Archive for 'Psychobabble'
Out of the doldrums and into happier land
Posted on September 10, 2008, by soph, under It's a Girl's Life, Psychobabble.
It hasn’t been the best of days. I seem to have channelled whatever frustrations from the workplace I have towards becoming as angsty and grumpy as I can, surprising even myself with my impatience at times. At 6pm I was so ready to call it a day, but deadlines loom large and I decided to push on.
Only two comfort chocolates and a conscious effort to snap out of it finally turned things around for the sunnier. Ironic, isn’t it, that the clouds gathered within as soon as the rainy weather stopped? The mental gear shift worked surprisingly well; I was instantly cheerier, if still a little tired. Must be all those late nights over the weekend.
At 7pm I was ready to leave. At 7.15pm my planned departure met with an unexpected hitch - more stupid people out to test my patience. I behaved myself and dreamed of climbing into bed early with a good DVD or two. At 7.30pm my mother-in-law called. Details of our upcoming trip to Europe have to be finalised. Guess I won’t be going to bed early after all.
And that was how I ended up spending the better part of the night in front of the computer, planning, researching and booking stuff for Paris, mother-in-law by my side. It definitely wasn’t my idea of a great night in, not compared with the DVDs I’d lined up in my head and not today especially, but it turned out to be a totally unexpected mood booster. I forgot I was tired, I definitely wasn’t grumpy; in fact, I felt oddly refreshed and energised. In short, I was happy.
I was so happy I packed Y’s lunch, put away clean laundry, even ironed a pair of Y’s jeans for tomorrow morning at midnight and still felt great! It was ridiculous. Even as I type this, I’m already looking forward to another work day and wondering if I should rise a little earlier to prepare breakfast.
In between wondering who this Sophia is and what she’s done to the real one, I wonder if I’ve gone manic depressive. Or was it all in my head and all I had to do was drag myself out of the doldrums. Who’d ever have thought that planning a holiday could be almost as therapeutic as taking one. That’s it - no more playing Oscar the grouch for me.
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Making a splash
Posted on August 19, 2008, by soph, under Psychobabble, Sports.
So much has been said about Michael Phelps that I really won’t add to it. All you need to know is the man has become the greatest swimmer and most decorated Olympian of all time with a bunch of world records under his Speedos. And that he’s just 23 years old.
Like most everyone else, I rooted for the guy. And now that he’s succeeded, I wonder what it’s like to conquer the world and achieve your wildest dreams at just 23 years old. His maturity is stunning; his talent a potent combination of natural-born ability and unswerving dedication and perseverance. If I, the spectator, watch history being written in jawdropping disbelief and admiration, what does the view look like from the top of the world where Michael currently stands?
I believe everyone has something they’re born to do - an innate ability and passion that, if discovered and nurtured, can lead to great things in that chosen field. Michael Phelps found his. Not for the first time, I wonder if I’ve found mine.
Some people say our 20s are the years of self-discovery, where we sort of figure out what we’re about and what we want to do for the rest of our lives. Never has this rung so true for me than in the past six months or so. I have been giving ‘me’ a lot of thought, and while my early 20s were about making decisions with more gut instinct and less thought, I’m now ready to start consciously mapping my decisions and maybe start planning paths into the future. All while still listening to my instincts, of course; I’ve become a believer in them.
Years from now, when people talk about Michael Phelps and his historic Beijing Olympics outing, I will remind baby Reuben that he watched Michael receive his eighth gold medal, and that his mummy had pointed Michael out to him on television.
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A rumbling of disillusion
Posted on July 9, 2008, by soph, under Psychobabble.
Today is one of those days. You know, those ’screw it all’ days. This evening a few things hit me, things that maybe I never gave thought to and so it never surfaced (for better or for worse, I’m still trying to figure out). Things that maybe should have stayed buried among my subconscious because it’s so much more convenient that way. Things that, now having floated to the top, are evoking shades of anger mixed with frustration and annoyance and wonder if I am maybe overreacting.
I apologise for the cryptic nature of this post.
Don’t worry, it’s got nothing to do with the hubby.
One of the most important things for me, in my perception and attitude towards others, is respect. I don’t know if it’s fair that I demand this of everybody, but in my defence, it’s really difficult for someone to lose my respect. In fact, I can count on one hand the number of people I have no respect for. And even as I type, I’m rethinking half of these people because, well, I don’t want to have no respect for people. I know how I perceive these people in my head and it’s not nice; it’s a terrible contradiction that I don’t want to not respect them, while at the same time I don’t.
I think I’m getting a little - disillusioned? jaded? I don’t know the right word - with work. I can hear the faint whisperings rumbling beneath the surface. Don’t get me wrong, there are lots of things I love about it and I have no intention of hauling ass and going anywhere else, but there are things that I always believed to be true that are now being challenged as not-quite-true in my mind. It’s a little jarring, to say the least. Not to mention I’m feeling a little silly for not having realised this earlier.
I apologise again for the cryptic nature of this post.
I look at others and wonder how they get disappointed over and over again and never get disillusioned. I’m not talking in terms of success and failure; I’m just talking about people in general. One possible reason I came up with is: they never had an ideal in the first place. Maybe they went in with both eyes wide open and with the full knowledge of what was really going on/would go on. In spite of my cynicism towards many things, I suspect I can be naively - stupidly, even - idealistic about other things. Ideals, principles… it doesn’t matter what I call it. The thing is, it may all have come back to bite me in the ass.
Luckily, I feel a hundred times better after writing about it, as I always do. And now that my happy bubble has been popped, I’d do well to put away the bottle of soap and bubble blower from now on.
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We are three years
Posted on July 3, 2008, by soph, under Married, Psychobabble.
Y and I celebrated our third wedding anniversary yesterday. I use the term ‘celebrated’ very loosely because we didn’t do anything. He was in Singapore for work so I sent him a text message first thing in the morning to say ‘happy anniversary’. He replied almost four hours later to say he’d forgotten it was our anniversary. Oh and ‘happy anniversary’ back.
In case you were wondering, I didn’t throw a fit and I wasn’t upset. How could I blame him when I’d forgotten the first anniversary of us getting together and last year’s wedding anniversary? The only reason I remembered this year was because I’d keyed it into my phone. Yes, I am that bad and I am that weird.
I don’t know why, but birthdays and anniversaries really aren’t that big a deal for me. We hear funny stories all the time about how husbands get into trouble for forgetting important dates, which makes me wonder if I’m the only wife who does it too. It’s almost as if God forgot to programme that particular genome into my DNA or something.
I don’t think forgetting an anniversary translates into me not placing an emphasis on my marriage, just like I don’t believe that Y hardly buying me anything (even on my birthdays) means he doesn’t love me. Some people might think I’m being naive, but I love my hubby to bits and I haven’t bought him a birthday or Christmas present in like, three years.
Oh, that’s the other thing, I’m not big on buying pressies either. I can never think of something really good to buy when the time comes, and I don’t see the point of buying something Y won’t use because I’d bought it just for the sake of getting him something. I’d rather buy stuff as and when the thought and need arises, though having said that, both of us rank pretty low on the material wants scale. Having moved four times in three years, I’m trying to minimise my possessions because it’s just way too much hassle carting stuff I don’t really need around. So practical, people tell me, but I think it’s also because gifts just aren’t my love language.
Anyway, back to our wedding anniversary. When I got married, I was a month shy of 23 and hardly any of my peers were married. Now I’m approaching 26 and it’s not that unusual for someone my age to be walking around with a wedding band anymore. I look at my sister and sister-in-law now and think, wow, when I was their age I was already married. No wonder people thought I was crazy. Oh, but it’s been the best time.
One reason a lot of people give for not getting married young is that they want to “play” somemore. I sometimes wonder if I will wake up one day and regret tying the knot right out of university.
Only three down. Looking forward to dozens more. Happy anniversary to us.
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What defines my everyday?
Posted on June 24, 2008, by soph, under Career, Married, Psychobabble.
It’s a question I’ve been giving much thought to of late. When someone asks me how I am, my automatic response used to be: “Good. Been busy with work. The usual.” Then one day I realised it sounded as if my entire life revolved around work, so nowadays I say: “Good. Working hard but playing hard too.”
The truth, though, is I work more than I play. The balance sounds about right - it’s definitely good news for the bosses - but I’ve been wondering if work should define my everyday. Should my life really be predominantly about work? Or to put it another way, is work my sole purpose in life?
I don’t want it to be. I mean, I love my job and all, but for me, there’s a fine line between loving my job and doing it well, and obsessing over it. I don’t want to be a workaholic - not when it comes to my day job anyway. I suppose it would be different if I were doing my own thing; I’ve always been an independent one. You could say I’m anal and want everything my own way, but the truth is that is the way I work best. That’s why I love being a writer.
I digress. In short, I’ve been thinking about purpose; motivation; big picture. It’s a train of thought birthed from observation of my colleagues and accepting that there are so many things I cannot control at work. Sometimes I wonder if this is all just an excuse to conceal my knee-jerk reaction of withdrawing when I come to a brick wall. I cannot control all these things, therefore I will step back and not get emotionally invested.
It may not (always?) be a bad thing. After all, the conscious decision to withdraw and not let work define my each day has resulted in mullings and ruminations about what does define my everyday. And right off the bat, I realise that a big part of it is Y. My marriage is my top priority, as it should be, but more than that, it keeps me grounded in the world outside of the office. It reminds me to look beyond my nine-to-five existence/industry. It puts things into perspective and prevents me from giving the trivial more weight than is really due. For this, I am thankful.
But it does not adequately answer my question. I don’t have all the answers, but I think I know where to start. Don’t give me a cliched Christian mantra of life purpose and don’t tell me I should get pregnant because a child will give me purpose - I have no doubt he/she will but that’s a completely different discussion altogether. Besides, bringing a child into the world for the sole intention of seeking life purpose probably isn’t the best way to start off my parenting career.
Perhaps it doesn’t even matter if I don’t find answers. Perhaps what matters are the right questions, time spent pondering and silent conversations with and about a Creator. And along the way, I should still play pretty damn hard.
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It’s going to be a hot party
Posted on June 9, 2008, by soph, under It's a Girl's Life, Psychobabble.
hot magazine celebrates its 100th issue with a massive party this Wednesday and suffice to say many of us in the office are properly stressed. The week promises much to look forward to, especially with D coming up from Singapore, but even more to do, including a magazine to close. On my checklist for the big bash:
1. Find an outfit
I finally popped by my mum’s to borrow one of Bec’s dresses that I’ve been eyeing for a while. Pair it with her new belt, a pair of comfortable heels, accessories and I’m done. I might even paint my face if I feel like it.
2. Charge my camera
Must get round to it before I go to bed tonight. After all, what’s a party without photographs to post up on Facebook after?
3. Truckloads of patience
Now this, I’m afraid, might be a problem. As I grow older (and grumpier), I have been noticing decreased tolerance levels for incompetence. Maybe it’s me getting jaded from work; maybe I’m just not as nice a person as I might once have been; or maybe, just maybe, some people just need a good kick up the pants. Perhaps I’m also learning that I don’t always have to take shit with a smile, although with newfound “feistiness” (as the boys would call it) comes the responsibility of learning when to speak up and when to know that it’s beyond my control and just let it pass.
Like weddings miraculously do somehow, I’m sure the party will all come together in the end. Touch wood.
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Niggling
Posted on May 29, 2008, by soph, under It's a Girl's Life, Psychobabble.
I’m feeling a little unsettled right now, like the planets are out of sync in the universe of me or something. This niggling feeling began last night before bed, and continued into the morn. I’m usually one to trust my instincts, so if my gut tells me something’s out of whack, something probably is.
The perhaps slightly worrying thing is how easily I buried the feeling as soon as I got to work. Having to, or rather getting to, focus on my checklist for the day made it all too easy to brush aside any niggles in the cosmos. At least I took two seconds to shelve it under ‘thoughts’ for blogging but I really should set the imbalance right. This is, after all, the person who won’t even go to bed with an resolved marital tiff lingering.
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Give me pause.
Posted on May 23, 2008, by soph, under Celebrities, God, Psychobabble.
At a stage in my life where I have become so cynical, so sceptical, so resigned even, to many things in this world that I cannot control;
Where I am learning to be who I am without care or worry about what other people might think of me;
Where I struggle to hold firm to my opinions and believe that it is perfectly okay to have opinions that may perhaps differ from other people;
Where I am so far away from who I was a mere five years ago some of my university friends would be shocked to hear what I have to say today;
Where just recently I wondered if I could even call myself a ‘Christian’ because I don’t fit the definition of the label - not here, not anymore;
Where soon after I decided the label really doesn’t matter;
Where I increasingly find myself in a world that is no longer black and white, but more often than not in varying shades of grey;
Where I no longer judge according to what I may once have been taught because I now know a lot of things really aren’t that simple;
At a stage in my life where I am regularly aware of how I am changing / have changed, where I am constantly tuned in to my innermost musings and reflective rambles for better or for worse, where I surprise even myself on occasion;
This gives me pause and totally blows my mind.
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Eyes wide shut
Posted on May 22, 2008, by soph, under It's a Girl's Life, Psychobabble.
If our eyes are truly the windows to our souls, sometimes I wonder how much my eyes give away. While I believe in not lying, or trying my best not to, there are times when the urge to smile and nod in expected approval and support far outweigh the desire to speak my objecting mind, if only because the former is the much easier way out. We all have to pick our battles, right? During times when I really need my eyes not to reveal too much, times when I’m panicked, or feeling really awkward or mortified, times when I want to keep my emotions under wraps… do I really give away as much as I fear I do?
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sad.
Posted on May 14, 2008, by soph, under Married, Psychobabble, Reading and Writing.
When Y wouldn’t let me tell him all about the latest novel I’d read - Jodi Picoult’s My Sister’s Keeper - I whined, “But you have to let me tell you. It’s so sad!”
To which he replied, “You always say that. Everything you read is so sad.”
To which I stopped, and realised that he was right. Why is everything I read (and love) so sad? Just off the top of my head, I’ve recently finished The Kite Runner, A Mighty Heart and The Time Traveler’s Wife, and yes, they have all induced tears, some more than others.
The sentiment crosses over into films as well. I seem to admire sad movies more than I do happy ones, although I did like Finding Neverland very much. That’s not to say I don’t appreciate a quality romantic comedy - I’ve watched Love Actually four times - but I think the sadness in books and films (and music) resonate with me because, let’s face it, we live in an often very sad world.
I guess when films and books give me something other than the cliched happy ending, it strikes me as more real somehow, a stark reminder of how life isn’t always fair, and things don’t always turn out for the better, and good doesn’t always triumph over evil, at least in the temporal. Many people watch movies to imitate art, but in a very depressing way, I’m glad art has also been doing its share of imitating life.
Ironically, these are thoughts from an avowed musical lover - the very genre of musical having been built on the foundations of escapism and happy endings. Maybe that’s my exception, though to be fair, not all musicals have happy endings anymore. And oh how I love those that do not.
