I love reading self help books, they fascinate me and I actually do find them super helpful.
...yes they can be a little cheesy at times, but they are really so great.
I have this one, that looks like it could be from the 70's or 80's, and it's about flirting.
I love it!
The intro to this lovely gem reminds its readers that a true flirt isn't viewed by others as a flirt. This I like! Stealthy flirting, genius!
Basically a truly talented flirt is simply a friendly person. They're not creepy and don't obviously flirt, they're just nice, pleasant people.
Here's the other thing I found interesting, this book says to flirt with everyone. Again, it's really genius. See here's the thing I'm learning about flirting is you don't just flirt for romantic purposes.
Flirting offers a way to connect with people and build a network. And of course, there should be some romantic flirting, but not with everyone.
The cool thing, is that by building this huge network of people, you have a bigger pool of people to choose from, when you're ready to dive in romantically.
Pretty cool idea, and it makes sense.
This is the end of the lesson for today, no worries, I'll have more soon!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Dear Heart
Sweety pie, hunny buns, muffin cakes, lovey dove, pumpkin, love, cherished one, babe....
Pet names.
There are so many. I love hearing them. I love seeing couples call each other by them.
I confess, when a man uses pet names, I get a little week in the knees.
There's something magical about a special name that your love has for you. You and only you.
When that name is spoken the little butterflies in your tummy start fluttering.
I always imagine that couples that use pet names stay together longer, and are happier. Maybe because it's flirtatious, and I think that's an important part of a healthy relationship. I also think it's incredibly tender.
I remember when I was little, my dad would call my mom "Dear Heart" from time to time. Ah, I loved it when he called her that.
I felt like I was witnessing a magical, intimate moment between my parents, I felt like they must be so in love.
I wanted that.
I still want that.
Pet names.
There are so many. I love hearing them. I love seeing couples call each other by them.
I confess, when a man uses pet names, I get a little week in the knees.
There's something magical about a special name that your love has for you. You and only you.
When that name is spoken the little butterflies in your tummy start fluttering.
I always imagine that couples that use pet names stay together longer, and are happier. Maybe because it's flirtatious, and I think that's an important part of a healthy relationship. I also think it's incredibly tender.
I remember when I was little, my dad would call my mom "Dear Heart" from time to time. Ah, I loved it when he called her that.
I felt like I was witnessing a magical, intimate moment between my parents, I felt like they must be so in love.
I wanted that.
I still want that.
Part 2: Well oiled machine
(Refer to previous post "Well oiled machine" --- if you're not sure what I'm talking about here.)
So what if you find yourself with a broken down machine?
A dead relationship?
Like creatures out of a horror film, dead relations seem to be able to "live" forever!
Like the undead creatures they are, they suck the life out of everything -- everyone.
When someone finds themself in a dead relationship, it's a heartbreaking realization.
Often one will question how this could even happen. A relationship once so alive, now drains life, like an oozing ulcer.
Once this realization occurs, a choice must be made.
-Stay in the lifeless hell hole, accepting it for what it is.
-Repair the broken machine.
-Escape the hell.
Even with inaction, you are making a choice.
But a choice--nonetheless.
And choice gives you power.
So choose wisely.
So what if you find yourself with a broken down machine?
A dead relationship?
Like creatures out of a horror film, dead relations seem to be able to "live" forever!
Like the undead creatures they are, they suck the life out of everything -- everyone.
When someone finds themself in a dead relationship, it's a heartbreaking realization.
Often one will question how this could even happen. A relationship once so alive, now drains life, like an oozing ulcer.
Once this realization occurs, a choice must be made.
-Stay in the lifeless hell hole, accepting it for what it is.
-Repair the broken machine.
-Escape the hell.
Even with inaction, you are making a choice.
But a choice--nonetheless.
And choice gives you power.
So choose wisely.
Well oiled machine
In relationships, we are always making mistakes, well, in life too.
We're humans.
But particularly in relationships, we have to be aware. We have to repair damage as we create it.
And on the other end, we have to be patient, willing to forgive, when we are the recipients of hurt.
It's a constant give and take. And it takes a lot of work.
But just like a machine that goes without oil, if the give and take, repairing and forgiving, doesn't occur, it all breaks down.
Sure, pieces of the machine may function, in a way. But it will never be what it needs to be, what it can be.
Relationships require a delicate balance. There can't be only one person giving, while the other only takes. There can't be only one damaging (or only one acknowledging damage), while only one forgives. Both have to offer the same, take the same, forgive the same.
It has to stay balanced.
Or it breaks.
And dies.
We're humans.
But particularly in relationships, we have to be aware. We have to repair damage as we create it.
And on the other end, we have to be patient, willing to forgive, when we are the recipients of hurt.
It's a constant give and take. And it takes a lot of work.
But just like a machine that goes without oil, if the give and take, repairing and forgiving, doesn't occur, it all breaks down.
Sure, pieces of the machine may function, in a way. But it will never be what it needs to be, what it can be.
Relationships require a delicate balance. There can't be only one person giving, while the other only takes. There can't be only one damaging (or only one acknowledging damage), while only one forgives. Both have to offer the same, take the same, forgive the same.
It has to stay balanced.
Or it breaks.
And dies.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Wait! You forgot to close!
Imagine:
Your heart doesn't work quite like it should.
Perhaps it's stone cold and it takes a lot of muscular effort to get the blood pumping through it. Or maybe it's just too small, and has to work overtime to get the blood pumped to the tips of your toes and ends of your fingers.
Now, imagine that you are offered the chance to have a transplant. This would be great right? Keep in mind, however, you've had this bum heart for quite some time, it's not the ideal heart, but you're used to it. You know how to compensate for it's flaws. But it's flaws have the potential to end your existence early.
What do you do?
Do you keep the old classic, though not perfect/potentially lethal heart? Or do you shoot for the chance of getting a new, young, perfect heart...but a heart you don't know, one you're not familiar with?
Well, for the sake of arguing, let's say you opt in for the chance to have a new heart.
There you are, the day of surgery, so excited you can hardly keep from wetting yourself!
This is your chance, a new lease on life, a possible extension even. What a great day! How can you not be anything but elated?!
Hours later, you find yourself in recovery. You groggily open your eyes, stretching out your fingers and toes, already this new heart feels amazing!
You feel like a new person! No more compensating for that bum heart! Wow, this is just great!
You have to remain in the hospital for a few weeks, and you are told not to fiddle with your bandages. Both are simple requests you willingly oblige, you're so caught up in how good you feel, you could care less.
Well...time has passed, you've never felt so good, you're ready to take on the world, and you are free to go.
As you finish checking out, the nurses tell you it's time to remove your bandages.
Layer by layer, they remove the gauze. With the removal of each layer you feel more and more exposed.
Awkward.
Uncomfortable.
Raw.
You look down. Your chest is still cracked. No stitches in place. You can see your new, young heart, beating quickly, as if it were willing your chest to close in around it.
"Wait! You forgot to close!" You shout at the nurses.
They don't even acknowledge your presence anymore.
You are ushered from the building. There are many more people waiting for their new heart, and you're in the way now.
There you are. Once protected, now fully exposed. You try desperately to pull yourself together. You're frantic.
How did it come to this? It wasn't suppose to be this way.
Sure, you have a new heart, but what good does it do you, if you can't protect it?
Now you find yourself having to compensate again. At times you put up a shield, to cover your heart. And other times, it's just there, completely open.
Each morning and each night you try to stitch the gaping hole back together. It'll get there...but the progress is slow. The closing moves in such tiny increments, you hardly ever notice the change.
Until, one day. You wake up. And you're finally whole again, finally healed, after daily efforts to put yourself back together.
Was it worth it?
That is only for you to decide.
What is better? A bum heart or new heart, exposed?
Your heart doesn't work quite like it should.
Perhaps it's stone cold and it takes a lot of muscular effort to get the blood pumping through it. Or maybe it's just too small, and has to work overtime to get the blood pumped to the tips of your toes and ends of your fingers.
Now, imagine that you are offered the chance to have a transplant. This would be great right? Keep in mind, however, you've had this bum heart for quite some time, it's not the ideal heart, but you're used to it. You know how to compensate for it's flaws. But it's flaws have the potential to end your existence early.
What do you do?
Do you keep the old classic, though not perfect/potentially lethal heart? Or do you shoot for the chance of getting a new, young, perfect heart...but a heart you don't know, one you're not familiar with?
Well, for the sake of arguing, let's say you opt in for the chance to have a new heart.
There you are, the day of surgery, so excited you can hardly keep from wetting yourself!
This is your chance, a new lease on life, a possible extension even. What a great day! How can you not be anything but elated?!
Hours later, you find yourself in recovery. You groggily open your eyes, stretching out your fingers and toes, already this new heart feels amazing!
You feel like a new person! No more compensating for that bum heart! Wow, this is just great!
You have to remain in the hospital for a few weeks, and you are told not to fiddle with your bandages. Both are simple requests you willingly oblige, you're so caught up in how good you feel, you could care less.
Well...time has passed, you've never felt so good, you're ready to take on the world, and you are free to go.
As you finish checking out, the nurses tell you it's time to remove your bandages.
Layer by layer, they remove the gauze. With the removal of each layer you feel more and more exposed.
Awkward.
Uncomfortable.
Raw.
You look down. Your chest is still cracked. No stitches in place. You can see your new, young heart, beating quickly, as if it were willing your chest to close in around it.
"Wait! You forgot to close!" You shout at the nurses.
They don't even acknowledge your presence anymore.
You are ushered from the building. There are many more people waiting for their new heart, and you're in the way now.
There you are. Once protected, now fully exposed. You try desperately to pull yourself together. You're frantic.
How did it come to this? It wasn't suppose to be this way.
Sure, you have a new heart, but what good does it do you, if you can't protect it?
Now you find yourself having to compensate again. At times you put up a shield, to cover your heart. And other times, it's just there, completely open.
Each morning and each night you try to stitch the gaping hole back together. It'll get there...but the progress is slow. The closing moves in such tiny increments, you hardly ever notice the change.
Until, one day. You wake up. And you're finally whole again, finally healed, after daily efforts to put yourself back together.
Was it worth it?
That is only for you to decide.
What is better? A bum heart or new heart, exposed?
Nothing tastes the same
People can go a lifetime eating sub par food, in fact, I believe most of us do.
And we're okay with it. We don't know any better.
Occasionally we may taste a slightly better drink or a better cheese, and we love it.
But when we experience a full course meal, of pure wonderful...a meal with handmade sauces, exotic seasonings and rich flavors blended together perfectly, nothing will taste the same again.
When we eat the bland, dull food again, we feel we are betraying our taste buds. They know what great food is now. How can we feed them crap? And get away with it.
Even decent food isn't good enough. Even good food isn't good enough.
We are ruined, we want the best.
But nothing will ever taste the same again.
And we're okay with it. We don't know any better.
Occasionally we may taste a slightly better drink or a better cheese, and we love it.
But when we experience a full course meal, of pure wonderful...a meal with handmade sauces, exotic seasonings and rich flavors blended together perfectly, nothing will taste the same again.
When we eat the bland, dull food again, we feel we are betraying our taste buds. They know what great food is now. How can we feed them crap? And get away with it.
Even decent food isn't good enough. Even good food isn't good enough.
We are ruined, we want the best.
But nothing will ever taste the same again.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Be your own hero
The knight rounded the castle steps, sword in hand, the fire breathing dragon nipping at his heals. As he reached the landing he turned on his pursuer, and lunged. The dragon screeched in agony as the sword landed between his eyes going straight through, and pinning the monster to the castle wall. The knight began his accent while the wailing dragon wrestled with the blade penetrating his gruesome face.
Reaching the top, the knight paused momentarily, to locate the maiden. There she lie, a feeble heap in the corner of the room. The knight approached, and gently spoke her name. Awaken from her tearful reverie, the maiden looked up in awe at the gallant knight, come to rescue her. The maiden took his extended hand and he lifted her into his arms.
Quickly, yet carefully, he carried the maiden down the castle stairs, avoiding the reaching claws of the still trapped dragon. His white horse awaited as he they escaped the castle walls. And climbing atop the beautiful creature, the knight and the maiden rode away.
Wouldn't that be nice?
In a way, or rather momentarily it probably would, but let me point a few problems here. The maiden is sitting in the corner, a feeble, crying mess. How the hell can anyone get out of a sticky mess, like a dragon attack, if they are hiding in the corner. Now, don't get me wrong, it's important to take a moment and be sad over things...but not when you're in the thick of it.
That is when you have to fight.
Other problem, why is the knight rescuing the maiden? Why isn't the maiden rescuing herself? The knight can be there, for sure, he can be back up, but if the maiden really wants to get out of this mess, she is going to have to find herself a sword or a bow and quiver of arrows and she's going to have to face that dragon.
She got herself in this mess, she needs to get herself out.
The idea of someone coming in and rescuing us from our problems sounds all too magical. It's hard to be strong. It's hard to fight. But we won't be strong and we won't fight, if we are lying feebly on the floor, waiting for someone to come rescue us.
We have to be our own hero, our own knight in shining armor.
So, let's try this again...
The knight rounded the castle steps, sword in hand, the fire breathing dragon nipping at his heals. The maiden stood on the landing and reached in her quiver, pulling out the razor sharp arrow. With precession and speed, the maiden shot the scaly beast between the eyes. He wailed out in agony and charged towards the two, his anger boiling. Swiftly the maiden shot two more arrows at the ever approaching beast, who screeched as the arrows landed in his heart.
Yet the dragon continued to inch towards the maiden.
There they stood, face to face. The maiden stared into his black eyes, without flinching, she reached for the dagger at her side and lunged towards the fire breathing monster. Plunging the dagger in the dragons head, the maiden swung herself around and slid down the dragon's arm. Reaching for the arrows in the dragons heart, she caught hold and with all the power inside her, she thrust the arrows deeper into his heart, killing the giant beast.
Pulling herself away from the slumped, dead heap, the maiden looked up at the knight. Exhausted from battle, the two reached out, meeting halfway. Bolstering each other up, the two paused a moment. Then, catching their breath, they walked hand in hand through the castle gates. Their stallions stood, waiting for their masters return. Each climbed atop their beautiful beasts, and rode away, into the starry night.
The beautiful thing about rescuing yourself, is you don't lose your love by being your own hero. The maiden still ends up with the knight in the end. And the relationship is more balanced, both are strong, both can hold their own.
And who doesn't love a person who is strong? ....I think the knight does.
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