On Thankfulness

Some of my favorite days are the ones where I find myself going back over old posts in some of my blogs or at web accounts like DeviantART. This is probably going to come out totally wrong as far as the impression I'm giving, but I don't have the same problem I see that a lot of other creative people have. I never, ever go back over my old stuff and think: "Holy fuck, I need to just never pick up a drawing pencil or write another word again, because I suck compared to everyone else. I'm embarrassing myself." It's always: "You know what? I'm really good at this. One of the best things I could do for myself is make more time for my personal stuff."

Like a lot of creative people, I'm hard on myself when I actually sit down to create something. I'm pretty lenient and supportive when it comes to other people, but I hold myself to very high standards. I was raised to be that way, even though I am quite sure that my parents don't actually see any evidence that those teachings actually sunk in. I'm not competitive or the sort of person who wants to be better than other people. However, I do very much want to feel like I'm perpetually besting myself as the years go by and I put more and more out there into the world. When I look at all that I'm doing and all that I've done, I have to admit that I'm really pleased with my progress. I'm not where I ultimately want to be by any means, but I do feel like I'm getting there.

........

I  feel like I complain a lot about life and about work, especially offline. However, I have my reasons for it. I don't know of a way to express this without sounding like a whiny little princess, but life has always been hard for me -- harder than it is for some people. At 36 years of age, I now realize that I've struggled with bipolarism that is characterized by potentially dangerous, depressive lows. I've also come to a place where I strongly suspect I may have Asperger's syndrome (and Seth pretty much agrees, as his eldest son has a pretty pronounced case of it himself and he knows what it looks like). 

Summer Musings and Some Photos

Monterey Scottish Games and Celtic Festival 2012

It's a curious thing, getting older. Especially when it comes to things like the passing of the seasons. I remember when I was a kid, summers -- or any season, for that matter -- seemed positively endless. Now that I'm older, I get what my parents and the adults I knew in general meant when they talked about the way things would change as I aged. "One day, time will just start spinning by and you won't have a clue what happened."

Me as I looked on July 7th of this year.

OK, yes. I get it now. I'll be 37 years old on my next birthday  and at this point weeks, months, or even years fly by like they're on speed or something. It's easy for me to lose track of time, especially since I am so terribly busy these days. I've never sought to be a busy person, per se, as I've always preferred it when life moves at a leisurely pace. However, I suppose this is something else that just happens when you're an adult.

Somehow, I did find myself with a serious relationship, a family, and something that really does look an awful lot like a career the way that everyone else did. I love it despite the fact that it still feels as if I'm a child who is merely playing at being an adult... but it keeps me busy and it keeps outside of my own head a lot. I'm not sure that's always the best thing for me as a writer and an artist, but it is what it is. I'm still very much in the process of making adjustments there.

Riding the Medium Chill

Contemplating crab shells on the beach...

A friend on my LiveJournal list posted an article yesterday that addressed a concept called "medium chill". I'd never heard this term before, but it intrigued me. In a nutshell, people who might describe themselves as medium chill are people who have taken it upon themselves to question the whole concept so many of us are sold as children -- that life is and should be all about constant and ceaseless striving to achieve on a career level. They eventually come to the conclusion that they are happier with fewer things and less disposable income, but more time to spend with family, doing things that truly make them happy. Once they have "enough", they're satisfied and don't particularly feel the need to continue trying to get "more".

The older I get, and the more questions I personally ask myself about my own values, the more I'm discovering that there are quite a few things that I thought I believed, but that really aren't coming from me at all. They were ideals that belonged to my parents and wound up getting drummed into my head as a young person. They were empty concepts sold to me by society and the rest of the world in general. They weren't my real values and that being the case, they didn't lead me to happiness or prosperity when I tried to live by them.