Author: Liljumper

It is so hard to break old patterns, routines, and habits. But it is necessary. We have to grow and change. It is painful and destructive. It feels that way because it is. Like you need to destroy a house to build a new one, the process includes destruction.

We often get stuck in a rut, unable to change our patterns, or mind. We know it hurts us and we continue sitting in the rut because the climb out is hard and so scary. It is uncertain and it feels like it would be so much work and pain, more than the one we are in.

But we have to. We have to walk outside our confront zone, play with the lines of our limitations, in order to grow. To figure out who we are. We cannot grow if we stay in the same place.

I try to remember this in all aspects of my life. I try to try new recipes, to go new places, to experience new things. I try to remember that I am not a static being, I am in a process of growing, expanding. It can be tiring and it does not always produce fantastic results, but experience is experience. Even if knowing I do not like something (like Gorgonzola).

It reminds me of a quote from Jacqueline Carey, ‘All knowledge is worth having’. That quote has stuck with me through the years and I still believe in it. I could expand on it, ‘Experience, of all types, is worth having’.

Our capacity to adapt can surprise us.

Please vote. I have been talking to people around me who say I will vote, and then say ‘or maybe I will just see how it all plays out’. No. Do not do that.

How in the world would that be a good idea? You just fuel the media, the spectacle. Voting is a way that you participate in the conversation and the future. While the system is flawed and there are problems many, voting is your ability. People have fought and died for you to vote and your apathy is disheartening. We have so many things that others have never had and we take it for granted everyday. There is no reason for it. Voting is one of those things.

And if I hear another, I want to live in Germany anyway (excuse for not voting) I will scream. If you do not vote, you do not participate in the future, not just the US, but all of our future. Do not kid yourself into thinking that politics draws the lines at country lines. They do not. Politics is on a global scale. We cannot shut our eyes and our involvement in the future of the world, our world and our planet.

Change will never happen if we wall ourselves up, if we refuse to be part of the conversation

I am posting this German Update.

As of now I speak at least once (on average) a day in German. This usually involves me describing my book in German, since I read a lot and naturally would want to discuss it in English. I also am subscribed to a German magazine which I read, look up words, and then make flashcards of the words that are the most useful to me. I like this magazine because the articles are current and it is organized, and coded, according to difficulty. Sometimes there are also exercises and there is a site that goes with it which provides more articles and other things designed to make the magazine better. I am also working through my various Grammar books and doing exercises in Grammar. Mostly because, for some reason, German grammar is that sore spot. Not because I am bad at it, although it is not my forte, but because I am fascinated (not totally in a good way with it). It gets under my skin and I long to sit it in an interrogation room and shake it. Also to yell, Why? at it. As of now, there has been little progress on using actual German textbooks. Hopefully when I am done with the German exercises, I can incorporate the textbooks because they are really well organized by lesson.

I cannot figure out why, it just requires a lot more work and self dedication for the textbooks. Although I think that my day already has a lot of self dedication, so it is more, when I finish the exercises, I will work on those. My goal is always to do some formal German each day in the form of exercises and what not, not only speaking.

As for my relationship with German. I cannot say that has improved, except this new found motivation to do better at German is due to a lot of factors. I could be dishonest and say one day it just clicked and I realized that the key to a happier life is more German. But that is a flat out lie and also not true. My life consists of happy days, but German is not the fix all. It is not that magical pill that will make all my days perfect. I could say then that I have accepted my tenuous and stressed relationship with it, but that is not entirely true. I still feel very upset sometimes and those days are harder to do German. But I can say that, to be completely frank, it stems from a competition. No, someone did not bet me, but a distant friend of mine is learning German and my idea was always that my German was better. But now, I realize to maintain this I must get better as well (even if the lessons are not improving their German and especially if they are). Their motivation is entirely different than mine, but I am un-apologetically admitting where this motivation, a step in the right direction, is coming from.

I also know it is wrong. My motivation should come from within myself, like my motivation for Yoga and reading. Out of a joy and desire to become better and spend time doing things that I like. But that is not true. So I want to be honest with myself. I do not want to lie to myself. I want to start and end the day with honesty. I am one of those people who am booted by competition in this way. I was always trying to be the best student (not of the class, just the best student I could be). People who are studying and learning motivate me to learn. They push me to be better. So perhaps this is the Western capitalist (I have been reading some Marxist things recently) that is pushing me to be better.

Whatever it is, I am moving forwards (like a shark) and trying to not feel like this is a competition. But at the moment I cannot separate the two. And it is not hurting anyone, except making me learn. So is it so bad at the moment? Perhaps in theory, but this is not touching any other real, or any other part of my life.

So I think we are okay for now. And if this little demon pops its head up again, I can deal with it then (with hopefully more German anyways).

The title. It hit me one day, before I wrote this and before today. Oh my God. I need to start writing my thesis soon. I had been thinking about it and even reading some background books I read for my last thesis, more skim re-reading because it seemed so distant.

But then today, as I had to register for my thesis, it hit me. I need to write this. Not in a year. Now. I need to put that first sentence down before I write 40-60 more pages. I need to prove to people I have my act together, that I know what I want to say and I need to say it with authority.

I need to convince my readers, I know what is what and to listen to me with a shred of patience. Each word is carefully chosen to assert my authority about my novels, which are a hodge podge sometimes and I never, at these moments, think it will come together. My novels of differing class, or differing protagonists, with widely different issues.

I look at this monstrous pile of books, my novels, these notes, and I think, how can I accomplish this?

The uncertainty, and the fact that all these ideas, all my research, I need to put down onto paper. I need people to believe me, or not and tear me apart.

I know it will get done, but as I begin to walk down this really dark and windy path, I have fear how. Each step seems perilous and uncertain. The first step is the hardest I think. Like the wire walker (from the film, The Walk) it is about confronting the void. There is nothing, just a cursor that blinks at you with a (and is this just me) condescending tempo. You stand at the precipice and you say, I see you. I see you and I can triumph over you.

The first sentence begins.

Driving, or to be precise, riding, in Germany is terrifying sometimes. You forget after time the speed you can drive at until the utter danger is presented to you and you think ‘Oh my goodness, this could be it’.

I usually get sweaty hands and clench my jaw. But something else I do is press my foot down to the brake, well the imaginary brake. It is one of my worst nightmares, and I have had it, to be in a car (driving) and unable to stop it, despite using the brake. So when I feel like the brake needs to be pressed, my food instantly presses the imaginary one.

I do not mind driving, however, the speed is so scary. It would be alright in a world where only we existed, or even in a world where people were all like us. OR in a world where people stayed on the right, because that is where a huge problem lies. In Germany people are better about it, but it would make my life a lot better if they were a lot better at it.

So please, stay on the right unless you are passing.

I mean you can never prepare yourself for an unexpected death. But in those moments you become acutely aware of the fact that you are in a metal box on wheels, just like the feeling I get when we land a plane (metal long box with smaller wheels a lot like a paper airplane).

I do not know how to end this post. The speed is fine and tons of people do it, I mean this is the country for speed.

I guess what scares me is not speed, but is the unpredictability of people. They do stupid things and you cannot stop it and all you can do is try to react quickly enough. Speed did not kill people, other people killed them. In essence.

So perhaps this fear is not a fear of cars, or speed, but more a metaphor for life, and how scary people (and their unpredictability) can be.

It is really hard to be ‘on’ all the time. I am talking about the feeling you get when you have guests for a long time, or maybe only a day, but it requires your attention and cleaning and what not, and that feeling at the very end where you think, ‘I just want one moment to myself’.

Sometimes extended visits, not to home, but other places, feel like that. Having to be ‘on’ from the moment your feet leave the room to when you have that safe space again. I like to be a host, and I think I can be a decent guest. But I am very sensitive to having time to be ‘off’. I need it because otherwise I feel like I am ready to scream, but even more than that, if I don’t, then I get sick.

Inner turmoil always results in physical sickness for me. Sad inside, sick outside. So Alone time is not only restorative, but also necessary for me. I also am a very introverted person for the majority of the time and require there to be time where I just read or what not and I truly enjoy these things. Fixing small meals, reading, laying on the couch, etc. Alone time can be a good thing.

It is also important to separate having time for oneself, and separate time. Just because someone wants alone time, does not mean they need space from a person, it can mean that though, but it does not necessarily mean that. It just means they need some ‘off’ time or some reflection time.

There isn’t a long purpose to this, or even a reason I wrote this, but it is just an idea I wrote down on my long list of ideas I want to write about and wanted to talk about my thoughts regarding it.

My first review is up on utopia-state-of-mind.thr3.de  it is a review of Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. I would encourage you to take a look at it and leave me some feedback here!

Things you might have wanted to see (or not), what is helpful, what you look for in a review, etc. I would love some feedback! And you can always go to the bottom of the page and subscribe to that website as well. I am trying to post one new review there once a week!

I hope it pleases you all, even if it’s just a sign of progress and setting my feet on a path (wherever it takes me)!

I would encourage you to take a look, subscribe if you like it (or believe in its beginnings) and share it with others who might like it. I am trying to get my friends and family to subscribe and share so I can get a sense of what I am doing and how to change my style. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

(My goal is 30 subscribers, hopefully this is just an initial goal)

I was recently reminded of how even just a generation above me how different things are for women, in terms of domestic work. How much they are expected by society to perform, how isolating, and how much little gratitude and respect.

TO BE CLEAR, I am not talking about anyone in particular, I am just speaking from experience, and also things I have heard from my friends. ALSO I should say that this is not at all solved nor is not the case for today.

I shall present two examples, one from my generation, and one from a previous one.

Previous one: A couple where the female was expected, through comments and experience, to clean up after meals and to prepare beforehand. After the meal, no help was offered, and none asked. Everyone knew their roles. The man had his work, whatever that means, and the woman her her work (both in the sense of housework and in her lesser important work she found important).

My generation (and from me): I was cooking a meal for myself and others and no one offered to help me, even though I would have liked company. I was very upset by this, and when I voiced this, it was met with something along the lines of well the meal you were cooking was quite simple and didn’t need help, but if you wanted help you could have asked. To which I was upset, because their lack of help (which would have happened if the meal was ‘more complicated’) was based on their judgement of the easiness of the meal. Something I thought it irrelevant. The meal was meant for not just me and even just an offer would have been appreciated. But it also speaks to something I have seen and experienced. That, often, men decide that their time is worth more. They leave us waiting at the table for them to find a space in their time they can break, or just put whatever they are doing down, while we, wait. Waiting. Something I hate. There’s a difference between once in a while needing time to make a break, then a systematic difference.

And I should, at this moment, take a moment to make that distinction. I am not speaking about isolated incidents, I am speaking about systemic incidents, subconscious events, things we don’t even realize we are doing, because those are the ones we are so used to doing. These events are the dangerous ones because they are so ingrained in us, that we confronted we often say “I didn’t know I was doing it”. I am not blaming or pointing fingers. I am asking for a little self interrogation, some quiet moments spent in reflection, where you look at your parents, the media, your friends, and you think critically and, trying to be, objectively. (Because I always find I have to put out these disclaimers, so that some people don’t immediately become enraged and persecute me [which may sound ridiculous to you, but it would surprise you how much time in my life goes into making my words as logical and objective sounding so that some people’s feelings are not instantly enraged, and how often that fails].

Who makes the meals in your home? Who cleans up after them or after the space in general? Who becomes the most invested in the cleanliness? And why does(not) the other person(s) help?

Just think about it. I know my opinions, but perhaps you didn’t even realize your own.

But this echoes so many conversations I have had with my friends, about themselves, their mothers, about their values of time as opposed to their significant other.And conversations I have had with people about the value of their time versus mine. So many. So so many. Because, my time is worth something god damn it! Excuse my language, but I want to scream that from the roof top. Because my friend’s time is worth something. Because everyone’s time is worth something.

You may be asking, well what do we do after this?

I cannot give tailored advice, but I can say, perhaps, try to pitch in occasionally or just a simple gratitude can change the course. Because that, often for me, is all I want.

Just a simple: I acknowledge what you are doing, that you are using your time, and I appreciate it. I see you. I see what you are doing. I want to say thank you.

Our world is not perfect. There is injustice, inequality, and cruelty. But it is still a lot better than earlier worlds before, more equal than before.

I was recently in a situation in which I felt like I was constantly being steam rolled, ignored, and pushed around. It felt like my voice didn’t matter and because of this, my identity didn’t matter (because I associated myself largely with my voice). It felt like I was being flattened against the wall, disappearing, becoming more of the background. And it felt pretty horrible.

And I thought, thank God I do not have to do this everyday. Thank goodness I do not have to have my voice silence, my words ignored, everyday (to which in some situations I do, but for the majority of my life, I don’t). Because I could feel how if I was born in another time, how stifling, constricting, and suffocating it would be.

It would drive me crazy, drive me up the walls, and I thought, Okay, I understand The Yellow Wallpaper more now (a short story by Charlotte Perkins Gilman). I really like that story, it has always made an impression on me. But I could imagine how all these circumstances would make me mute, crazy, and isolated.

At the end of it, I just wanted to get out, to be alone, to be anywhere else. It felt like someone had swaddled me in blankets, and stuck me in the tropics next to a heater. The kind of heat that makes you crazy, that makes you feel like your brain is melting out your ears.

And I thought how horrible it was for women before me, to watch injustice, to feel injustice, and have little ways to escape, no light at the end of the tunnel, just a long haul.

I am happy to be home.

The other lasting thing that this book gave me was a note about finding your own mind harbor.

I’ve started being vigilant about watching my thoughts all day, and monitoring them. I repeat this vow about 700 times a day: ‘I will not harbor unhealthy thoughts anymore.’…The first time I heard myself say this, my inner eat perked up at the word ‘harbor’, which is a noun as well as a verb. A harbor, of course, is a place of refuge, a part of entry. I pictured the harbor of my mind…This island has been through some wars, it is true, but it is not committed to peace, under a new leader (me) who has instituted new policies to protect the place. (Gilbert 178)

This reminded me a) that we have to be our own advocate, to treat ourselves like we would want our loved ones to be treated, to treat ourselves like we treat the most precious thing we have and b) that cultivating positivity is a process we must undergo.

The book goes on to write, what I have to hang up and make my mantra to those inner demons whispering in my ear:

You may not come here anymore with your hard and abusive thoughts, with your plague ships of thoughts, with your slave ships of thoughts, with your warships of thoughts-all these will be turned away. Likewise, any thoughts that are filled with angry or starving exiles, with malcontents and pamphleteers, mutineers and violent assassins, desperate prostitutes, pimps and seditious stowaways-you may not come here anymore, either. Cannibalistic thoughts, for obvious reasons, will no longer be received. Even missionaries will be screened carefully, for sincerity. This is a peaceful harbor, the entryway to a fine and proud island that is only now beginning to cultivate tranquility. If you can abide by these new laws, my dear thoughts, then you are welcome in my mind-otherwise, I shall turn you all back towards the sea from whence you came. That is my mission, and it will never end. (Gilbert 179)

Boy that was a long quote. But it resonated with me and I want to frame it, to read before I leave the house, and start my day, to remind myself to be my best advocate.

On another note, the book asks Liz what her word is, what word describes her. So I shall ask you as well, what one word describes you? As for me, I have no clue.