Drama. We all know them. Private Practice, Gray’s Anatomy, Desperate Housewives, Brothers and Sisters. Publicly we scorn them, we perch ourselves on a pedestal of lofty intellectual debate about the ills of popular culture and the demise of scholarly pursuits.
Yet quietly, we allow ourselves the guilty pleasure of the occasional episode, and more often than not, we allow ourselves to be sucked into the world of drama, hiding the indulgence from the world like an alcoholic hides their flasks of vodka.
I’ll admit it, I watch drama. A lot of it. Something about drama, even when I don’t mean to, sucks me into their world of crises, pain, love, rejection – and you can’t help but wonder why anyone would choose to allow more of those elements of the human condition into their lives. I mean – are our lives not already pretty inundated with crises and pain?
And then I realized, quite suddenly one night as I wiped away tears from that last episode of Private Practice, that watching drama gives me license to feel. Every day I’m told verbally and otherwise that it’s not okay to feel. That it’s not okay to cry, that it’s not okay to let life get you down. Even the church tells you that your sad thoughts and feelings are a self-fulfilling prophecy. Even the church tells you that to feel disappointment or hurt or pain is to deprive the Lord of our trust in His grace and wisdom.
But with drama, because it’s someone else’s pain, someone else’s rejection, disappointment, we let ourselves feel those emotions. And people license that. People laugh at us for being crybabies at movies, at hallmark commercials, at silly drama serials. But what few realise are those emotions, those tears we weep for fictitious characters, are actually all ours. They come from those cubbyholes in our minds where all our suppressed disappointment, pacified anger and silenced pain leaks out.
So I cry, softly, quietly, watching Gray’s Anatomy every day on my little iPhone – and for 20 minutes after the credits roll, I can almost see the colourful ball of coalesced emotion hover in my mind, shrinking as it spins slower and slower, till finally, it dissipates into the mundane of everyday life. Of meetings and clients and duties and deadlines.
Till the next episode.
Monday, July 04, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Dreaming Ghosts
I dreamt of you last night. I don't remember the whole dream, but all I remember is coming home to you.
Awake now in a train, watching the world whiz by, memories play like a home movie in my head. Memories of the boy who was my friend before anyone else wanted to be. The boy who saw me when no one else did.
When you first told me how you felt in a cold library room, using a calculator.
When you first asked me to be yours in a darkened ballroom on the dance floor.
When you snuck up on me as I walked home from college, listening to my music through the headphones.
When you photocopied your hand and mailed it to me, asking me to place my hand on the dark print - and how that meant we were holding hands.
When you ran down that hospital corridor looking for me as the doctor told me I had cancer.
When you held me on that hospital bed sobbing, terrified of the next day.
When your mum told me you cried when you got home that night.
When you looked at me with such hurt when I betrayed you.
When I lied to you, straight in your face.
We had something precious and beautiful and I broke it. I broke you. I may never forgive myself.
I have a new life now... a man who loves me and I adore, a family who depends on me. And yet I carry you around in a tiny little bag, hidden deep inside my heart. When night falls and darkness closes in, when I don't have the control to keep you hidden, you crawl into my dreams and remind me.
Awake now in a train, watching the world whiz by, memories play like a home movie in my head. Memories of the boy who was my friend before anyone else wanted to be. The boy who saw me when no one else did.
When you first told me how you felt in a cold library room, using a calculator.
When you first asked me to be yours in a darkened ballroom on the dance floor.
When you snuck up on me as I walked home from college, listening to my music through the headphones.
When you photocopied your hand and mailed it to me, asking me to place my hand on the dark print - and how that meant we were holding hands.
When you ran down that hospital corridor looking for me as the doctor told me I had cancer.
When you held me on that hospital bed sobbing, terrified of the next day.
When your mum told me you cried when you got home that night.
When you looked at me with such hurt when I betrayed you.
When I lied to you, straight in your face.
We had something precious and beautiful and I broke it. I broke you. I may never forgive myself.
I have a new life now... a man who loves me and I adore, a family who depends on me. And yet I carry you around in a tiny little bag, hidden deep inside my heart. When night falls and darkness closes in, when I don't have the control to keep you hidden, you crawl into my dreams and remind me.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Modern Day Friendship
Mortgage $1940
Insurance $189
Loan Repayment $500
Train Ticket $300
Bills $400
Paycheck: $3479
Disposable monthly income: $150
So... we're in a wee bit of financial stress. We try to keep our chins up and solder on everyday but.. it's an uphill road.
A friend offered us money the other day. I should have been touched. I should have been grateful. But all I could really think about was the fact that what we really need right now is.. friendship. Company. But clearly, the half and hour drive to our place is way too far away for city bound folk, and we can't really afford to drive into the city, so here we have an impasse.
Funny how when you have money, it's so much easier to just throw money at people rather than to actually inconvenience oneself to spend time with them.
So.. excuse me if I find it somewhat difficult to celebrate with you on the purchase of your $1.2 million house, or follow you eagerly on every leg of your round the world trip. No, I can't have lunch with you because I can't actually afford lunch, and no, I don't want you to buy me lunch, because I am not a charity case.
The only thing we have right now is pride. So thanks for the monetary offer, but no thanks. We'll take your company if you have any to spare, but I'm guessing not.
Of course I don't say this to you, because no, that would be offensive. So I force a smile and avoid contact with you just in case what I'm really thinking slips out.
And so the cycle perpetuates itself.
Insurance $189
Loan Repayment $500
Train Ticket $300
Bills $400
Paycheck: $3479
Disposable monthly income: $150
So... we're in a wee bit of financial stress. We try to keep our chins up and solder on everyday but.. it's an uphill road.
A friend offered us money the other day. I should have been touched. I should have been grateful. But all I could really think about was the fact that what we really need right now is.. friendship. Company. But clearly, the half and hour drive to our place is way too far away for city bound folk, and we can't really afford to drive into the city, so here we have an impasse.
Funny how when you have money, it's so much easier to just throw money at people rather than to actually inconvenience oneself to spend time with them.
So.. excuse me if I find it somewhat difficult to celebrate with you on the purchase of your $1.2 million house, or follow you eagerly on every leg of your round the world trip. No, I can't have lunch with you because I can't actually afford lunch, and no, I don't want you to buy me lunch, because I am not a charity case.
The only thing we have right now is pride. So thanks for the monetary offer, but no thanks. We'll take your company if you have any to spare, but I'm guessing not.
Of course I don't say this to you, because no, that would be offensive. So I force a smile and avoid contact with you just in case what I'm really thinking slips out.
And so the cycle perpetuates itself.
Blogging Pain
I've been blogging for a while now... going through my archives, i've been writing here for about 6 years, albeit fairly sporadically over the last couple of years... just one post last year!
If there's one thing archive-surfing will do, is make you cringe at the person you once were. When you still lived in the rosy glow of pre-adulthood.
I think the moment you have that mortgage tied around your neck and you have people depending on you to feed them and give them a place to live, that rosy glow fades into the reality that is life. Now I have mouths to feed, bills to pay, and that roof to keep over our heads. So there really is no time to take up fetal position and wallow in every thought and feeling. So I take every ball of fear and anger, stuff them into a knapsack, hide it under the bed. I have to be strong for the person I love, as he needs to be strong for me. I'll deal with that knapsack some other day.
That's when it hits me that I blog most in great pain. Because when you are bereft of friends and family, and the only other person you have is also in the same boat, the only place you have to verbalise your fear, anger and bitterness at always pulling the short straw is.. here.
And so I blog until I see a brighter day.
If there's one thing archive-surfing will do, is make you cringe at the person you once were. When you still lived in the rosy glow of pre-adulthood.
I think the moment you have that mortgage tied around your neck and you have people depending on you to feed them and give them a place to live, that rosy glow fades into the reality that is life. Now I have mouths to feed, bills to pay, and that roof to keep over our heads. So there really is no time to take up fetal position and wallow in every thought and feeling. So I take every ball of fear and anger, stuff them into a knapsack, hide it under the bed. I have to be strong for the person I love, as he needs to be strong for me. I'll deal with that knapsack some other day.
That's when it hits me that I blog most in great pain. Because when you are bereft of friends and family, and the only other person you have is also in the same boat, the only place you have to verbalise your fear, anger and bitterness at always pulling the short straw is.. here.
And so I blog until I see a brighter day.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Cold Comfort
There was a time when you heard bad news, or when you had a friend who was going through a hard time, when you didn't have the words to comfort or to heal.. when all you could do was give them a hug, because there wasn't really anyway you could understand what they're going through.
We live now in a time when you don't spend face time with anyone anymore. The days of sitting on a park bench to talk, the days of curling up on the couch with a friend is long over. Now we pass along bad news via SMS, or instant messenger, or email. We have traded real human contact with convenience and instant gratification. So that when you don't have the words, you can't reach over and squeeze a hand in comfort, or hold someone in tears, or even give someone quiet comfort by simply being there.
Today's medium of conversation forces a response, because silence via SMS speaks of being ignored or rejected. So we respond. We say words for the sake of having a response... and then we end up saying things like:
"Don't be so negative, it'll all work out, it always does."
"Keep your problems at home, work is work, home is home."
And when you scared, lost and hurting, receive those messages, you wonder why you ever opened your heart, if that is all the comfort you can expect to receive from the people closest to you.
So you make bricks out of the mud surrounding you, you rebuild and reinforce and retreat into isolation, because it is easier not to have friends, than to have friends who don't really care.
We live now in a time when you don't spend face time with anyone anymore. The days of sitting on a park bench to talk, the days of curling up on the couch with a friend is long over. Now we pass along bad news via SMS, or instant messenger, or email. We have traded real human contact with convenience and instant gratification. So that when you don't have the words, you can't reach over and squeeze a hand in comfort, or hold someone in tears, or even give someone quiet comfort by simply being there.
Today's medium of conversation forces a response, because silence via SMS speaks of being ignored or rejected. So we respond. We say words for the sake of having a response... and then we end up saying things like:
"Don't be so negative, it'll all work out, it always does."
"Keep your problems at home, work is work, home is home."
And when you scared, lost and hurting, receive those messages, you wonder why you ever opened your heart, if that is all the comfort you can expect to receive from the people closest to you.
So you make bricks out of the mud surrounding you, you rebuild and reinforce and retreat into isolation, because it is easier not to have friends, than to have friends who don't really care.
Wednesday, April 06, 2011
The things no one tells you
Growing up you get told fairy tales that make you dream of being a princess, meeting Prince Charming and living happily ever after.
You get taught that if you're good, good things will happen to you.
You get taught that you can be anything you want to be.
You get taught that God has a plan for your life and answers your prayers.
No one ever tells you that you can only be what you want to be if you have the right family.
No one ever teaches you what to do when you're born short on looks, short on talent, short on smarts.
No one ever tells you how to deal when Prince Charming rocks up with a raft of complex issues and can't kiss the Princess to life.
No one ever tells you that God picks and plays favourites.
No one ever shows you how to deal when you wake one day and you're the sole breadwinner, saving on lunch so you can have dinner, juggling a mortgage and bills, trying to be strong for the person you love who isn't the Prince Charming, bereft of friends and family.
Pop culture tells me to walk away, the little girl brought up on fairy tales and wishing wells says that you deserve more than this.
And yet.. those same ideals keep you hanging on, hoping for something good to happen, praying for the happy ending.
Until - all grown up, you realise there is none. You teach yourself that you when you make your own bed, you have to lie in it. You realise that it's all as good as it gets.
So you take those idealistic notions, wrap them up in ribbons of resignation and bury them in the graveyard of dreams.
You put blinkers on so you don't see others, dressed in their dreams and answered prayers. You get out your best lipstick and draw a smile on. You wear dark shades so no one sees your tears.
You put one foot ahead of the other because bills and your mortgage has to be paid, because in spite of it all, you were taught to be responsible.
And then finally, when the pretence gets too much, you withdraw and hide from the world because in the shadows, you don't have to pretend.
You get taught that if you're good, good things will happen to you.
You get taught that you can be anything you want to be.
You get taught that God has a plan for your life and answers your prayers.
No one ever tells you that you can only be what you want to be if you have the right family.
No one ever teaches you what to do when you're born short on looks, short on talent, short on smarts.
No one ever tells you how to deal when Prince Charming rocks up with a raft of complex issues and can't kiss the Princess to life.
No one ever tells you that God picks and plays favourites.
No one ever shows you how to deal when you wake one day and you're the sole breadwinner, saving on lunch so you can have dinner, juggling a mortgage and bills, trying to be strong for the person you love who isn't the Prince Charming, bereft of friends and family.
Pop culture tells me to walk away, the little girl brought up on fairy tales and wishing wells says that you deserve more than this.
And yet.. those same ideals keep you hanging on, hoping for something good to happen, praying for the happy ending.
Until - all grown up, you realise there is none. You teach yourself that you when you make your own bed, you have to lie in it. You realise that it's all as good as it gets.
So you take those idealistic notions, wrap them up in ribbons of resignation and bury them in the graveyard of dreams.
You put blinkers on so you don't see others, dressed in their dreams and answered prayers. You get out your best lipstick and draw a smile on. You wear dark shades so no one sees your tears.
You put one foot ahead of the other because bills and your mortgage has to be paid, because in spite of it all, you were taught to be responsible.
And then finally, when the pretence gets too much, you withdraw and hide from the world because in the shadows, you don't have to pretend.
Friday, January 08, 2010
Blanchetown 2009
The day is Friday, the 1st of January, 2010. The time is 10.55pm although I think that may be Victorian time, not South Australian time. The place is Blanchetown, South Australia.
As i type this, i'm sitting on the veranda of my fiance's shack out in Blanchetown, South Australia, surrounded by 3 generations of Turners. On the right of me is the musical cluster, consisting of Steve's brother, Ryan, Scout, Kaine, and Casey and her other half, David. There's also Neil, Steve's dad, Simone, his partner, Craig, family friend, Aunty Di, Uncle Mark, Auntie Sue, Claytron (who is currently looking over my shoulder and bloody spell checking me), Stuffa, and Riley, who is currently looking my shoulder and repeating his name repeatedly just in case I forget him. And the twin belles... and I've probably forgotten people, but my excuse is the red wine singing in my blood.
In the midst of the laughter and music and inebriatedness, I am quite in awe. This isn't something I"m used to. I've been part of these gatherings a few times now and on a night like tonight with the waning moon in the sky, the Murray River in the foreground and the strains of guitar music in the background...... the silvery, invisible threads of family and friends weaves its way in between the lot of us and binds us together like nothing else could.
Growing up I saw my extended family once, maybe twice a year. Chinese New Year and during my grandad's birthday. We generally dined in five star hotels and restaurants, made polite conversation during the few hours we sat around the table, and wnet home. The journey home usually included getting told off for poor table manners and all those little ills that befalls the socially inept, as me and my sisters are.
Tonight, I'm surrounded by people or (wankers,as I am now flanked by both fiance and his brother influencing my words), the simplicity of the night astounds and overwhelms me with what family should be. Sure, there's the history and the hurts and the slights that goes with all families, but it's the simplicity of sitting around a dimly-lit veranda, with the sound of a million crickets around us, (actually apparently they're sprinklers..... /shuffle), the guitars playing in the background, the renown sulphuric tangs of my fiance's farts, laughing about everything and nothing in particular... that I realise that I am blessed to be part of this circle.
The circle wasn't quite complete yesterday,... tonight it is, with the arrival of Casey and her fiance, and tonight has been the culmination of a year of words, thoughts, actions gone by... and hopes for the year to come. I haven't blogged for months, but tonight as I sat quietly watching and listening, the realistation that when I said 'yes', I became part of this circle of trust, slowly seeps into me, as blood seeps into wood... and the urge to let sound to my thoughts resurfaces.
Family. Transcends ties of blood, tied together by friendship and understanding that we are all as we are, flawed, works in progress, doing the best that we can with what we have, come what may, for better or worse.
On a day like this, when my own family seems so very far away, so very separated my distance and pain, I realise that i'm a on a new voyage now. With a different crew on board. They have different coloured eyes, different coloured hair, almost a different language, but for the next 50 years or so, this is my voyage. As my heart fills with gratitude and thanks for these people, I turn my head into the wind and the spray of sea-water, the glow of the moon and smile.
Happy New Year, people. May this year be the year that you see that thing that you've seen all your life and never SEEN, and reached out for it.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Of Checkered Shoes and Men
Remember my post a few months/weeks back about the stranger with the checkered shoes on the tram that I will one day work up the guts to speak to?
Today was the day! Although, technically, he spoke to me first. We were standing right next to each other, clinging to the same bar in that stuffy, crowded tram, and the girl sitting closest to us vacated the seat. He looked at me and said 'You go ahead' - to which I replied 'Oh it's alright, I'm getting off soon' - then someone else slid into the seat.
Progress!
Yes, these are his checkered shoes. Well. Not HIS checkered shoes, but his looks exactly like these. And he wore them today.