are perhaps the best time because they are the most challenging.
It is in these hours that I am most critical and most emotional; where I allow myself to think about more than just mundane life for a while (before I'm sucked back into worrystressworrystressworrystressexhaustion).
I think it's time to sleep.
Aly
Showing posts with label honesty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label honesty. Show all posts
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Long Time, No Blog
Hello, all!
Earlier today, my friend Laura commented on a couple of my old blogs, which brought me back here. I found myself reading some of my old posts and remembering why I loved blogging.
From 2009 to 2011, I blogged fairly regularly-- mostly during my time in France, but recorded deep within the pages of this blog is my own personal history. The thoughts, emotions, memories, rants, and dreams of a girl that had a lot to say and wasn't afraid to share. This blog was both my private story and my public outlet, and I realize that this was an important part of my life, for much longer than I acknowledge now.
I stopped blogging rather abruptly, and sometimes I think about why I made that decision. I didn't really explain it on here-- I posted once in January of 2012, but beyond that, I made the fatal blog mistake of disappearing. I'm still around on the internet-- my tumblr is pretty active, but it isn't a personal blog so much as a collection of things I like.
The thing about this blog is that it became a bit of a chore after a while-- it began to feel like something I HAD to do, rather than something I wanted to do. It became a far-too-public forum for me to feel comfortable sharing some of the experiences that I had previously written about without even thinking twice. As I get older, I become more aware that the internet is a very public thing and in most cases, there are things that really ought to be kept private. There are things that are difficult to share, and not knowing who reads my blog made me feel vulnerable.
Furthermore, this blog ceased to be about "Aly en France". It became a personal blog, for my own benefit (and the benefit of anybody that cared to read what I have to share), and the transition struck me as awkward.
It may be time to start blogging again. My distance from France does not mean that is no longer part of my identity or my lifestyle.
With that in mind, here's to a new year-- and maybe a new blog. As my tumblr states: my heart is in France, and I am here. Life is ongoing, and I may be ready to share it again.
-Aly
Earlier today, my friend Laura commented on a couple of my old blogs, which brought me back here. I found myself reading some of my old posts and remembering why I loved blogging.
From 2009 to 2011, I blogged fairly regularly-- mostly during my time in France, but recorded deep within the pages of this blog is my own personal history. The thoughts, emotions, memories, rants, and dreams of a girl that had a lot to say and wasn't afraid to share. This blog was both my private story and my public outlet, and I realize that this was an important part of my life, for much longer than I acknowledge now.
I stopped blogging rather abruptly, and sometimes I think about why I made that decision. I didn't really explain it on here-- I posted once in January of 2012, but beyond that, I made the fatal blog mistake of disappearing. I'm still around on the internet-- my tumblr is pretty active, but it isn't a personal blog so much as a collection of things I like.
The thing about this blog is that it became a bit of a chore after a while-- it began to feel like something I HAD to do, rather than something I wanted to do. It became a far-too-public forum for me to feel comfortable sharing some of the experiences that I had previously written about without even thinking twice. As I get older, I become more aware that the internet is a very public thing and in most cases, there are things that really ought to be kept private. There are things that are difficult to share, and not knowing who reads my blog made me feel vulnerable.
Furthermore, this blog ceased to be about "Aly en France". It became a personal blog, for my own benefit (and the benefit of anybody that cared to read what I have to share), and the transition struck me as awkward.
It may be time to start blogging again. My distance from France does not mean that is no longer part of my identity or my lifestyle.
With that in mind, here's to a new year-- and maybe a new blog. As my tumblr states: my heart is in France, and I am here. Life is ongoing, and I may be ready to share it again.
-Aly
Monday, September 5, 2011
Thinking in Rainstorms
Hello, all!
So, I'm back at school now, and for once I'm alone in my room with my thoughts. It's weird... it seems to quiet and lonely in here without the companionship of my friends.
Today, I seem to have retreated into my own mind a bit. Caught in my own analysis of my surroundings and distracted by other stories or people or places, I'm not sure what I need to snap out of this silence. I'm unnerved by the fact that I feel like I'm neither here nor there, not fully present in conversations as thoughts whisk me to other places and reality snaps me back.
It's been raining lately, patches of torrential downpour and moments of gloomy grey sky. I'm enraptured by it, the noise and the feel of it... I've danced in it already, and I'm still cold and shivering. A moment of brief respite from my mind, though a few minutes of spinning around like a madwoman possessed by some undeniable urge to be strange for no apparent reason. Cold and shivering with rain battering me, it was easy to feel small and forgettable for a little bit. Unfortunately, this foolishness, though not regretted, was only a momentary escape before my mind closed around me again and I found myself at a standstill.
Sometimes, in moments like that, I believe that I shouldn't be around people at all. Like the presence of people I barely know but already know too well (it's a strange contradiction) makes the fact that I'm silently lost less legitimate and more like a show of my inability to decide how I should act or what I need to be doing.
These are scattered thoughts, but I'm thinking in terms of rainstorms, ideas and judgements and my own uncertainty... leaves tracked in by feet, unnoticed until they are scattered across your floor. I'll just keep dancing around in circles, embracing the rain until the world is a blur and my mind has settled.
A demain!
-Aly
So, I'm back at school now, and for once I'm alone in my room with my thoughts. It's weird... it seems to quiet and lonely in here without the companionship of my friends.
Today, I seem to have retreated into my own mind a bit. Caught in my own analysis of my surroundings and distracted by other stories or people or places, I'm not sure what I need to snap out of this silence. I'm unnerved by the fact that I feel like I'm neither here nor there, not fully present in conversations as thoughts whisk me to other places and reality snaps me back.
It's been raining lately, patches of torrential downpour and moments of gloomy grey sky. I'm enraptured by it, the noise and the feel of it... I've danced in it already, and I'm still cold and shivering. A moment of brief respite from my mind, though a few minutes of spinning around like a madwoman possessed by some undeniable urge to be strange for no apparent reason. Cold and shivering with rain battering me, it was easy to feel small and forgettable for a little bit. Unfortunately, this foolishness, though not regretted, was only a momentary escape before my mind closed around me again and I found myself at a standstill.
Sometimes, in moments like that, I believe that I shouldn't be around people at all. Like the presence of people I barely know but already know too well (it's a strange contradiction) makes the fact that I'm silently lost less legitimate and more like a show of my inability to decide how I should act or what I need to be doing.
These are scattered thoughts, but I'm thinking in terms of rainstorms, ideas and judgements and my own uncertainty... leaves tracked in by feet, unnoticed until they are scattered across your floor. I'll just keep dancing around in circles, embracing the rain until the world is a blur and my mind has settled.
A demain!
-Aly
Monday, April 4, 2011
Fears and Promises
Hello, all!
So this has been bothering me all day, and I'm writing about it so that I can stop thinking about it and actually focus.
I have lots of fears. Small fears, and probably irrational ones, but they're ones that continually make sense in the context of my life. Basically, I fear dramatic change that could end in me losing people that are important to me. I could elaborate much more on that, but I'd rather not.
This is partially because I'll be going to visit UNC-Asheville again on Friday, and since that's where I'll be going to college next year (unless something changes within the next month, which is unlikely but still...). Going up to Asheville again for the first of the many orientation-type sessions is like admitting to myself that high school is ending and my life is going to change very DRAMATICALLY, and much sooner than I'm prepared for.
It's scary. I mean, it's awesome and I'm excited, but I'm also terrified. The same old fears, the ones that show up every time you're thrust into a situation where you'll be meeting lots of strangers and what-if-I-make-a-fool-of-myself, what-if-nobody-likes-me, what-if-I-become-cripplingly-socially-awkward, what-if-I-get-lost... and there are so many more. Irrational fears. Silly fears, as though my brain has been transported back to the beginning of middle school or something equally traumatizing.
I can't get rid of them, though. I can't help but be anxious about these minuscule, potential problems. Because these are the small ones, the ones that I'm okay with voicing, and they don't even touch on the larger issues, being that MY LIFE IS CHANGING AND I AM WORRIED. I guess that's the easiest way to say it for now. I want to remind myself of things that I will remember to do, or at least, things I don't want myself to do. Promises, in a way, to myself, ways I want my life to be now and in the future.
I promise that I will not:
I'm giving myself the freedom to change my life whenever I want to. I'm not afraid of my fears (thanks, FDR... *nerd jokes*), and I'll try to understand myself and my choices. I'll try to embrace change and choose the best path. And if I mess up, I'm going to try my hardest to correct it, rather than dwelling on it.
I can make these promises now and hopefully I'll remember them later, and if I don't, somebody will hopefully be around to remind me. (Thanks in advance! :))
So... what are your fears? What promises do you want to make to yourself?
-Aly
P.S. Thanks for reading, as always! Even more thanks for the comments on my last post-- everybody was so encouraging and understanding. Love to all of you. <3
So this has been bothering me all day, and I'm writing about it so that I can stop thinking about it and actually focus.
I have lots of fears. Small fears, and probably irrational ones, but they're ones that continually make sense in the context of my life. Basically, I fear dramatic change that could end in me losing people that are important to me. I could elaborate much more on that, but I'd rather not.
This is partially because I'll be going to visit UNC-Asheville again on Friday, and since that's where I'll be going to college next year (unless something changes within the next month, which is unlikely but still...). Going up to Asheville again for the first of the many orientation-type sessions is like admitting to myself that high school is ending and my life is going to change very DRAMATICALLY, and much sooner than I'm prepared for.
It's scary. I mean, it's awesome and I'm excited, but I'm also terrified. The same old fears, the ones that show up every time you're thrust into a situation where you'll be meeting lots of strangers and what-if-I-make-a-fool-of-myself, what-if-nobody-likes-me, what-if-I-become-cripplingly-socially-awkward, what-if-I-get-lost... and there are so many more. Irrational fears. Silly fears, as though my brain has been transported back to the beginning of middle school or something equally traumatizing.
I can't get rid of them, though. I can't help but be anxious about these minuscule, potential problems. Because these are the small ones, the ones that I'm okay with voicing, and they don't even touch on the larger issues, being that MY LIFE IS CHANGING AND I AM WORRIED. I guess that's the easiest way to say it for now. I want to remind myself of things that I will remember to do, or at least, things I don't want myself to do. Promises, in a way, to myself, ways I want my life to be now and in the future.
I promise that I will not:
- Forget about my close friends that I have now.
- Let people think of me as an object or take advantage of me.
- Lose my morals.
- Follow blindly.
- Have a closed mind.
- Be afraid of new situations or opportunities.
- Put myself into situations that I know are dangerous.
- Abuse my body.
- Shut myself off from the world.
- Be afraid to make change in my life. (Even if it scares me.)
- Pretend to be somebody I'm not.
- Forget my dreams & ambitions.
- Be open to new friendships.
- Explore.
- Fill my life with things that make me happy.
- Focus on others, not just myself.
- Be honest with myself.
- Treat the earth with respect.
- Be kind.
- Remember how it feels to do something new and exciting.
- Be confident.
- Admit my faults... and try to change them.
- Ask forgiveness when I need to.
- Make positive decisions.
- Choose the life I want. (And not regret it.)
I'm giving myself the freedom to change my life whenever I want to. I'm not afraid of my fears (thanks, FDR... *nerd jokes*), and I'll try to understand myself and my choices. I'll try to embrace change and choose the best path. And if I mess up, I'm going to try my hardest to correct it, rather than dwelling on it.
I can make these promises now and hopefully I'll remember them later, and if I don't, somebody will hopefully be around to remind me. (Thanks in advance! :))
So... what are your fears? What promises do you want to make to yourself?
-Aly
P.S. Thanks for reading, as always! Even more thanks for the comments on my last post-- everybody was so encouraging and understanding. Love to all of you. <3
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Warning: (Religion) Rant Ahead
Hello, all.
So, I have things to talk about, but at the moment, they're not things I can share on my blog.
Actually, you know what? It's my blog. And I will write whatever I want and not feel bad about it. If you are easily offended, skip it. Because I'm going to talk religion, and I'm going to be honest here.
(Warning: Rant ahead.)
I hate it when people bring up the religion thing. I hate it. I hate having to remind people of my beliefs and feeling guilty for that small part of me that looks at them and just says "...seriously?"
I hate feeling obligated to give them hope that I can change mind. I've been there, done that. I hate feeling guilty that I disagree with them, and for not saying "no" to people telling me I should come to church with them or whatever.
Worse, I hate myself for saying that I will keep an open mind. I will try, but I can't make that promise. When I make that promise, I am fully aware that it will be next to impossible for me to keep it. I can sit and appreciate the impact religion has on them, but I can't pull that into myself.
I wrote about that during the last "month" (but it wasn't really ONE month, more like two consecutive halves); how some people need religion in their lives. How some people need a God. And I get that. I understand, needing something to believe in and needing to trust that somebody out there is watching over you. I think the faith that some people have is inspiring, the absolute belief in something, and the idea of their life having a definite purpose, dictated by something all-powerful and all-knowing.
The thing is, I can have a purpose for my life without religion. I don't need a mandate from God, and to me, the world makes most sense as I see it now. Religion seems to complicate things and twist perceptions, and it often contradicts itself. Life is random to me; there are coincidences (both good and bad) and there are things that I cannot explain. Science explains enough for me, enough that what I understand the world as much as I think I need to. I, too, can wonder at the beauty of nature and life and the overwhelming thought of infinity. I can be scared of death and enthralled with life and see that it is not God that makes it beautiful or overwhelming or marvelous. It is not God or the Devil that make things bad, and it is not the Devil that corrupts-- nor is it God that saves. Life just IS. It's everything around you. I don't need God to tell me that.
My path isn't dictated by God and I do not miss religion or faith. If anything, I see myself as liberated-- I can look at the world and love its mystery. I can feel fully, wholly as myself. Everything I do, I do for myself and I am well aware that sounds selfish, but that means that everything GOOD I do is merely because I want to, not because I believe that it is what will bring me to Heaven. I get to live every day of my life without guilt; I can make mistakes and forgive myself for making them. I don't have to ask some great power to judge my actions and tell me if I'm "worthy".
I don't feel like I'm missing anything in life. Maybe I'm missing out on the connection that religion gives you to others, but there are other ways to connect with people without a "bond" through God. People are connected by their humanity, not their faith. That is the ONE thing we all have in common-- we are ALL people, good and bad. We can be strong without God. You don't NEED God to be strong. If anything, God gives you an outlet, a source for you to feel strong on your own. If you stop believing in God, all you have left is belief in yourself. That's not a bad place to be, I promise. Life is intimidating and scary and all those things, but God is not a necessity to survival. God is only part of your perception.
My answer to all the difficult questions that faith in God brings up is simple-- there is no God.
How do you deal with your idea of God as loving and forgiving when all through the Bible he shows that he is NOT? How do you reconcile your idea of God as all-loving when some people use God as an example, saying things like "God hates (insert-minority-here)"? How does THAT work? What about back when God was used as a proponent of slavery? If God means well and is so "awesome", why do bad things happen? If he heals and saves, why doesn't he save EVERYBODY? How can a God that means well allow good people to die/go to hell/be in pain? How can you trust that God means the best for you? How do you know that Heaven exists and that you will go there? How do you know that God's "plan" for you is the same that you want for yourself? Why won't God heal amputees?
I couldn't answer those questions. I still can't. My only answer is one that many people will hate me for, and I'm sorry. I'm not trying to convert you. I'm writing this for myself, because I need to say it and I needed to rant. I want to know what you think the answers are, or if you have any. Why do you believe what you believe? Because I know my story and my thoughts, but I don't know yours. And I want to know.
So... that's it I guess. There you go. I think religion is useful in its own right, but I can't find that faith within myself anymore. And it annoys me that I am not given the chance to just let my beliefs stay as they are without it being challenged by friends. I won't apologize for my beliefs or my words, because it's part of who I am; but forgive me for not being what you expect and for believing as you do. It's not something to forgive, anyway.
Anyway, thanks for reading my religion rant and share your own opinions in the comments!
-Aly
So, I have things to talk about, but at the moment, they're not things I can share on my blog.
Actually, you know what? It's my blog. And I will write whatever I want and not feel bad about it. If you are easily offended, skip it. Because I'm going to talk religion, and I'm going to be honest here.
(Warning: Rant ahead.)
I hate it when people bring up the religion thing. I hate it. I hate having to remind people of my beliefs and feeling guilty for that small part of me that looks at them and just says "...seriously?"
I hate feeling obligated to give them hope that I can change mind. I've been there, done that. I hate feeling guilty that I disagree with them, and for not saying "no" to people telling me I should come to church with them or whatever.
Worse, I hate myself for saying that I will keep an open mind. I will try, but I can't make that promise. When I make that promise, I am fully aware that it will be next to impossible for me to keep it. I can sit and appreciate the impact religion has on them, but I can't pull that into myself.
I wrote about that during the last "month" (but it wasn't really ONE month, more like two consecutive halves); how some people need religion in their lives. How some people need a God. And I get that. I understand, needing something to believe in and needing to trust that somebody out there is watching over you. I think the faith that some people have is inspiring, the absolute belief in something, and the idea of their life having a definite purpose, dictated by something all-powerful and all-knowing.
The thing is, I can have a purpose for my life without religion. I don't need a mandate from God, and to me, the world makes most sense as I see it now. Religion seems to complicate things and twist perceptions, and it often contradicts itself. Life is random to me; there are coincidences (both good and bad) and there are things that I cannot explain. Science explains enough for me, enough that what I understand the world as much as I think I need to. I, too, can wonder at the beauty of nature and life and the overwhelming thought of infinity. I can be scared of death and enthralled with life and see that it is not God that makes it beautiful or overwhelming or marvelous. It is not God or the Devil that make things bad, and it is not the Devil that corrupts-- nor is it God that saves. Life just IS. It's everything around you. I don't need God to tell me that.
My path isn't dictated by God and I do not miss religion or faith. If anything, I see myself as liberated-- I can look at the world and love its mystery. I can feel fully, wholly as myself. Everything I do, I do for myself and I am well aware that sounds selfish, but that means that everything GOOD I do is merely because I want to, not because I believe that it is what will bring me to Heaven. I get to live every day of my life without guilt; I can make mistakes and forgive myself for making them. I don't have to ask some great power to judge my actions and tell me if I'm "worthy".
I don't feel like I'm missing anything in life. Maybe I'm missing out on the connection that religion gives you to others, but there are other ways to connect with people without a "bond" through God. People are connected by their humanity, not their faith. That is the ONE thing we all have in common-- we are ALL people, good and bad. We can be strong without God. You don't NEED God to be strong. If anything, God gives you an outlet, a source for you to feel strong on your own. If you stop believing in God, all you have left is belief in yourself. That's not a bad place to be, I promise. Life is intimidating and scary and all those things, but God is not a necessity to survival. God is only part of your perception.
My answer to all the difficult questions that faith in God brings up is simple-- there is no God.
How do you deal with your idea of God as loving and forgiving when all through the Bible he shows that he is NOT? How do you reconcile your idea of God as all-loving when some people use God as an example, saying things like "God hates (insert-minority-here)"? How does THAT work? What about back when God was used as a proponent of slavery? If God means well and is so "awesome", why do bad things happen? If he heals and saves, why doesn't he save EVERYBODY? How can a God that means well allow good people to die/go to hell/be in pain? How can you trust that God means the best for you? How do you know that Heaven exists and that you will go there? How do you know that God's "plan" for you is the same that you want for yourself? Why won't God heal amputees?
I couldn't answer those questions. I still can't. My only answer is one that many people will hate me for, and I'm sorry. I'm not trying to convert you. I'm writing this for myself, because I need to say it and I needed to rant. I want to know what you think the answers are, or if you have any. Why do you believe what you believe? Because I know my story and my thoughts, but I don't know yours. And I want to know.
So... that's it I guess. There you go. I think religion is useful in its own right, but I can't find that faith within myself anymore. And it annoys me that I am not given the chance to just let my beliefs stay as they are without it being challenged by friends. I won't apologize for my beliefs or my words, because it's part of who I am; but forgive me for not being what you expect and for believing as you do. It's not something to forgive, anyway.
Anyway, thanks for reading my religion rant and share your own opinions in the comments!
-Aly
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Lunchables
HELLO!
I tried to post via text message, but that failed epically. :(
Today was kind of bleh. Nothing extraordinary, as always. I didn't get my school's nomination for that scholarship-- it went to exactly who I thought it would. That's okay, though, I'll self-nominate which is lame... and I'm very proud of my friends who DID get the nominations.
The race today was better than I expected. I ran it like I would a tempo run (as did most of the team) but still managed to run faster than the previous race at this course. It was nice and relaxed, and for once I wasn't stressed out over the race. If I were to actually race and be that relaxed, I could probably do much better. Strange how that works.
I'm going to take a break from studying for my first AP US History test by writing this post. This seems counter-intuitive, but whatever. I'll be waking up early to study more for APUSH anyway, so I might as well write what I want to.
Something I've been thinking about lately is body image and the way that we each see ourselves. Beyond that, the way in which people we don't know that well perceive us based on our bodies or even the pieces of our personalities exposed during certain moments. We have a tendency to judge others; we don't do a very good job of "imagining them complexly" (as John Green would say).
My question is this: have you ever experienced body liberty? One moment in time where no one could judge you, where you are completely content with your body in both form and function. I would say that very few people actually have that moment, and even fewer can make that feeling last for an extended period of time.
Lately I've been struggling with my perception of what my body should be and what it is. For me, this is a result of my body insecurity following my time in France (oh, that food, again...), and the demands that cross-country places on my body. It's getting to the point again, or perhaps for the first time, where I've had that moment of body liberty and I am happy with my body. It's very comforting to me to reflect on that moment and pull that feeling into my daily life. Impossible, of course, but still a reminder.
The thing is that other people do not seem to realize how important this is to me. The throwaway comments of others, degrading their own bodies or insulting others bodies, frustrate me. I want to ask them about why they think so poorly of their own bodies (or others). And then, beyond that, when they make comments about people that they don't know very well, comments that hurt unintentionally... do you not realize that you aren't imaging them complexly?
The way you view somebody is related to their appearance and their personality. If you only see or understand facets of either part of a person, then do not judge. Think of your own body and your own flaws, the small bits of yourself that you reveal at certain points. Think of your own insecurity about your body and your soul; pause a minute and think of body liberty and the personality that is greater than what you initially see.
...That wasn't a very well put-together thought. Uhm. I hope you got my point; I was kind of pulling in two things that have been bothering me lately. One of those issues will be taken care of soon, which will be fun.
The person I appreciate today is Sean, for the non-nominee hug in the parking lot, despite his initial reluctance. xD
A demain!
-Aly
I tried to post via text message, but that failed epically. :(
Today was kind of bleh. Nothing extraordinary, as always. I didn't get my school's nomination for that scholarship-- it went to exactly who I thought it would. That's okay, though, I'll self-nominate which is lame... and I'm very proud of my friends who DID get the nominations.
The race today was better than I expected. I ran it like I would a tempo run (as did most of the team) but still managed to run faster than the previous race at this course. It was nice and relaxed, and for once I wasn't stressed out over the race. If I were to actually race and be that relaxed, I could probably do much better. Strange how that works.
I'm going to take a break from studying for my first AP US History test by writing this post. This seems counter-intuitive, but whatever. I'll be waking up early to study more for APUSH anyway, so I might as well write what I want to.
Something I've been thinking about lately is body image and the way that we each see ourselves. Beyond that, the way in which people we don't know that well perceive us based on our bodies or even the pieces of our personalities exposed during certain moments. We have a tendency to judge others; we don't do a very good job of "imagining them complexly" (as John Green would say).
My question is this: have you ever experienced body liberty? One moment in time where no one could judge you, where you are completely content with your body in both form and function. I would say that very few people actually have that moment, and even fewer can make that feeling last for an extended period of time.
Lately I've been struggling with my perception of what my body should be and what it is. For me, this is a result of my body insecurity following my time in France (oh, that food, again...), and the demands that cross-country places on my body. It's getting to the point again, or perhaps for the first time, where I've had that moment of body liberty and I am happy with my body. It's very comforting to me to reflect on that moment and pull that feeling into my daily life. Impossible, of course, but still a reminder.
The thing is that other people do not seem to realize how important this is to me. The throwaway comments of others, degrading their own bodies or insulting others bodies, frustrate me. I want to ask them about why they think so poorly of their own bodies (or others). And then, beyond that, when they make comments about people that they don't know very well, comments that hurt unintentionally... do you not realize that you aren't imaging them complexly?
The way you view somebody is related to their appearance and their personality. If you only see or understand facets of either part of a person, then do not judge. Think of your own body and your own flaws, the small bits of yourself that you reveal at certain points. Think of your own insecurity about your body and your soul; pause a minute and think of body liberty and the personality that is greater than what you initially see.
...That wasn't a very well put-together thought. Uhm. I hope you got my point; I was kind of pulling in two things that have been bothering me lately. One of those issues will be taken care of soon, which will be fun.
The person I appreciate today is Sean, for the non-nominee hug in the parking lot, despite his initial reluctance. xD
A demain!
-Aly
Friday, September 10, 2010
The Samaritan
HELLO!
I didn't intend to blog again today, but of course, sometimes you have to just go with it.
This afternoon after cross-country practice, Molly, Margaret, Katherine, and I dashed off to Margaret's house to meet up with their youth pastor and John (who is in our grade, though I'm not particularly close to him), and Will ended up going as well.
We got to Samaritan Ministries later than planned, but soon, we were working, serving food to the men that would come in. We would cheerfully say "hi!" as they came in, pausing momentarily in our tasks to flash smiles.
After all the work was done, we retreated to the common room, where some played cards while others talked or watched a football game on TV. Margaret was speaking in Spanish to a man that works as a construction worker; I couldn't understand every detail of their conversation, but I understood enough that I knew what was going on. It must be comforting for him to have the opportunity to speak to somebody in such an environment, and talk about his life and topics beyond this town.
Anyway, at 10, there was a devotion. Usually I shy away from discussing religion on this blog, but I am going to address it now, because that devotion was the best I have ever seen. It was inspiring in a way I had never seen, and being in that room, filled with these people, attention centered on this one man, who is the director of the Samaritan, was really interesting. I couldn't help but realize how BADLY some people need to have a God in their lives. They need the guidance and comfort of somebody watching over them, the idea of the good that is coming in their lives. Pulling through a dark time defines these people, and as they continue to struggle, the message of a god that is looking out for them is necessary.
Tonight, two men were saved at the Samaritan. One man had been drunk, and was contemplating suicide. Steve talked to him, and told him to stay here for the night. Later that night, another man was choking; the man from earlier in the day performed the Heimlich. The irony-- the one that had been saved, continuing on to save another man. They spoke of the purpose in each of their lives, guided by God. A reason to live. Having faith and religion gives them that reason, no matter what the difficulties in their lives.
I respect that, and it is interesting to see the ways that religion impacts people's lives. Though I am not religious, and have moved beyond the point where I can truly understand it, I find this reminder of the "truly faithful" to be a good reminder of the good that is the origin of some religious ideals.
Anyhow, I just wanted to share that. I'm glad I had the opportunity to see that, and though my personal beliefs will not likely change because of it, I did appreciate seeing the good in Christianity again. The reason religion exists is because people need God. Not everybody does, and the gods may come in different forms, but in order for some people to find purpose in their life, they need to have this idea of god.
That is all. Time to finish packing! WILMINGTON SOON! :D
Until Monday! (seriously this time)
-Aly
I didn't intend to blog again today, but of course, sometimes you have to just go with it.
This afternoon after cross-country practice, Molly, Margaret, Katherine, and I dashed off to Margaret's house to meet up with their youth pastor and John (who is in our grade, though I'm not particularly close to him), and Will ended up going as well.
We got to Samaritan Ministries later than planned, but soon, we were working, serving food to the men that would come in. We would cheerfully say "hi!" as they came in, pausing momentarily in our tasks to flash smiles.
After all the work was done, we retreated to the common room, where some played cards while others talked or watched a football game on TV. Margaret was speaking in Spanish to a man that works as a construction worker; I couldn't understand every detail of their conversation, but I understood enough that I knew what was going on. It must be comforting for him to have the opportunity to speak to somebody in such an environment, and talk about his life and topics beyond this town.
Anyway, at 10, there was a devotion. Usually I shy away from discussing religion on this blog, but I am going to address it now, because that devotion was the best I have ever seen. It was inspiring in a way I had never seen, and being in that room, filled with these people, attention centered on this one man, who is the director of the Samaritan, was really interesting. I couldn't help but realize how BADLY some people need to have a God in their lives. They need the guidance and comfort of somebody watching over them, the idea of the good that is coming in their lives. Pulling through a dark time defines these people, and as they continue to struggle, the message of a god that is looking out for them is necessary.
Tonight, two men were saved at the Samaritan. One man had been drunk, and was contemplating suicide. Steve talked to him, and told him to stay here for the night. Later that night, another man was choking; the man from earlier in the day performed the Heimlich. The irony-- the one that had been saved, continuing on to save another man. They spoke of the purpose in each of their lives, guided by God. A reason to live. Having faith and religion gives them that reason, no matter what the difficulties in their lives.
I respect that, and it is interesting to see the ways that religion impacts people's lives. Though I am not religious, and have moved beyond the point where I can truly understand it, I find this reminder of the "truly faithful" to be a good reminder of the good that is the origin of some religious ideals.
Anyhow, I just wanted to share that. I'm glad I had the opportunity to see that, and though my personal beliefs will not likely change because of it, I did appreciate seeing the good in Christianity again. The reason religion exists is because people need God. Not everybody does, and the gods may come in different forms, but in order for some people to find purpose in their life, they need to have this idea of god.
That is all. Time to finish packing! WILMINGTON SOON! :D
Until Monday! (seriously this time)
-Aly
Thursday, March 25, 2010
It's the Americans
Hello!
I am perfectly aware that I haven't posted about Carnaval yet. You can't blame me! I want to do it justice, and by doing it justice, I am including so many details that you should be able to FEEL the excitement pouncing on you from France. Though the 717 pictures to choose from certainly don't hurt. So, WHEN I post it, it will be MASSIVELY LONG and probably take you hours to read. But you don't mind, right?!
This is another one of those real-time blog updates! As usual, I'm posting this about the time that I need to rant about my life here.
As a pretext for this, let me explain that the past two weeks have been rough. We didn't have internet here for a chunk of last week, and I'm an internet junkie (and so is Nathalie), so things here were frustrating. Beyond that, I haven't really done anything with any of my friends here for awhile.
Thus begins the rant.
If you don't know, I'm a very huggy person. I'm one of those annoying people that will hug you for longer than you're used to, and I may even attempt to hug you so hard that you can't breathe. My friends at home are used to this, and happen to be the same way. Even better, I'm so close with them that I can literally lean on them whenever I want (or need) to. Although "hug-training" has gone well (largely thanks to the fact that my friend Nolwenn is a similar huggy-person), I still slip into my normal, hug-addict self with the friends I've become closer to. Unfortunately, I sometimes get the always-fun reaction of people being kind of rude about it-- pushing me away, shrugging me off, or just generally spazzing out. It shouldn't upset me, but it does a little. I become embarrassed, I feel silly, and I feel snubbed. It's just not fun.
That brings me to my second point. I never wanted to see 8th grade again, because I had the worst experience with friends in 8th grade (though I came out of it well enough, with some wonderful friends that I love dearly). I've said before that I love the Frenchies, and they DO prove themselves to be awesome, but it's still not quite THERE. It's not quite there to the point that they make plans in front of me and don't include me in them.
I'd like to pretend that it's because they think I don't understand them, but let's be honest... I've been here for 3 months. It's apparently not rude to invite yourself along (whatwhatwhat?) but I AM SO SOCIALLY AWKWARD and I have warning bells in my head telling me that is a bad idea.
Worse, I don't have the guts to say something when I'm not happy. I don't want to offend somebody (maybe it's normal to only hang out with your family? Uhm, all the time?), or maybe they think I'm doing something (ha!), but it wouldn't hurt to ASK, right? I mean, generally, if you want somebody to be there, don't you just ASK THEM ALONG? Because not being invited me along makes me feel like I couldn't matter less. I'm good for laughs (make me say cuss words in French! it's hilarious! *sarcasm*), but I'm starting to feel like I'm just the "school friend" of too many people.
(I'm still trying though! I AM STILL TRYING. I AM NOT GIVING UP. I'm working on making plans for this weekend, and a few of the more-wonderful Frenchies seem to have picked up on my mood-- Nolwenn, my fellow hug-addict, made a subtle point of giving me bajillions of hugs yesterday. I was feeling particularly glum and I REALLY needed some good hugs. Once school was over, I told Camille about the fact that I was tired of spending so much time alone and can we PLEASE PLEASE plan something for as soon as possible-- and now plans are in the works for this weekend. As well as a few other unexpected-by-still-awesome people picking up on my need for social interaction... it'll be okay.)
That wasn't truly a rant. I guess those are both things you should know (besides the fact that sometimes, I miss home so hard that I want to cry; that's not particularly new, either).
You may not know this, but I've never considered myself to be outstandingly patriotic. I'm an optimist, sure (though I guess you couldn't tell sometimes by the tone of these posts...), but I know that we have a LOT of problems to sort out. Big problems, and less important ones, but problems none-the-less, and so many that I hesitate to claim pride in the country I call home, but haven't felt that GREAT about being a citizen of the US. I have loved France so long-- idealized it; the superior education system, the relaxed attitude about a multitude of things, and of course, the language.
Since being here, I'm still as in love with France as ever (and the language). I wasn't right about all these things (in some of my experiences), but yet... France has something going for it. These people (all of them that I have met)... they ALL seem to love their country. I can't really explain it, but their entire attitude (during the Winter Olympics, for football [the soccer kind], the fact that they all know the national anthem by heart...) just tells me that they are so PROUD to be French. It makes me want to be proud of my country.
But, you guys, it's really hard to be proud of your country when you're in a foreign country where you hear a TEACHER insulting your country to your face while your classmates stare at you. It's really hard to smile and laugh it off, when you're thinking that you don't want to be American if it means being all these horrible things, when you feel the eyes on you and these people you want to like you judging you based on the fact that you happen to be from the US, and you're probably one of the few Americans they've met. It really sucks to be American when you realize that yes, some of the things they say are true, and that maybe-just-possibly-they-believe-these-things-are-true-of-YOU.
This isn't to say the French hate us; in fact, they seem to like us well enough (but they loooove Obama in general, as well as American pop culture)... but some of them seem to blame us for everything wrong in the world. And it is really quite awful to be the subject of such a sentiment. I leave History far too often, after learning something I already know, and hearing yet-another insult about my country, feeling worn down and in desperate need of a hug. I laugh it off, and joke about it, but I still feel the sting of the insult.
Is it too much to ask to be proud of my country? Just once, can't we do something that isn't going to bring about world destruction, or isn't supporting something awful? Is it impossible to recognize that we are NOT THE ONLY country to blame for some international problems (such as Climate Change... did you realize that we are the only country in the world that pollutes?! THE ONLY ONE, YOU GUYS. *more sarcasm*), and that there are worthwhile things that come out of the United States? That maybe we aren't all religious-driven, brain-washing bullies with a twisted mind bent on making everybody else just like us?
I want to be proud to be an American. I know we have problems; but we aren't the only ones. I just don't want to be judged on the stereotypes and mistakes of my country. So, yes, Frenchies, I am an American.
Rant over!
In other news, I have to actually participate in school now. We're starting real Physics in Physique, and it is SO MUCH MORE COMPLICATED HERE. I didn't think that it could make less sense than it did before, but somehow they manage with the simplest concepts of Physics (force diagram! how is that DIFFERENT here?). I've been having to do French tests; my French teacher was surprised to discover that I can write in French, and I think his new goal is to make me write in French verb tenses I don't know as often as possible. I hope it'll work; I'll let you know. I had an English test today-- it was the easiest test ever, and I kind of loved it. Other than the fact that I don't know what the heck a "preterit" is or "irregular verbs" in English (wait, we HAVE those?!?!). I mean, I know the verbs, I just don't know the funky specifics like that-- I've never learned English like this.
Okay, that's all for now!
Hope you guys are doing well, enjoying life, and such!
-Aly
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Honesty
Hello!
If I'm going to be completely and utterly honest here (I am), I haven't been working on the posts from last month. I do have things to share-- little anecdotes of my first weeks of school and life here, my day of awesome with Dad in the mountains, interesting things I've learned-- but I really haven't been working that hard on drafting the posts that will include such things.
For one thing, yes, I am busy. I do have quite a bit of time off, but I fill the time living (this includes time on the computer, because that's part of daily life); I may not always be using my time productively, but as with life everywhere else, life here has its "ups and downs."
Yesterday was definitely one of those days, and I have struggled with similar sentiments periodically since Dad left and throughout the course of this past week. It makes me uncomfortable to admit this, but sometimes I just want to pack up and go home. In those moments, it seems like it would be the easiest solution, but I know (as do you) that it is not. If I come to you in those moments, rant in hand and asking for an internet-hug and tell you that I want to give up, kindly send the hug, listen to the rant, and slap some sense into me.
It's easy to forget when you are alone in a place you're not fully comfortable with that you are there for a purpose, and you aren't as alone as you would like to believe. I have this problem a lot-- sometimes, I am paralyzed and tormented by the thought that I don't really have somebody here that I can completely, effortlessly confide in. I struggle with the separation from people I now realize have been like security blankets: whose company I seek out at any moment when I have a chance, who make me a better person and keep me smiling. This is normal, and I didn't realize it would be quite like that. That's the nature of the thing, though, and recognizing that I have to be my own person is vital.
That isn't to say that I don't have friends here. People I will push away sometimes, or seek out; these friendships are still in the beginning stages where I still don't know that much about each individual, but I consider to be friends all the same. The language barrier is a problem; I can't always understand everything they're talking about, or the context of the conversation. I can't always reply and I am, in fact, quite socially awkward, so placed in a situation where I would have to come up with a topic of discussion where I can actively contribute and is interesting for all participants is something I need to work on. I do want to get to know them better, but I fall short of actually accomplishing this.
What I often forget, though, is that the friends I have here may be experiencing the same thing-- the awkward getting-to-know-you stage where you may not know quite what to say. Just like anywhere else, it's impossible to believe that somebody else will make the effort if you, yourself, do not. The people I count as friends appear to honestly want to be my friend (even if I don't see them all the time)-- people like Corentin and Nadia, who take the same bus as me, Laure, Jean-Paul, both Charlottes, Insaf... and more (listing all the names isn't a good idea, because that's confusing). They are, as previously mentioned, quite patient with my slow French, which is still scattered with English phrases.
Much to my amusement, some of my English phrases have been adopted. It makes me smile to hear them say "Fail"; today on the bus, Corentin said "epic fail", and pronounced it "epique faiiil." Such things make me giggle and want to hug whoever said the phrase because (let's face it), their accents make English words sound ridiculously cute. Similarly, it seems my accent makes some things sound cute to them, too-- I was reading Harry Potter (en français... n'inquiete pas!) very quietly and Insaf informed me of that while Jean-Paul nodded.
I have vacation starting Saturday; lots of French people go skiing, but as far as I know, I'll be in Fréjus for the duration of the break. I will be taking the initiative and trying to make plans with some friends; maybe some exploring is in order, of places I haven't been, such as Marseilles.
I didn't expect for there to be issues within the host family; I didn't expect this, but I try to take it in stride. I'm not new to handling a similar situation, but I feel as though it's not my place to interfere. I tread the line between stranger and family, and as a visitor, I don't want to stir the waters. My issues here ("chez moi", because this is my "home" here, no matter that I still refer to AEU as "home") stem from handling a younger brother that is 11 years old. HE IS ELEVEN, you guys. Eleven-- and I'm seventeen; this doesn't make for peace, as I am residing in his room-- in "his" house-- taking up space he finds familiar and comforting in the same way that I find my space AEU familiar and comforting. Beyond that, the two of us have communication problems as well; he is full of energy and the desire to play that is expected from young boys. I won't hesitate to tell you that sometimes I do not like the kid at all, but I recognize that he is a KID and the problems I have with him are expected and even normal for a younger "sibling".
I'd also mention, that like every time I travel, being here has inspired in me a desire to write and create. I can't face my novel, but I guess nothing will happen to it if I don't sit down and read it. I can't just shrug off my moments of inspiration and my desire to write stories; they won't be written if I don't write them, and it's been too long since I've made any effort to write stories. I want to get back that. If anything, like this blog, it is an exercise in expression and practice for true writing (I do still dream of being an author).
I know this wasn't particularly interesting, but there you have it. Life continues.
♥,
-Aly
If I'm going to be completely and utterly honest here (I am), I haven't been working on the posts from last month. I do have things to share-- little anecdotes of my first weeks of school and life here, my day of awesome with Dad in the mountains, interesting things I've learned-- but I really haven't been working that hard on drafting the posts that will include such things.
For one thing, yes, I am busy. I do have quite a bit of time off, but I fill the time living (this includes time on the computer, because that's part of daily life); I may not always be using my time productively, but as with life everywhere else, life here has its "ups and downs."
Yesterday was definitely one of those days, and I have struggled with similar sentiments periodically since Dad left and throughout the course of this past week. It makes me uncomfortable to admit this, but sometimes I just want to pack up and go home. In those moments, it seems like it would be the easiest solution, but I know (as do you) that it is not. If I come to you in those moments, rant in hand and asking for an internet-hug and tell you that I want to give up, kindly send the hug, listen to the rant, and slap some sense into me.
It's easy to forget when you are alone in a place you're not fully comfortable with that you are there for a purpose, and you aren't as alone as you would like to believe. I have this problem a lot-- sometimes, I am paralyzed and tormented by the thought that I don't really have somebody here that I can completely, effortlessly confide in. I struggle with the separation from people I now realize have been like security blankets: whose company I seek out at any moment when I have a chance, who make me a better person and keep me smiling. This is normal, and I didn't realize it would be quite like that. That's the nature of the thing, though, and recognizing that I have to be my own person is vital.
That isn't to say that I don't have friends here. People I will push away sometimes, or seek out; these friendships are still in the beginning stages where I still don't know that much about each individual, but I consider to be friends all the same. The language barrier is a problem; I can't always understand everything they're talking about, or the context of the conversation. I can't always reply and I am, in fact, quite socially awkward, so placed in a situation where I would have to come up with a topic of discussion where I can actively contribute and is interesting for all participants is something I need to work on. I do want to get to know them better, but I fall short of actually accomplishing this.
What I often forget, though, is that the friends I have here may be experiencing the same thing-- the awkward getting-to-know-you stage where you may not know quite what to say. Just like anywhere else, it's impossible to believe that somebody else will make the effort if you, yourself, do not. The people I count as friends appear to honestly want to be my friend (even if I don't see them all the time)-- people like Corentin and Nadia, who take the same bus as me, Laure, Jean-Paul, both Charlottes, Insaf... and more (listing all the names isn't a good idea, because that's confusing). They are, as previously mentioned, quite patient with my slow French, which is still scattered with English phrases.
Much to my amusement, some of my English phrases have been adopted. It makes me smile to hear them say "Fail"; today on the bus, Corentin said "epic fail", and pronounced it "epique faiiil." Such things make me giggle and want to hug whoever said the phrase because (let's face it), their accents make English words sound ridiculously cute. Similarly, it seems my accent makes some things sound cute to them, too-- I was reading Harry Potter (en français... n'inquiete pas!) very quietly and Insaf informed me of that while Jean-Paul nodded.
I have vacation starting Saturday; lots of French people go skiing, but as far as I know, I'll be in Fréjus for the duration of the break. I will be taking the initiative and trying to make plans with some friends; maybe some exploring is in order, of places I haven't been, such as Marseilles.
I didn't expect for there to be issues within the host family; I didn't expect this, but I try to take it in stride. I'm not new to handling a similar situation, but I feel as though it's not my place to interfere. I tread the line between stranger and family, and as a visitor, I don't want to stir the waters. My issues here ("chez moi", because this is my "home" here, no matter that I still refer to AEU as "home") stem from handling a younger brother that is 11 years old. HE IS ELEVEN, you guys. Eleven-- and I'm seventeen; this doesn't make for peace, as I am residing in his room-- in "his" house-- taking up space he finds familiar and comforting in the same way that I find my space AEU familiar and comforting. Beyond that, the two of us have communication problems as well; he is full of energy and the desire to play that is expected from young boys. I won't hesitate to tell you that sometimes I do not like the kid at all, but I recognize that he is a KID and the problems I have with him are expected and even normal for a younger "sibling".
I'd also mention, that like every time I travel, being here has inspired in me a desire to write and create. I can't face my novel, but I guess nothing will happen to it if I don't sit down and read it. I can't just shrug off my moments of inspiration and my desire to write stories; they won't be written if I don't write them, and it's been too long since I've made any effort to write stories. I want to get back that. If anything, like this blog, it is an exercise in expression and practice for true writing (I do still dream of being an author).
I know this wasn't particularly interesting, but there you have it. Life continues.
♥,
-Aly
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