What Is Love?

"Love isn't about words,

I'm full of words, I'm a writer, I'm made of words.

Love is more than that.

Love is devotion.

Unplanned, unsaid, unselfish, and unexplained.

Nothing should be of more importance than your happiness to me.

And it isn't.

I am unquestioningly devoted to you."

And that is how I feel, every single day.

Even though I must remain anonymous.

I shall not remain so here.

The Contemplations of an Insomniac

I put my head to the pillow knowing it will be another night turned day
Fueled continuously by frustration with the unknown and unknowable
A struggle with the absurd, with apathy and ignorance
-Particularly my own
How can I sleep when there are so many things I don't yet know
A universe of truths I can't even comprehend

I build a nighttime library
Embroidered in the endless wisdom and ignorance of read
Leading only to more questions
Suffocating with the inability to sort truth from perspective
Frustrated with a humbling insecurity that pushes even me to complacency

And for a moment I don't know why I try
I will never achieve the forms, the tirade of questions will never end
But is this not the point of life?
Perpetually striving?

Beat driven, a tune that never ends
Replicated lives across the globe, enough distance to make them unique
And yet, so terribly alone
The solitary shadow of a philosopher struggles to find her place
An era, a city, a community of her own
A place so in-tune with her head and ideals that she can shut out the decrepitude of life outside the bubble
Maybe then she will sleep.

But for now, I am unable to shut off my own voices
A chorus of cacophony, where a single voice cannot be discerned
Consciousness isn't so much a conversation with oneself, but an argument with many selves

These are just snippets of ideas
Always short fragments of something larger
Something greater
But she can't yet see how the puzzle turns out
Though she's beginning to see the outline of the picture

Maybe that's what growing up is--seeing the truth for what it really is
Or maybe that's just another idea she'll grow to discard
Already too, too old to be this young
Too young and indignant to abhor the mindless repetition of the absurd
Hoping this contrast will illuminate the Good
Yearning to be able to create the beauty that she can see
A bumbling force for entropy

The sun's morning rays mock her sacred ambiguity
And as the safe seclusion of night disappears, her memories fade
Dripping like soft pebbles of sand through her open hands
All that remains are the scattered thoughts she committed to written words.

Peace To You

The Peace of Wild Things

Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Open & Honest

Many people look at me and wonder why I do not have many friends. I have even asked myself this same question while I was growing up. People used to and still do look down on me because of it. The friends I have had never appreciated me, they pegged me for advice, wanted me to pull them out of jams, used me as a shoulder, etc. I am happy to be that person for the people I care about. Even for complete strangers, I am comfortable in that role, it is a natural fit for me, always has been. Do not get me wrong, I love them all dearly, but to give, give, and get nothing in return is difficult. Therefore, my way of dealing with this is to limit the number I have. I could have a million relationships with people and call them friends, but they are just empty promises. Promises not to be there when I am sad or when I need a shoulder.

When my Grandma died, all the "friends" I thought I had, left. Apparently, the situation was too intense, too touchy to stick around. I get it, I really do. Death is not a fun situation to deal with. Since then, I have withheld from forming any close relationships. Mostly for my own protection, mostly out of fear. Not only did I lose my best friend to the rarest form of cancer (yes that is significant), but I also lost the only person I trusted completely. That was hard. It would be hard for anyone. I am not singling myself out for that. To lose that so suddenly, though, on top of all the other people in my life, was most difficult. It only added to the stress of the situation.

Every day and night for 3 months, I took care of her. I averaged in that time, maybe an hour of continuous sleep a night, if that, and no, I am not being drastic or exaggerating. It was draining, physically and emotionally. However, truth be told, it was the most important thing I have ever, or will ever, do with my life.

At the viewing and funeral, my mom and dad, aunt and uncle, brother, and cousins had all their friends there for support. I stood there empty inside, as the people I called friends slowly trickled off in the 3 months leading up to her death. I put on a brave face for my family. Shaking hands of crying strangers, acknowledging what "they" lost. The viewing was 5 hours long, a continuous line of visitors, and I swear I never want to hear “I’m sorry” ever again. My policy has become, if you don’t break my heart, kill my dog, insult someone in my family, or punch me in the face, you have nothing to apologize for. I took the role of the eldest grandchild, which was expected of me. I did this because I knew it was a time to celebrate my Grandma, time for other people’s grief. After that day I put mine on hold. I had promised her the night before she died, while I was sitting with her, rubbing her back like an ill child, that I would take care of my family. I would keep us together, that we would all be okay, that I would make sure of it. I promised her that.

Somehow, since then, my life has taken a back seat to emotion, to grief, to confusion. After that, I lost whatever grip over my emotions I had. Scrambling, confused, uncertain, but mostly scared. Since then, I have been emotionally raw. Unpredictable, stressed, grieving, I suppose. Mostly stuffing that grief, or so I have been told. I was also told that this method is not healthy, but I do it without awareness.

I used to pride myself in my ability to be rational, never letting emotion get in the way. Ever. Emotion is irrational, so, I never succumbed to it. And if I did, I did it privately for an hour and was done with it. Now, things have changed for me. I am emotional. I am raw. I will be the first to admit. I jump to conclusions; I make assumptions that I should not. I know this, I can see myself doing it, but I cannot stop it. I do not know how to be an emotional person, and I have not learned how to keep them in check.

Fear, anger, love, attraction, guilt, apprehension, trust, are now all things that scare the hell out of me. I wish to banish them, but they will not go away. When I am hurt, when I am scared, I resort to a person I do not know or understand. I am not making excuses; rather, realizing and accepting outwardly that I do not know how to handle them. Trust me, I personally am a very mature individual. If you knew me, really knew me, you would know the experiences I have dealt with in my life have made me grow up very quickly from an early age. However, I am immature with my feelings and my emotions. I know I am. I hate it more than anything, but it's who I am now. I will not apologize for it; I will not make excuses, either. It is just how it is until I can figure everything out, until I can learn how to deal with my grief.

Grief, what a nasty little word that is. It has transformed my life over the last year. Not in a bad way, per se. It has just changed me. As has losing someone whom I was so close to. All the people who have met me “since” then have been wonderful. I have learned to trust again, to an extent. As soon as I let my guard down, though, I get hurt. This is why I am still very guarded. Especially when I have a hard day, like today, where I miss my Grandma to a painful extent.

When something reminds me of her, a picture, an event, a video, a memory, a smell, a dream, I become emotionally raw. It is not something I am proud of, but it happens. On days such as these I lose my maturity, I lose my self-assurance, I act like a kid. On these days, I am not fun to be around. I have the ability to freak out and lose my head. I read into things, I over analyze, I over react. Jokes that may have been funny yesterday, deeply hurt me on other days. If you are close to me, you will know this. You will recognize it right away if you look for it.

Today was one of those hard days. I found a video I had made on this date a year ago of my Grandma that I had not seen. It showed her at a time right before things went downhill, and for some reason, I lost it. I didn't cry, I was just whole-heartedly sad. A pain weighed on my heart the whole day and I avoided having conversations. I couldn't even talk to my mom. Seclusion is the only way for me to deal with this. I understand that I need to reach out, but that vulnerability scares me. I don't know how to fix it. I don't know if I trust anyone enough yet to ask for help.

This, I will apologize for, the rash behavior. One of the bad things about being guarded and protective of my feelings is when I am not “fine”; people think I am a cruel or mean person. I promise, I am not. My true colors shine when someone I love is in need. Have you ever had a day where you just said, “screw the world”? Should we all be entitled to them occasionally? I think so.

From Good Friday until my birthday, I will guarantee that my emotions will be on the fritz. I cannot help it. Especially in this first year after her death. The “firsts” are the hardest. And until May 21^st, everything is a first for me. Whom I trust, whom I talk to, what I talk about, how I react, what I say, how I feel, what choices I make, all these things are new and different for me. For this, all I can ask is a little leeway. Hang tight until June 9^th. It will not be an entirely rocky road, but there will be days when I am extremely sad and overly emotional. I will apologize for them now, but, I warn you, I probably won’t own up to them until the next day. I get so clouded with emotion and frustration and anger that I can’t see or think clearly. When this happens, I tend to stay away from people, but sometimes this is unavoidable.

I am not writing this to a person, I am not writing this towards an event, although those have influence, certainly. Things have opened my eyes and I have been thinking about writing this down for some time. I am writing this as a collective “sigh” to everyone. A collective outreach to anyone who knows how hard dealing with the firsts is. This is a collective sharing. Something that is extremely rare for me.

To those whom I have the privilege of calling friend, I love you. All of you. I know it has and will be a rocky road, but thank you for sticking by me on this journey. Thank you for showing me that life goes on after death. That through people, through friends, through family, grief and the pain of losing someone is lessened.

If you are a new friend, I hope this has left you with a better understanding of me. Someday things will be semi-normal. Someday, hopefully soon, I will learn to better talk about my feelings, some day I will trust people to listen, to understand, to notice the signs and to be there for me, and not run away, as did those a year ago. Someday I will be able to trust the people in my life with my feelings, but that is not today.

If I have shared with you, if I have confided in you, if I have told you I trust you, if I have told you I love you, feel honored, because I mean it whole-heartedly. I don’t say things like that very often. You are one of few, I promise you that. If I have not, it is nothing personal, I still value everything you give to me as a friend and hope to grow with you in friendship. All I ask is for a little patience, a little understanding, a little faith. If I have been there for you during a hard time, if you care about me, please hold onto that person on bad days.

I love you all. You know who you are.

Quote of the Day:

"At the end of the day, when it comes down to it, all we really want is to be close to somebody. We pick and choose who we want to remain close to, and once we've chosen those people, we tend to stick close by. No matter how much we hurt them, the people that are still with you at the end of the day - those are the ones worth keeping. And sure, sometimes close can be too close. But sometimes, that invasion of personal space, it can be exactly what you need."

Lyric of the Day:

"Anchors away, I can't promise you that everything will be okay. All I can say, is when the water comes, so will the horizon."

Just Some Poems

When I think of you,

Tears fill my eyes

I miss what we once had,

I feel a piece of me is missing,

That piece is you.

You were so close to me,

I counted on you every day

We laughed, and loved,

And now it feels like it's all gone away

Not that piece of me is missing,

I sorely do miss it.

I search, but do not find.

I would do anything to again be whole,

To again have you in my life,

To laugh with you,

To hug you,

To tell you once more,

I love you.

________________

Never-ending on beginning,

Oh an ever-spinning reel

Like a snowball down a mountain,

Or a carnival balloon

Like a carousel that's turning

Running rings around the moon

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping

Past the minutes on its face

And the world is like an apple

Spinning silently in space

Like the circles that you find

In the windmills of your mind.

What's In A Name?

In writing an email to a friend of mine this...eveni...morning...I had a thought.  And when Elise gets thoughts that are not crap, she writes them in this lovely little blog.  Do not ask me why, but that's just how things work these days.  Oh, and Elise also refers to herself in the third person, just to clarify that.

Anywho, I was thinking, I guess, as I finished off the email with my "signature", do we really become our names?  Now, don't laugh, this came to me at 3:30 in the morning.  I looked at it, my eyes lulling me to sleep, and said, am I an Elise?  First of all, what the heck is an Elise?  You look at it, ponder some, (or maybe that's just a little indigestion from dinner), so you're pondering, and thinking, hmm that word looks odd.  Foreign, maybe.  Well, I am odd, I suppose, you should ask me about my sleeping habits; and depending on which person you're asking, I might be foreign.  That's a bit of an odd rational, I know, but stay with me.  So, odd and foreign, possibly, but what else?

My name wasn't always as, for lack of a better word, understood as it is becoming today.  What can I say, I've shot it to stardom, or something like that.  But back in the day, when I was wee tot, I had a funny name that nobody, and by nobody, I mean no-frickin'-body knew how to say.  Adults thought it was pretty once they were corrected (or maybe they just felt dumb for getting a five letter word wrong), nevertheless, I spent the better part of my childhood enunciating my name.  Eh, who am I kidding, my Humanities teacher still says it wrong every time he calls on me, I just no longer care enough to correct people who get it wrong now.  Anyway, back to the tale, so after that was clarified (then anyway) Uh-lee-ce (for those still unsure) I had to explain why the heck my parents named me that.  It went a little something like this:  "Blah, blah, blah, Somewhere In Time, oh never heard of it?  Me either.  Apparently the lady from Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman was in it with Superman.  My mom was pregnant with me when they went to see it, and apparently decided that she should be my namesake, I don't know, your guess is as good as mine, so can I go play at recess now?"

Yeah, something like that.  Isn't that cool?  I mean, being named after a love story and everything?  I'm just feelin' the love.  Ok, back to the story again, they'd tell me it was a grown up name, and how pretty it was.  I just smiled and rolled my eyes (only on the inside though), and said thanks.  

Hey - I knew I was cool, not everybody gets a song written Fur them by Beethovan.  So, back to topic, have I become my name?  I'm not sure.  I like it though, it's unique, I don't think it rolls off the tongue very well, so I guess if you know me, you have to think about me before you say the name.  That's kind of cool I guess.  I think the name is rather pretty in a sense, elegant perhaps, and, I'm pretty sure I'm not elegant, so maybe that doesn't fit.  I don't know, when I look in the mirror, I don't see Elise, I see me.  When you look at me, who do you see?  Elise?  Or just that girl over there who has a funny name?  Well, like I said when I was younger, your guess is as good as mine.

P.S.  If you've never seen the movie, it is actually quite beautiful and romantic. Very simple filmography, minus the traveling in back in time thing, but a real delight.  I'd recommend it, made me cry, and I don't really do the crying because of movies thing.  I adore Jane Seymore, and she was ravishing in that movie.  I actually just got around to watching it this summer, only took me twenty-one years to do so, funny, right?

Song of the Day:  

"I Want Something That I Want" - Grace Potter & Bethany Joy Galeotti

Lyrics of the Day: 

"Everyday my dreams will get bigger

Then I hear there's nothing

I can dream hasn't been dreamt before

So I water my little faith

And hope for the better"

-Then Slowly Grows: Bethany Joy Galeotti

Brain Drain; Snuggle Fest

She has my heart!!

My bestest!!

I have decided, as it is 5:24 in the morning and I have been awake for 25 hours now, that this weekend shall consist of nothing that will require me to think extensively.  While I love my classes, and my professors (truly I do!), and will not complain about anything school related (I am, in fact, paying to torture myself) but to put it honestly, my brain hurts to think at this moment in time.  One can only projectile vomit so much information in one day, let alone one whole week of it.  Therefore, I have earned a rest.

Now, I am one who loves to think, to ponder, hell I even have intellectual conversations with myself in order to write them down for future pondering.  I realize this sounds ridiculous, however, listen to a few of my friends speak for more than five minutes and you will understand.  I used to have these discussions with my Grandma, or my mother.  Well, you know about my Grandma, and my mom is too busy to entertain me for longer than five minutes.  All is well though.  And, just for the record, if any of my friends are reading this, I of course A. deny having said anything of the sort and B. am not talking about you.

I am just joshing everyone, I adore my friends.  Although, none of them likely read this so, that is their loss.  Yes, the joys of friendship, taking the good with the bad, along with everything else they can throw at me.  My life, to sum it up briefly, is full of the utmost contradictions.  Seriously.  I sat down one evening with a pen and a journal (quite a pretty looking, glossy black one I might add) and wrote some 45 pages of things in my life that contradict each other.  I love it, ask to read it someday if you are in my room, you will be entertained, promise.

I must cut this entry short, I apologize, but I must sleep.  I'm looking forward to a day full of puppy loving tomorrow, or rather, in a few hours.  Yes, my Lexi; she seems to barely tolerate my obsessive loving and snuggling and kissing on her while I am home.  She would deny it fully and faithfully if you ever asked her, but she misses me when I'm gone, she doesn't fool me.

P.S.  Yes I realize that my colors of purple change from post to post.  I either forget which one I used previous, that which is my favorite (because I like so much purple!), or I like to mix it up a little bit, keep you on your toes.  You will never know which it is.  : )

Happiness?

I have often wondered what people seek when they believe what they want is happiness or love.  To define happiness is something that is indefinable, in my opinion.  It is said in terms of many things, but to each their own.  To each person, happiness is only understood from their own heart.  Many people will try to tell you this or that is wrong, or that isn't really happiness, or you aren't supposed to feel that when doing such and if you perceive it as happiness, you are screwed up.  Now, before we think - murder - or anything crazy like that, let's digress back.  Anyway, to expect a shared sense of happiness is to find another who has touched your heart.  While the heart is associated with love, what is to say that it can't be synonymous with happiness as well?  All emotions are associated with the brain, of course, however, when you feel what it is to be in love or to be truly happy, you feel it elsewhere.  And this deferred sensation spreads warmth and tranquility throughout the body.

To know happiness is to be in touch with oneself.  To know love, you must be able to love yourself first.  So many people believe that the love of another will make them whole, but I do not agree.  If  you are able to love yourself then, and only then can you really appreciate the love of another.  I think that's why this society has so many divorces and so much unhappiness.  We are slammed with ideas of the perfect wedding, of TV shows like the Bachelor, of ideas that we are never enough with magazines and medicine for every little thing.  I think we've lost the idea that loving oneself is just as important as loving another.  After all, how can we know what loving another feels like if we do not have love for ourselves?

Once this personal acceptance occurs, it is possible to recognize the ability to find your inner happiness in someone else.  The beauty of love is that is transcends all and it knows all.  It knows pain, but forgives, it knows compassion, kindness, worry, doubt, joy, peace, trust, calmness; to know all of these gives us as individuals an opportunity to learn.  In learning we associate good things to happiness.  In loving another there is a great risk of heartache or of failure, but with that great risk, the serendipitous possibility of finding it is practically overpowering.

Sometimes, however, I believe that people seek out the wrong thing when they say they are looking for happiness.  This is because happiness is not a "thing" or and "action".  Rather, it is something that must come from inside.  If you are not in touch with your inner self, if you do not love yourself, your concept of happiness will never be fulfilled.  I believe we make our own heaven and we also have the ability to make our own hell.  Those individuals seek to find things to replace that hell, saying it is happiness they lack, however, is this true?  It's a frame of mind; there are things that bring happiness, of course, and understanding these things help to bring our paths closer to happiness.  

For example, what is to understand the beauty of a lullaby from a mother's heart?  What is it to understand a sunset?  We can see the sunset, and we can hear a lullaby, but to understand them you must search deep inside yourself and understand what those things bring to your own happiness.  

For me, sunrises and sunsets are beautiful.  The universe opens and closes a new day with beauty, and that gives me hope.  No matter how horrible things can be in one day, look outside and see that the day ends with something beautiful.  It also brings a sense of stability, like the stars or the mood or the sun.  No matter how scary or crazy or stressful a day can be the moon is always out at night, the stars always flicker, the sun rises with beauty and the day is closed with the beauty of a sunset.  I understand that part of myself, why I love them, and I enjoy each and every one of them every day, they bring me happiness, because I've taken the time to understand what they mean to me.  Also, for me, whenever I hear You Are My Sunshine or My Favorite Things, I always am taken back to falling asleep while my mom sung them to me.  While I've sought to find copies of those songs to have now, none of them ever compare to my mom's voice late at night.  There was just something about her touch as I was falling asleep, and her voice in song that comforted me.  The way she sung them was perfect to me, and brings me happiness and peacefulness whenever I try and remember her voice.  Every time I have trouble sleeping I try and remember how I felt at those times, and it always helps me to drift off.

The point of all this, I suppose, is to empower anyone reading this to love themselves.  Find things that make you truly happy, for yourself before anyone else, and then share them.  Teach someone what it means to love yourself, yes it is possible.  Give someone a hug, listen to them when they need to talk, tell them to love themselves for who they are.  If everyone understood this, I think there would be a lot less sad people.  If you can't find love for yourself, when you have to live with yourself every day of your life, than that would be a very sad life.  Those people just don't look hard enough inside themselves.  So look deep and love you, find happiness, find love, and live it, all of it.

Song of the Day:  Those Sweet Words - Norah Jones

Lyrics of the Day:  

"They shine a little brighter, the feel a little more

They touch your life in ways no one has ever done before

They love a little stronger, they live to give their best

They make our lives so blest, so why do they go so soon?

The ones with souls so beautiful..."

Spirits Among Us

Yesterday morning I got up early and went for a walk, which has become a bit of a routine for me.  It makes my day so much easier when I can get all my thoughts and feelings out at once and in the morning so that I do not have the pressures of said things weighing on my mind all day.

Anyway, as I came near my farthest destination I came across a baby bird.  A beautiful green and yellow, quite cute actually.  He looked scared so I walked cautiously around him, and when he didn't fly away I stopped and sat down near him by the grass.  I thought maybe I should move him from the pavement so that he doesn't get stepped on by someone, or run over by something else.  I crouched down really close to him, only a few inches, talked to him a little bit to try and calm him down, although, I'm not sure that helped much.  I wasn't sure what to do, but I felt bad for him, so I continued on to finish my walk and would see if he was still there on the way back in about fifteen minutes.

Well, when I came back, there he was, in the middle of the sidewalk.  I felt so bad for him, being so small and alone, crying out for his mother.  I sat down close to him again and just as I made up my mind to move him to the grass (there are worms, and maybe his parents would find him and be able to feed him if they knew he was more safe), he flies up into the nearby tree.  It brought a smile to my face.  Actually, it made me think of my Grandma.  Maybe it was her, maybe it wasn't, but I remember one of the last days she was alive, while she was sleeping I took my camera outside in their backyard to take pictures of all the beautiful Finches that were eating from their bird feeder.

While the concept of a spirit of a loved one coming to us through visual reminders seems a bit far fetched, it could be accurate.  When we found out that my Grandma was in fact going to die from the disease, we all were together and talked to her about what she was going to come back to us as.  I never really got into the conversation because I was still a little messed up about the whole situation, but my Grandma was a firm believer that it could happen.  I mean, they don't actually have to be coming through as that animal or that butterfly or that smell, but maybe they are able to send those messages, right time right place kind of thing to us to help us remember them.  I know it made me think of her, and that really helps being able to look back on those things.

Another example, well, two in fact, happened to me during the summer.  I had taken to spending a lot of time outside, just sitting and enjoying the beautiful weather.  It's just something that helped me in dealing with things.  Well, one day I found a baby bunny, one of Lexi's (my dog's) favorite things to chase outside of squirrels and chipmunks.  Well, I felt so bad for it that I grabbed Lexi, shoved her inside, and tried to chase the bunny away before it could be chased.  I followed it over to the fence and it just sat there looking at me.  I got about a foot from it and took its picture, but it just sat there, now - what bunny just sits and lets a human get that close to it?  

One of the last days of being home before going back to school I was outside again, reading, listening to music, it was late in the day, the sun was going down, it was just beautiful out.  Well, all of the sudden I hear this ridiculous noise fly by my ear, it was like nothing I'd ever heard before.  I screamed of course, thinking it was the biggest bug of all time, and looked in front of me, and there was a beautiful hummingbird.  Just hovering over some almost dead flowers from my Grandma's viewing.  I had never seen one up close before, certainly never had one fly literally 2 inches from my face.  It made me think of my Grandma, and of course I ran in and told my mom.  She then told me about a time when her and my Grandpa were out in my Grandma's garden soon after she died and they saw one, and my Grandpa told her he thought it was Grandma.  I mean these little coincidences couldn't all be such, could they?

Either way, it just is a cool thought to think that she could be coming back and bringing happiness to us again, just like she did when she was alive.  I'm thankful for these experiences, whether they are her or not, because regardless, they have made me think of her.  And to me, that is all that is important.

Song of the Day:  In The Red - Tina Dico

-This is probably one of the most heart breaking - most romantic songs I've ever heard.  It's amazing and I love it.

"Love is a thousand shades of grey

And we know

There's not a safe or certain way to go

But when we've seen all, uneasiness and hate, it will show

That is all means nothing, it all means nothing, nothing at all"