philosophy

Am I really a Dinosaur?

/ Mel / Leave a comment

(This was a bit stream of consciousness and therefore a tad rambly, apologies for this!)

dinosaur bones

I was late to the blogging game, I fully admit. By the time I got here the days of high profile blogging were already long gone. Meaning that today, in order to get “seen”, you have to exceedingly special or, in some cases, brave, in order to be heard above the crowd. Is it OK to be average? Is that allowed?

I once worked for a woman who constantly reminded me that it was alright to be ordinary. In her view, to underachieve was disrespectful to one’s self, while overreaching expectations could be disrespectful to one’s colleagues. This was difficult for a here-to-fore overachiever to wrap her head around. Wasn’t perfection always the goal? Since when was mediocre ever OK?

While I still don’t fully agree with this “tall-poppy”-ish, zero-sum type stance, I will concede that age has taught me a few things about perfectionism and persistence. Mainly that they are relative to your particular situation, and a few other things:

  1. Perfection does not exist. Full Stop.
  2. Comparison is everyone’s Achilles Heel. Even if it’s comparison with yourself in a different time span.
  3. Persistence will be exhausting. Expect it.
  4. Persistence will (almost) always pay off.
  5. Being “average” but persistent, will usually yield better results than being “perfect” but lethargic.

So here I am, hanging on. In a sea of bloggers, all vying for our voices to be heard. Me, without any videos or fancy fonts. Thinking average thoughts and writing about mediocre things. An average middle aged woman with an average day job and an average family.

And I am SO grateful for all of these things (including my lovely readers)!

Am I really a dinosaur (i.e. old and irrelevant)? Probably, but I am learning to see these wrinkles as the reward for a life of effort.

Thanks for listening, stay cozy!

Grateful

/ Mel / 5 Comments

Annoyance

One night last week I got home from work to find my home much cooler than usual. I searched the house for open windows and, after finding none, proceeded to play with the thermostat. Minutes passed, the house maintained its chilly demeanor, and the fans that should bring in warm air from the furnace refused to clicked on.

cabin in snow

Courtesy of Pixabay

At first, I was angry. I thought perhaps the gas company had erroneously turned off our service, or maybe the household accountant had forgotten to pay the bill? It was a near-freezing evening and I had a small child in the house. I was irritable and slightly furious at the thought of my poor little one freezing through the night.

I managed to reign in my anger, and my interaction with the gas company phone representative was actually quite pleasant and productive. I wrapped up my son in layers of pajamas and a few blankets, and the gas company sent out someone the next day to solve our furnace issue. Our house is apparently well insulated as the temperature actually only got down to about 64 degrees F inside.

Elsewhere

Fast forward a week, and on my way to work I was listening to the BBC radio crew discuss what is happening in the Congo right now. I was awestruck and dumbfounded by what I heard. The displacement of more than 1.7 million people? The stories were heart wrenching and almost unbearable to listen to; kids starving and dying, families literally ripped apart.

I recall being a teenager and learning about the Rwandan genocide. I remember, then too, being gob smacked by the images and the accounts of tragedy. I felt so helpless about it, and I found myself, for a while, constantly wondering what could be done. The same is true decades later during the recent civil war in Syria.

Although I do attempt to educate myself about politics, I’m afraid I am no expert in foreign affairs and I do not claim to understand the circumstances by which any of these conflicts have taken place. There are much more intelligent people out there who can understand and explain that part so much better than myself.

What I do recognize, is the humanity.

When I stop for a moment and try to put myself in the shoes of someone who has just lost literally everything (granted, I understand that I can never really know how someone feels or thinks), I feel my soul ache. I begin to see the gaping yawn of hopelessness, and I still can’t imagine experiencing it real life, rather than from the safety of my pretend perspective.

africa

Courtesy of Pixabay

This is not a movie. This is not a story. This is happening in real life, to real people.

I tend to believe that life exists on a knife’s edge as it is. However, when confronted with the pictures and reports of what some of these people have experienced, I feel that knife getting thinner and thinner.

(What’s the best way to help? I’m not sure yet, but if I can, I will.)

Meanwhile, I get frustrated with my electric kettle because I need to get to work. I need coffee now, and 2 minutes just seems too long to wait.

My car is starting to show its age and recently the automatic door locks have stopped working, which means I now have to reach across the passenger’s seat in order to allow entry for a fellow traveler. Not that I carry passengers in my “work” car often, but it is annoying all the same…

…until I remind myself of what others are dealing with.

So, what am I grateful for?

So much.

I am grateful for the kind and decent human beings of the world who are working to help the people in places like the Congo, Rwanda, and Syria. They are heroes. I am hoping that they can forge a way for peaceful resolutions and avoid further catastrophe.

I am grateful for the place I was born. No country is perfect and I certainly would not contend that mine is, but I have had rights and opportunities opened to me here that I may not have had in other places. I live in a place that allowed me to get an education and give my son a more secure childhood than I had. Sometimes I contemplate chance itself and the fact that I could have been born anywhere, perhaps into great wealth, but most likely into even greater poverty.

It is complete happenstance that I ended up where I am, and it is a privilege to live my life for this reason alone.

beach heart

Courtesy of Pixabay

I am most grateful for the people I have had the honor and privilege of knowing.

My husband: He is an idealist. He is the one who reminds me what the best qualities of human beings are. And he makes me laugh. Considering my relative hermitage, outside of work, he is the one I could be around 24/7.

My son: The kind of care I have for my child is like no other I have felt before. I never thought I could move mountains; I’m still not sure can, but now I’m willing to try.

My mother: Though her life was cut short, her sensibilities continue to inform my daily decision-making. Her compassion inspires me to have love for people everywhere. She used to keep this Maya Angelou quote on her refrigerator (and she lived by it):

“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

My father: He is a brilliant man. We don’t always see eye-to-eye, but he challenges me to see and appreciate different perspectives. He is sweet and benevolent, in his own way.

My grandparents: The glue of our family, the people who gently and consistently keep tabs on their children and grandchildren. They have raised more children than they asked for, with love, kindness, and grace.

My friends: I only have a few close ones, and they live very different lives from myself, but they are people whom I trust implicitly. I do my best to be worthy of such alliances.

You: I am still flabbergasted that anyone would be interested in what I have to say out here on the web. I am so grateful to all the folks who have read anything here on Cozy and Sage. I am thankful for all the connections that I have made here in the blogging community as well. Thank you for being part of this relatively new and exciting writing journey!

Wishing all peace and warmth; stay cozy!

*This post was inspired by, and written for, The Blessed Project by Susie Lindau. Thanks so much for hosting this wonderful project, Susie! 

The New American Dream, Part 2: Status Symbol

/ Mel / 7 Comments

pocket watch, sands of time

Many of us are products of the 80’s and 90’s and can recall some of the items that were popular back then. Certain shoes, cars, and electronic gadgets were considered a sign of wealth and social status (or good credit) at that time. Owning things brought prestige and envy, especially amongst peers and colleagues. The phrase “he who dies with the most toys, wins” was coined.

Fast forward twenty-five years, through 3 recessions, a housing bubble, the healthcare crisis, and crippling student debt. In each case, we have learned something about handling money (or how not to handle it). We have also been awakened to the fact that the economy in most countries, but perhaps particularly the United States, is a living, breathing thing. It is a beast that can both make and ruin people, financially and otherwise, as it waxes and wanes.

For most of us though, through all of the perambulations of the market, there has been the constant of employment. A vocation to pull us out of our student loan obligations and afford accommodations whether they be our own, or rented from someone else. Work, a perceived cornerstone of our nation, and something that we are all taught to pursue passionately. After all, where would all our “things” come from without some form of paid occupation?

flea market stuff

Not to mention that those “things” come with costs aside from their purchase price. It can be alarming to consider that everything you own, you are still paying for (hence, the idea of being “owned” by the objects one has acquired). Ultimately, any “thing” that you possess requires some type of residence, whether that be your abode, a storage unit, or your parents’ house (although those costs may be more intrinsic), and this will usually be something that you have to pay for. These items have physical costs too, such as some form of maintenance, or, at the very least, the time and effort it would require to rid yourself of them.

So, we toil for someone else in order to acquire possessions, we continue to work in order to pay for the said items’ housing and maintenance, and oftentimes must physically use or care for an item to keep it operational. While we usually look at this equation in terms of monetary cost, it could be argued that the largest and most valuable expenditure here is not of dollars, but of time.

wristwatch

Although it’s true that we all get at least some time, it is lamentable that we don’t always get to spend it the way in which we desire. Those fortunate enough to have surplus wealth, however, get the side benefit of utilizing their hours as they choose, rather than for another’s cause.

Accordingly, having “free” time has become a sign of wealth and means. This could be true either because the owner actually has a healthy income, or simply because they are adept at budgeting, and choose time over objects. In any case, the freedom that an individual has due to their possession of spare moments is becoming associated with greater social status, rather than ineptness, as had been the stigma in decades past.

clock tower

Now that seemingly everyone is operating on someone else’s schedule, those that are allowed to function according to their own agenda are seen as the new elite, having escaped the so-called “rat race.” The value of currency is becoming more associated with its ability to grant chronological freedom than the accumulation of commodities. Time, and the freedom to dictate it, are becoming the new signs of prestige, in a nation that has brandished its 40 hour work week as an ideal for so long.

*This article is the second of the New American Dream series.

Stay cozy!

The Perfect Day

/ Mel / 3 Comments

It would begin with a long, luxurious bath, followed by a full hour of applying lotions and potions, and a mini manicure. I would look something like Ashley Judd after all this and my outfit would be a quintessential blend of expensive and luxurious, a study of sophistication in dress. I would then be whisked away by my husband to a posh restaurant downtown for a fancy brunch with friends. Parking and traffic would not be problems, and the morning would be a blur of cerebral conversation intermixed with lots of laughing. Later that day, I would fix an early dinner of superb culinary quality, and my family would extol the virtues of such a meal. There would be no tantrums, no exhaustion, no worries about the next day, or regrets about the previous, and we would all get to bed on time.

sunset

Then I wake up.

My work days are chaotic just by the nature of my business, this I have come to accept, but I can get really frustrated by not being able to “control” my days off. There is no such thing as the perfect day, it does not (cannot?) exist. At least it cannot be allowed to subsist as long as I rigidly hang on to my expectations. I find sometimes that clinging to a preconceived notion of how my day “should” progress can cause me more angst than not.

These are the concepts that can help keep me on an even keel and discover the joy in my day, especially when my spoiled, OCD brain is fixated on particular outcomes.

Plan for Alternative Outcomes

Try to plan ahead for a few of the most plausible alternative outcomes. Bring snacks for your small child in case of traffic. Organize an easy dinner option for if and when you get home late. Come up with a different brunch option just in case there’s a closure or a line.

You can’t plan for everything, but there are probably a couple of likely hiccups possible in any arrangement; try to stay prepared for the most conceivable deviations.

Find the Good

Try to suspend expectation if you can. This allows you to experience the moments more fully and appreciate the good that does happen. It’s always prudent to make a plan, but not allowing for variation from a predetermined goal can rob you of the meaningful, brilliant bits that happen whether you are focused on them or not.

If you can’t concentrate on the positive in the moment, it may be helpful to create a gratitude journal and attempt to recapture the pleasurable activities of the day after the fact.

Accept Reality

Bad things do happen, by any one’s standards; sometimes there is no silver lining and no way to justify an outcome. Some of us have a tendency to “go back” and try to sniff out the ways that we “could have” altered an event or instance. This, I have found, is a dangerous game. For one, allowing yourself to feel guilt over something you were not accountable for is soul killing. This practice also implies that you have more power, and therefore more responsibility, than you actually do.

When bad things happen, grieve the moment (depending on the severity), and try to move on. Most loathsome incidences of the day-to-day variety don’t need to be dwelled upon, as doing so doesn’t change the past, and only hijacks your future contentment.

breakfast toast

What, no croissant? Still delish!

Maybe the day didn’t go exactly as planned, perhaps milk was spilled, or the delivery was delayed, etcetera. Try not to let the small issues of the day decrease your joy. Attempt to concentrate on what is going right, and let the problems go. Guilt and cynicism, while common in our current culture, don’t accomplish anything, and they can sap your energy and undermine your goals.

How do you stay happy and mentally flexible? Wishing you all an as-close-to-perfect-as-possible day!

Stay cozy!

Late Summer Harvest

/ Mel / 2 Comments

Recently, my family and I went on a quick trip a little south to see family and friends. We had such a wonderful time just visiting, playing in a local park, and enjoying some home cooking from my grandmother. It was an idyllic weekend in many ways and for many reasons, not the least of which was my own ability to “suspend,” if you will, my troubles for a bit (not a small feat for someone so organically neurotic). I allowed myself a little break from the anxieties of work and the world, and just enjoyed my cherished loved ones.

While we were there, we visited a farm and bought some fresh peaches, and picked various vegetables from my grandparents’ garden. I was reminded of the beauty of a late summer harvest and the bounty that benevolently cared for ground can produce. Every time I go back there, and stand amongst the vines and the leaves, I feel a little closer to the earth, terra firma, home. I feel, for a moment, like I am finally focused on what truly matters, the essentials: food, shelter, and above all, family and friends.

late summer fruit and vegetable harvest

Late summer fruit and vegetable harvest

It is always a bit of a shock to me when I realize how much of brain is normally consumed with concerns that are so artificial and have very little to do with real life. I then realize that I am quietly angry at the ten thousand things that vie for my time, attention, and money, on the most mediocre of my days. Ten thousand things that seem to stretch far and wide and yet have no real bearing nor genuine interest in my life.

I allow it to happen to me though; it’s not the fault of those nameless, faceless, and yet omniscient entities, it’s mine. I let myself become distracted and distressed by events and persons who happen to be half a world away, beyond my physical and perhaps intellectual grasp. I am NOT one who enjoys feeling powerless about situations, even if they be a million leagues afar and property (or fault) of someone else.

However, I also cannot solve all the problems or atone for all the situations that may ravage the globe. I simply am not capable of, nor would I be proficient at, as a single human being, carrying all the sorrows of the world. Mine is to do my little part, help where I can, and carry on.

It is a hard pill to swallow at times, realizing just how small and insignificant I might be.

And yet, there in my grandparents’ garden, it is a comfort to be touching the grass with my toes and devouring the sweetest of plums under one of the many apple trees, observing my young, beautiful son play in the yard. To feel the abatement of worry, and the arousal of our most basic senses seems like a tiny vacation to me. I have left my smart phone inside, ringer off, and I don’t miss it for once. I wish to recede from the world and become “smallish”, if only for a moment or so.

If restricting my world to the very simplest of pleasures for a weekend makes me happier, what does that say about the manner in which I generally run my life? What does it say about whom and what I let into it? How did I let it go this far? And how do I re-center myself and my life in what seems more real?

I’m not sure about the precise logistics yet, but I’m working on it…

late summer fruits and vegetables 2

Late summer harvest

Other than the peaches (which were from a stand), the other produce was plucked from either my grandparents’ garden, or the garden of a nearby friend, and gifted to us before our return home. They were all succulent and delicious! I hope y’all get to enjoy some of the season’s best!

Ever so much thanks to our friends and family for a lovely weekend, and a minor resurrection of my humanness.

Stay hominid, stay cozy.

It’s Never Too Soon…

/ Mel / Leave a comment

It’s never too soon to start curating your life. That is something I wish I would have known eons ago. It’s taken almost (but not quite) four decades to figure out how much the path I took as a young person could affect me now.

flowers on table

We all have to make tough decisions as we grow and blossom out of adolescence. I always attempted to be careful and measured as I tiptoed toward adulthood. I kept my eyes on my work and my family; these are the core of my being and I have no regrets about this.

Yet, I also spent a lot of time accumulating things and experiences and education, being open to so many opportunities that at times I felt overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by ideas and various visons of what my life could be, but never being able to spend much time on contemplation. I understand that a lot of people laud the idea of being so willing to participate in, well, everything. I want to support this concept also, nevertheless…in hindsight, I see the value of curation.

Curating your life makes reference to thinking in future terms about not just the big things (work, kids, parents, etc.), but also the small things, i.e. the kind of things that make up a day. It takes great foresight in your teens and twenties to imagine what you will wish your daily routine to look like as you approach middle age. Will you be part of the “rat race”? Will you escape it? How will you spend your free time? Will you have any of it?

These are things that conceivably no one can truly grasp in their early years and perhaps there will always exist so many elements of chance that we may never get a true sense for what our coming years will be like until we get there. Though, it would be nice to think we have some control over it all, right?

So, I would suggest perhaps, to the younger generations…consider yourself as an older individual if you can, just for a little while. Consider what you want out of a single day in that life. Attempt to spend some thought and effort on the path to such a life.

Then, I implore you, go back to enjoying every sweet and agonizing moment of your youth, just do so with a plan.

Be well, and stay cozy.

 

 

Bad Day…

/ Mel / Leave a comment

Today was a bad day, a really bad day. Today was the kind of day that defined the term “put through a meat grinder.” By the time I got home my feet were sore and my head was both throbbing and exhausted. I had one of those rare moments when I began to question what I was doing with my professional life and considering a job change (which there is absolutely nothing wrong with, if you have the right reasons).

I work in a small office. We work very closely in an intense environment for sometimes 12 hours a day. Dealing with life and death, really.

Today was a day when things were going wrong personally and/or professionally for almost all of my coworkers. The day was filled with tragedies, both real and imagined. A mood crept over us all, one of desperation and hopelessness. I understand how dramatic this description sounds, but some of these people are going through really terrible things.

After I got home and tried to ready myself for the transition from work life to family life, I realized something. Nothing terrible was happening to me. Not to say that I haven’t had my fair share of despair in life, boy oh boy. But today, nothing was going terribly wrong for me, personally.

Except for maybe the fact that I am what some people refer to as a “highly sensitive person”, or “HSP” for short. I’m not going to go into particulars here, but I will tell you that the reason I think MY day turned out so awful was because I tend to empathize rather than sympathize. Mind you, I do not at all believe that we can EVER really know how someone else experiences anything. But for whatever reason, other peoples’ sadness can be quite contagious for me. Am I the only one like this? Maybe, maybe not.

Below is a short list of things I have found to be helpful when the world just seems wrong.

Stop

Just for a moment if you can, give yourself a break. I find that simply being able to stop doing a task for a short time allows me to feel that I have some control.

Breathe

No really, this has got to be one of the most highly underrated coping strategies ever. Take a big, long, deep breath. Feel your lungs fill with air, straighten your back, and let your shoulders fall.

Learn to Sympathize

Unfortunately, there are dreadful things that happen in the world. It’s easy (especially for some of us) to feel like the world is hopeless, especially when interacting with individuals who are facing life’s biggest and baddest obstacles. Learn to give the appropriate condolence and help each other where you can, but try not to “absorb” other people’s sorrow. If you need justification, know that people who are experiencing terrible things often need strong people around them. You can’t be strong when you’re feeling their misery for them.

Take Care of Yourself

It sounds trite, but it’s true. It’s a great deal more possible for anyone (HSP or not) to lose control of their emotions and mood when their basic needs aren’t being met. Water, food, rest, and a safe environment for yourself should be high on your priority list.

Hope this is helpful. Stay cozy.