Topsy-Turvy World
Nov. 5th, 2004 11:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shadowkatWas talking to my Dad tonight about politics and he said three things that made me laugh:
1. According to NPR, the Immigration Websites of Canada, New Zealand, and Mexico have recieved an historic number of visits from Americans. And have been overwhelmed with emails and questions about the possibility of immigration.
2. Dad thinks moving to New Zealand might be cool if he can only figure out a way to move his entire family with him. Immediate family that is. He's also considering Canada, which his conservative friends call the "People's Republic of Canada".
3. When a conservative Woman ranted about liberals during a dinner party my father attended, he informed her that if it weren't for liberals we wouldn't have the 19th Amendt. She stared blankly at him for a moment. What is the 19th Amendt., she asked. He said it gave women the right to vote.
On Joan of Arcadia tonight, Joan was told that there are two ways of seeing light, one just white, the other all the colors in the rainbow. All the colors in the rainbow and more exist in white light, but you may not see it. It's the attitude you take when you look at the light that effects what you see. If you open your mind to it? Prepare to be dazzled.
After my interactions this week, and reading my friends list, I think that advice fits life as well sometimes.
Hard week. Very stressful. (Although, one thing I can say about work, they certainly like to feed you. Not going hungry. Apple Pie. Scones. Pretzels. Candy Corn. Brownies. Chocolate. Sigh...there goes the 20 pds I lost while unemployed. What is it about stressful jobs and food? ) So outside of one quick post rec'ing the S6 ATPO fanfic & voting, haven't been online at all. At work - harried. At home - back hurt so badly, that I stayed away from the computer. So tonight, with a Pain Relief Patch across my back and shoulder muscels, I'm downloading the Norton Anti-Virus and well, catching up. Made it up to Nov. 4th on Friends List and checked out the ATPO Posting Board which has a nifty political debate thread amongst other things. Loads going on. Both good and bad. All the spectrums of the rainbow.
A while ago, in a locked discussion thread, one of the people on my friends list said something that I think bears repeating. It was Rahael (must give people credit for good quotes, mustn't we?). And it had to do with being open to others and open about yourself, because, she said, you never know when you might save a life.
When I entered the world of online posting boards and livejournals a little over two years ago, I did not know what I would find. At first, it was basically fan stuff, but over time I'd rediscovered a lost art - the art of the letter, or correspondence. And through that correspondence, I discovered how people somehow, without thinking about it, saved each others lives. Kept one another moving forward.
While reading my FList this evening, I was struck by how true that is. I'm also struck once again by how powerful written words can be. You can change someone's life with your words. You can change minds. You can open hearts. You can close them. You can inflict pain. You can heal. Words can liberate. The Declaration of Independence, The Constitution. Words can educate - history is documented in words. When used well words can take us inside someone else's head, so we can experience what it is like to lose a child, or the miracle of having one. Through words, we can communicate, comprehend, understand, and learn from one another.
Within the last two hours - I learned someone lost a child, I felt their pain.
My heart went out to them. Speechless, I wondered what words could I find to share condolences for a loss I do not understand. I was about to say, nor share. But that's not true. We do share it. In this instance at least, because the woman had shared with us the birth, the child's progress, posts on her child, and finally the post on the child's loss and the inability to deal with it coherently. Seeking refuge in the writing efforts of her online friends, as a relief from the pain. This in turn - caused others to share similar stories. As each story is told, light brightens darkness. I learned other things too. Someone was afraid about medical test results, which turned out well. Someone lost a dog, then found it. Someone lost hope and wondered what the point was, then somehow, regained hope again. Someone was afraid of a job assignment (something I completely understand - this gal had my week). The common thread? "Thank you for your comments, they kept me going. Or mean more than you know." This is true by the way. I know. Because I've been there. If it weren't for kind souls who reached out to me periodically over the last three years, I often wonder if I would be here now. I can only hope that I supported them a little in kind. We say we climb the cliff of life by ourselves, but experience has taught me otherwise, we don't. Not really. We do it together, with a rope of light linking each of us.
Rahael is right I think. You don't know when your words might save a life. But the other side is true as well, I suppose. I'm not sure we know when our words could end one. For every beautiful post or sentiment, I've seen the darker hate-filled ones. Ones that hurt, maim and bruise. Some deliberately.
Some unintentionally. Some just expressions of pain on the part of the speaker who is merely lashing out at a world that has hurt and bruised them. It's easier I think to help or feel for the sympathetic, beautifully worded post. Harder to deal with the harsh-toned, angry, offensive one. I can't read those.
They make me angry. And I react poorly. I also find that when I hit a post that pushes my buttons, the snarky side of me will arise and attack. Wham!
Happens less now, since no time to read or react. Actually barely at all.
I do have a snarky side, an evil, catty side - which comes out every once and a while. But then everyone does. Some just hide it better than others. I fear those who hide it, they can be vindicative.
At any rate...my thoughts go out to those who've lost someone tonight. Whether the person be small, young, old, or large - it hurts I know. Negative space.
Joss Whedon expressed it so well in The Body. That feeling you have when someone you loved is suddenly not there. The space their body inhabited is now negated. White. Like I suppose looking at that rainbow, and seeing a space without color or light. Or looking at a black hole. You fill it with memories.
Photos. You talk to the person from time to time inside your head. But you ache to hear their voice or hear news of them or see them. Touch.
I remember as a small child - trying to contemplate that negative space. To me death wasn't a corpse. IT wasn't a body. Since I'd never been to a funeral or seen a dead body really until I was 27. My mother hated funerals, so didn't let us come to either of my Grandfathers, or for that matter the childhood acquaintance slash friend that had been killed by a bus when I was 6. So for me, death = absence. Like someone moving away. Now, that I'm older? It's negative space. And I find sometimes I fear the death of those close to me, far more than I fear my own. It's being left behind, alone that scares me.
Tonight my Dad told me that his next book (he self-publishes his books) was going to be a fictionalized (of course) last conversation with God. Strange.
During the conversation - I thought, okay, Dad is contemplating religion. Now I realize Dad is contemplating his own mortality. I won't bore you with the details why. More or less self-explanatory any way.
This week during a health fair at my company, a woman specializing in aromatherapy told me that we don't have to suffer in life. We get to choose.
Whether to make our lives heaven or hell. She believed that heaven or hell was in the here and now, not in the after-life. It's a statement I've heard before, but not as hopeful. I think she's right. There's many ways of looking at something. We can either just see white light or the rainbow. My hope is I can start seeing the rainbow. White light gets really boring after awhile.
1. According to NPR, the Immigration Websites of Canada, New Zealand, and Mexico have recieved an historic number of visits from Americans. And have been overwhelmed with emails and questions about the possibility of immigration.
2. Dad thinks moving to New Zealand might be cool if he can only figure out a way to move his entire family with him. Immediate family that is. He's also considering Canada, which his conservative friends call the "People's Republic of Canada".
3. When a conservative Woman ranted about liberals during a dinner party my father attended, he informed her that if it weren't for liberals we wouldn't have the 19th Amendt. She stared blankly at him for a moment. What is the 19th Amendt., she asked. He said it gave women the right to vote.
On Joan of Arcadia tonight, Joan was told that there are two ways of seeing light, one just white, the other all the colors in the rainbow. All the colors in the rainbow and more exist in white light, but you may not see it. It's the attitude you take when you look at the light that effects what you see. If you open your mind to it? Prepare to be dazzled.
After my interactions this week, and reading my friends list, I think that advice fits life as well sometimes.
Hard week. Very stressful. (Although, one thing I can say about work, they certainly like to feed you. Not going hungry. Apple Pie. Scones. Pretzels. Candy Corn. Brownies. Chocolate. Sigh...there goes the 20 pds I lost while unemployed. What is it about stressful jobs and food? ) So outside of one quick post rec'ing the S6 ATPO fanfic & voting, haven't been online at all. At work - harried. At home - back hurt so badly, that I stayed away from the computer. So tonight, with a Pain Relief Patch across my back and shoulder muscels, I'm downloading the Norton Anti-Virus and well, catching up. Made it up to Nov. 4th on Friends List and checked out the ATPO Posting Board which has a nifty political debate thread amongst other things. Loads going on. Both good and bad. All the spectrums of the rainbow.
A while ago, in a locked discussion thread, one of the people on my friends list said something that I think bears repeating. It was Rahael (must give people credit for good quotes, mustn't we?). And it had to do with being open to others and open about yourself, because, she said, you never know when you might save a life.
When I entered the world of online posting boards and livejournals a little over two years ago, I did not know what I would find. At first, it was basically fan stuff, but over time I'd rediscovered a lost art - the art of the letter, or correspondence. And through that correspondence, I discovered how people somehow, without thinking about it, saved each others lives. Kept one another moving forward.
While reading my FList this evening, I was struck by how true that is. I'm also struck once again by how powerful written words can be. You can change someone's life with your words. You can change minds. You can open hearts. You can close them. You can inflict pain. You can heal. Words can liberate. The Declaration of Independence, The Constitution. Words can educate - history is documented in words. When used well words can take us inside someone else's head, so we can experience what it is like to lose a child, or the miracle of having one. Through words, we can communicate, comprehend, understand, and learn from one another.
Within the last two hours - I learned someone lost a child, I felt their pain.
My heart went out to them. Speechless, I wondered what words could I find to share condolences for a loss I do not understand. I was about to say, nor share. But that's not true. We do share it. In this instance at least, because the woman had shared with us the birth, the child's progress, posts on her child, and finally the post on the child's loss and the inability to deal with it coherently. Seeking refuge in the writing efforts of her online friends, as a relief from the pain. This in turn - caused others to share similar stories. As each story is told, light brightens darkness. I learned other things too. Someone was afraid about medical test results, which turned out well. Someone lost a dog, then found it. Someone lost hope and wondered what the point was, then somehow, regained hope again. Someone was afraid of a job assignment (something I completely understand - this gal had my week). The common thread? "Thank you for your comments, they kept me going. Or mean more than you know." This is true by the way. I know. Because I've been there. If it weren't for kind souls who reached out to me periodically over the last three years, I often wonder if I would be here now. I can only hope that I supported them a little in kind. We say we climb the cliff of life by ourselves, but experience has taught me otherwise, we don't. Not really. We do it together, with a rope of light linking each of us.
Rahael is right I think. You don't know when your words might save a life. But the other side is true as well, I suppose. I'm not sure we know when our words could end one. For every beautiful post or sentiment, I've seen the darker hate-filled ones. Ones that hurt, maim and bruise. Some deliberately.
Some unintentionally. Some just expressions of pain on the part of the speaker who is merely lashing out at a world that has hurt and bruised them. It's easier I think to help or feel for the sympathetic, beautifully worded post. Harder to deal with the harsh-toned, angry, offensive one. I can't read those.
They make me angry. And I react poorly. I also find that when I hit a post that pushes my buttons, the snarky side of me will arise and attack. Wham!
Happens less now, since no time to read or react. Actually barely at all.
I do have a snarky side, an evil, catty side - which comes out every once and a while. But then everyone does. Some just hide it better than others. I fear those who hide it, they can be vindicative.
At any rate...my thoughts go out to those who've lost someone tonight. Whether the person be small, young, old, or large - it hurts I know. Negative space.
Joss Whedon expressed it so well in The Body. That feeling you have when someone you loved is suddenly not there. The space their body inhabited is now negated. White. Like I suppose looking at that rainbow, and seeing a space without color or light. Or looking at a black hole. You fill it with memories.
Photos. You talk to the person from time to time inside your head. But you ache to hear their voice or hear news of them or see them. Touch.
I remember as a small child - trying to contemplate that negative space. To me death wasn't a corpse. IT wasn't a body. Since I'd never been to a funeral or seen a dead body really until I was 27. My mother hated funerals, so didn't let us come to either of my Grandfathers, or for that matter the childhood acquaintance slash friend that had been killed by a bus when I was 6. So for me, death = absence. Like someone moving away. Now, that I'm older? It's negative space. And I find sometimes I fear the death of those close to me, far more than I fear my own. It's being left behind, alone that scares me.
Tonight my Dad told me that his next book (he self-publishes his books) was going to be a fictionalized (of course) last conversation with God. Strange.
During the conversation - I thought, okay, Dad is contemplating religion. Now I realize Dad is contemplating his own mortality. I won't bore you with the details why. More or less self-explanatory any way.
This week during a health fair at my company, a woman specializing in aromatherapy told me that we don't have to suffer in life. We get to choose.
Whether to make our lives heaven or hell. She believed that heaven or hell was in the here and now, not in the after-life. It's a statement I've heard before, but not as hopeful. I think she's right. There's many ways of looking at something. We can either just see white light or the rainbow. My hope is I can start seeing the rainbow. White light gets really boring after awhile.
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-06 10:31 am (UTC)that's true.
I wish I could say that I've never hurt people with my words. But I know I have. And can only hope that the realization makes me more careful with them in the future. There was a post a while back on the ATPO board by pumpkinpuss, about the "art of writing carefully". In it she mentioned how important it was to phrase things correctly. To be careful of word choice. Tone. To make sure you communicate meaning without inflicting harm and that your meaning can be backed up. Can inform.
It's hard to remember when you are just writing whatever comes into your head, a flow of words, stream of consciousness style on a computer, while sitting alone in a room - that there is someone on the other side reading those words. Being affected by them. Often, I remember to late, and find myself rushing back to the livejournal to delete what I just said. Too late, because in those five-ten minutes it takes me to log back on and delete, someone out there has read them and I can't delete them from their head. All I can do is hope that they did not inflict that much harm. That they weren't misinterpreted too much. I guess the best we can do is take responsibility for our words and try to write more carefully, work to make our writing better clearer. So next time we sit down and write the words come out as more of an opening for discussion than a closed door shut in someone's face?
Not sure. I know I struggle daily with mine, the ones spoken and unspoken. Difficult caveat.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-07 05:03 am (UTC)But I also think that we can get the measure of someone. Through their words, both careful and careless, we learn and understand. And that kind of thing always provides a context for me with regard to other people.
And though we've disagreed plenty on the subject of Buffy, and often disagreed quite fiercely, I think there is no one else on AtPO who has been more willing to be held responsible for their words, and to express sorrow when or if those words have created unintended consequences than you have. And that is a true mark of great character.
It's a difficult caveat indeed, but you manage it with grace.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-07 07:12 am (UTC)There's an old rhyme:
Sticks and Stones will break my bones
But words will never hurt me...
Funny rhyme. Since often what causes one to pick up sticks and stones are words. Words incite action.
Even justify it in someone's head. The propaganda of Nazi Germany - is an example. Or the propaganda from the Family Values campaign started in 1986 in Colorado - another one.
And what seems careful when you are in a rage is not so careful when you wake up the next day!
Yes, writing in a rage is never a good thing. Although, at times things can be expressed in a rage that are useful. That someone has been hurt. And since we can't read each other's minds - it helps when we know where someone else is coming from. What angers them. If they never express it - we'll never know. I think it's a bit like walking a tightrope - you want to express what you feel, what you think,
but you want to do it in such a way that others can
understand and not be so offended/put-off by what you say, they don't make it past the first sentence.
How to be constructively critical? How to inform someone they've hurt you so they can understand?
I find myself writing rants in my head about the issues that stir me up. One comment on the ATPO board recently - that made me see red (it was Vegeta's post about same/sex marriages) then I read the answer by Sophist - which found a way of explaining to Vegeta why her comment was offensive and why it was inappropriate without condemning her.
Separating the comment from the person. Hard to do when we read stuff online. Since we do not know the person outside of their words, have not met them, seen them, or know where they come from outside of what they write - we at times find ourselves judging them solely by the words. Which may or may not be
more than just a quick retort, something written in the heat of the moment, or an opinion they had in passing.
That said, I agree with your comment:
But I also think that we can get the measure of someone. Through their words, both careful and careless, we learn and understand. And that kind of thing always provides a context for me with regard to other people.
A creative writing teacher once told me that there were three ways to discover who someone was in a book:1. What others "say" about them. 2. What they "say" about themself and others. 3. Their actions. Note the first two have to do with words.
If we aren't privy to someone's actions, all we have is their words.