Let’s Vacation July 23, 2011Posted by sarahsfate in My Own Personal Trials, PostADay2011, Thoughts on People, Writing.
Tags: Air conditioning, Dream, Experiencing Life, Family, goals, Hot tub, Hotel, Ice cream, Life, Living, Love, people, Personal, Recreation, Relationships, Shopping, Swimming pool, Thoughts on Life, Vacation rental, writing
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I had forgotten how saltwater effects my ears but, for the first time in years, the hearing in my left ear has returned. And so as my children squabble over the television channel, space on the hotel bed, and the hot tub, I can hear every octave of their shrieks and even their mutterings.
It’s currently almost ten o’clock at night and the children are finishing a long day with a dip in the hotel’s indoor pool. Well, two of them are anyway, my fourteen-year old daughter, having espied a good-looking boy with a mohawk in the hot tub, has decided she’d like to swim after all and has gone back to our room to change. After a short period of time she returned clad in her yellow bikini with her hair nicely combed.
My ex and I then began a conversation about the dating ritual and concerns of youngsters. My ex, Ben, referred to the kids (teenagers and all) as “carefree”, to which I replied “who, in that room, is carefree?” My argument being that a 14-year old girl is extremely sensitive to her expression, hair, laughter, outfit, swimming technique — every nuance of behavior matters. That’s not carefree — that’s all care.
And then Ben says how silly that is because guys that age don’t particularly care about any of that. She’s cute and that’s the be-all, end-all. He says the majority of men, as well, are this way. Good to know, I say.
It was nice, though, that we were all completely unconcerned with all nuances of behavior (other than behaving in a socially acceptable manner, that is) at the beach today. I didn’t even notice other women being particularly concerned with their persons. What I noticed, instead, were the families building poorly constructed sandcastles, flying kites shaped as hawks, and wading deep into the intense waves slamming to shore. The temperatures remained in the nineties, a lovely change from the over-100-degrees for three weeks weather back home, and the breeze remained constant.
My son, upon his first experience with the ocean, deemed it acceptable entertainment in his 6-year old mind with the exception of all that pesky salt in the water and, therefore, perhaps the hotel pool was better. Kids. My 11-year old daughter has outdone herself in remaining positive and atop our non-schedule. Directly after dinner tonight she, my son, and Ben went outside to be free of the arctic air conditioning system of the hole-in-the-wall we found, and my 14-year old and I sat inside, eating ice cream and discussing the benefits of moving to the coast.
We decided it was difficult to judge the benefits because it’s easy to enjoy a vacation spot when you don’t have to work or go to school because then there’s no stress or responsibility really. But if we moved to the coast, the stress and responsibility would simply follow us to the coast and then…would we still enjoy the coast better than home? It was too difficult to decide so we simply finished our ice cream, pondered the intensity of the waves some more, and then stepped out into the ocean air.
Letting Go June 11, 2011Posted by sarahsfate in My Own Personal Trials, PostADay2011.
Tags: broken dreams, Dream, dreams, let go, letting go, Life, Love, Relationships, starting over, Thoughts on Life
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Verb 1: let go of – release, as from one’s grip
Until today I don’t think I ever really understood the significance of letting go. I hear people say ‘let it go’ all the time when something is upsetting or annoying. Topically speaking, it just means ‘don’t worry about it’. Or when something bothers me I say I’m just going to let it go. Again, so as not to worry and stress over it. But this almost always means that whatever that something is, it is small. Insignificant.
Letting go, is entirely different.
Today I wandered around my house thinking about the past. The past equals all things that have effected me up to this point in my life. 32-years worth of little somethings that create a larger whole picture of Sarah. Some of those little things I no longer remember and it doesn’t mean that those things were bad things or boring things…they’ve just faded away. Some of those little things are happy memories I cherish all the time…things that have followed me through the many days, weeks, months, and years of my time here in this life.
Other things, though, are bad things. Sad things. Angering things. And today I thought about the sad things. One thing, in particular. I had this person in my life for years who I built so many dreams around and he was (in my mind) someone very special. Special to me. Special in this world. Just special. And I kept trying to find a way to fit him into my life even though no matter what I tried, I failed. And I’m not a quitter so I kept trying. For years. I simply could not let go of that dream. It’s like growing up with the plan to go to Harvard, or Julliard, or to be an actress or quarterback. It’s a dream for your future that you work towards in a lifelong commitment of smaller plans that lead up to the great plan.
But I’m the quarterback who sustained a life-altering knee injury in the game. And just like that, the dream died. Stubborn and unready to give up on the dream, I worked out and stretched the injury, slapped band-aids on it, fought back the tears. But eventually I came to realize the dream was over.
And still I fought against it. I’ve lived in my own mind now for a long time, sequestering myself and my future in and around this dream. Until today. Today I realized that no matter how much I still want that dream and no matter how much I think those band-aids might eventually turn into wound-altering sutures, I have to let it go. The idea of taking something I love with my whole soul, tying it to an invisible balloon and letting it float away on the breeze, is terrifying. Heartbreaking.
That’s how I know letting go of something is significantly different from letting something go.