This morning I went on a tour with my class to an assisted living residence. The building was gorgeous, it seemed more like a hotel resort than the sterotypical "home." As we walked through, we noticed that many of the residents also did not fit the description of residents in such a building. Most of them were self-sufficiant, and I figured if I had the money, I would probably live some place that has a housekeeper and provides three meals a day, not to mention the ammenities and activities. They had a pool, I mean, this place was nicer than most of the apartments my friends live in.
After awhile on the tour, we came across a wing of the building, seemingly tucked deep within it, where the other residents lived. We walked through a small room that had a few tables set up, resembling a breakroom. Within it there were several woman who looked as if they had no clue what was going on, and if they did, they did not seem happy about it. I suddenly felt embarrassed for them, even if some of them could not possibly feel embarrassment anymore. I felt as if someone should have warned them that a group of healthy, young students would be parading through their home, as if it were some type of field trip. It was just so saddening to see the one woman, head hanging back in her wheelchair, eyes closed as if she was in the eternal sleep. I literally had to look several times to make sure she was breathing.
Then there was a woman who looked simply distressed that we were there, and even more upset that she could no longer formulate the words to describe her emotions. She looked like maybe she had had a stroke, and I almost felt the worst for her.
It was sad, and made me think a lot about what happens on this ride. I want to live each day as if I would live it all over again. I want to always have that feeling that I just had the best experience of my life. And, I think I should be thankful for what I have now. Sure, for most people getting older is a smooth, uninterupted ride that everyone would want to take, however for some getting older is hardly their golden years. Instead, it can be the darkest and most lonliest years of their lives, and I think we forget that too often.
I think that by engaging in this project for the class I am, I will get more out of the experience than the elderly people I encounter.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
A Glimpse....
Today I watched one of my professor's discuss how gratified she feels by her career, how each encounter in her life has led to this position. She commented on how she will always remain in this career, and that she is finally doing something that incorporates all that she has ever enjoyed doing.
As I listened along with the other students, I felt, for the first time in my life this could be my future. I more than felt, I could see myself in her position, or at least something very similar. Maybe I just want the feeling of overjoy that she has over something most people feel as if they have to do: work. It could be the career or simply the happiness associated with finally feeling accomplished.
After hearing her, I truly felt more motivated, and this is something that I have been feeling a lot lately. Like something great is about to happen, and I am just a tiny ripple in the ocean that is about to explode into a smooth, swift wave of positive encounters. Today, I feel empowered by possibility.
As I listened along with the other students, I felt, for the first time in my life this could be my future. I more than felt, I could see myself in her position, or at least something very similar. Maybe I just want the feeling of overjoy that she has over something most people feel as if they have to do: work. It could be the career or simply the happiness associated with finally feeling accomplished.
After hearing her, I truly felt more motivated, and this is something that I have been feeling a lot lately. Like something great is about to happen, and I am just a tiny ripple in the ocean that is about to explode into a smooth, swift wave of positive encounters. Today, I feel empowered by possibility.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Graying America
My fall semester kicked off today with my first class being one I have been looking forward to: The course is a psychology class, which focuses on adult development and the aging process. During the professor's introduction, I learned that not only will I have to attend class twice a week (truly a non-issue, I have not missed a class since I began my college career), however I also need to commit about an hour each week to an elderly person or persons. This causes me discomfort, and not because I am afraid of elderly people, as some of my classmates confessed. I am afraid I do not have the time to commit. My schedule is hectic this session, and I barely have an hour a day to shower and primp, let alone spend with a stranger.
After class I went to the grocery store to buy some cheese for the burgers we would be having this evening. The deli lady, I swear, is someone I know, yet each time I see her, we have nothing more than a professional grocer interaction. I can not place who she is or where she is from. I was starving, and seriously contemplating eating the cheese I had just ordered in the car on the way home and then tell my hubby I forgot to buy some. Then I thought of the calories, so I popped a piece of gum in and told my belly to hold off the bitchfest until I got home and could get a healthy, dairy-free lunch.
During the day, there are not many registers open at the grocery store, and much to my belly and my own dismay, the one that was for 14 items or less had three seniors standing in it, each with a basket full of what I expected to be more than 14 items. I saw the fourth and final senior making her way to the line, and I snuck in, attempting to beat her to the position. She saw me. I felt embarrassed, so I let her go ahead. Then she insisted I go, as I only had my cheese. I suddenly felt cheesier then, well, you know, the cheese. Then the lady in front of me insisted I go ahead, and the final lady who already had her items on the conveyor belt (which, by the way, only invites more than 14 items), insisted I get in front of her. I felt so relieved, and really fortunate for these happy seniors, who were more than willing to let a sneaky youngster get in front of them. If only they had known what I had been thinking just seconds before, regarding their inability to count correctly.
I walked out to my car, a big smile on my face. I mean, a big, shit-eating grin. Getting into my car, I realized this was no chance occurrence. These elderly women made time for me, sacrificed their spot in line. The least I can do is spare them an hour a week. I feel as if the Universe was showing me that not all of them are mean and angry, and that maybe the small gesture of spending time with them once a week would mean the world to them.
After class I went to the grocery store to buy some cheese for the burgers we would be having this evening. The deli lady, I swear, is someone I know, yet each time I see her, we have nothing more than a professional grocer interaction. I can not place who she is or where she is from. I was starving, and seriously contemplating eating the cheese I had just ordered in the car on the way home and then tell my hubby I forgot to buy some. Then I thought of the calories, so I popped a piece of gum in and told my belly to hold off the bitchfest until I got home and could get a healthy, dairy-free lunch.
During the day, there are not many registers open at the grocery store, and much to my belly and my own dismay, the one that was for 14 items or less had three seniors standing in it, each with a basket full of what I expected to be more than 14 items. I saw the fourth and final senior making her way to the line, and I snuck in, attempting to beat her to the position. She saw me. I felt embarrassed, so I let her go ahead. Then she insisted I go, as I only had my cheese. I suddenly felt cheesier then, well, you know, the cheese. Then the lady in front of me insisted I go ahead, and the final lady who already had her items on the conveyor belt (which, by the way, only invites more than 14 items), insisted I get in front of her. I felt so relieved, and really fortunate for these happy seniors, who were more than willing to let a sneaky youngster get in front of them. If only they had known what I had been thinking just seconds before, regarding their inability to count correctly.
I walked out to my car, a big smile on my face. I mean, a big, shit-eating grin. Getting into my car, I realized this was no chance occurrence. These elderly women made time for me, sacrificed their spot in line. The least I can do is spare them an hour a week. I feel as if the Universe was showing me that not all of them are mean and angry, and that maybe the small gesture of spending time with them once a week would mean the world to them.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Minimooning
I have had the most amazing time of my life, for this is truly the "Summer of Love" for myself and a very special person. My boyfriend of over five years and I have committed our lives to one and other, promising ourselves through a beautiful marriage ceremony. The day was picture perfect, beautiful blue clouds that can only be seen along the seacoast; a breeze that felt like cool kisses on our skin; a feeling of excitement and true happiness in the salty air.
We experienced what it is like to become two seperate individuals that have been so overcome with love and fondness for one and other that we felt that marriage was the most precious gift we could give to one and other. Yes, I am still very much on a newlywed bliss high, yet I don't want this feeling of love and pride to ever evaporate.
Following our celebration, we spent the week minimooning. In lieu of an immediate send off to an exotic island the morning after our weddng, we chose to simply play the following week by ear, not allowing anything to take the wind out of our sails. We spent a couple of nights in the town which we were celebrating, and then came home for a few nights. We had an amazing day at the beach, and decide that day to get away for a few nights.
Minimooning is so relaxed, so chill, so perfect. Planning a wedding is certainly stressful, regardless of your calm, cool intentions. I don't like to use the word "stressful," however, because it sounds so negative. We had a blast planning our special event, and although there were times we both felt as if it couldn't get here any sooner- for both the excitement of becoming husband and wife, but also to finish the planning- the whole experience is one I wish for everyone.
Our guests have since expressed how perfect the wedding was, and although I am bias of course, it truly was the best wedding I have ever witnessed. The ceremony was personal but sweet, the reception venue was taken out of a dream, and the atmosphere and energy in the night was intoxicating.
I have truly had the best time, the proverbial "time of my life." Not only did we get married and have an amazing minimoon, I had met the nicest and warmest older lady at the hotel we stayed at following our wedding. Her and I had met in the elevator the evening before our wedding, and had exchanged a few smiles and hellos. During the evening of our wedding, she presented us with a beautifully and carefully written note of congratulations. We were both intrigued with her thoughtfullness, her aura. My husband said he felt as if he met a celebritity, she was simply wonderful. The night after our wedding, we were sitting on the balcony of or suite, and I got the urge to go check the door to ensure it was locked. As I approached the door, I immediately noticed that another note had been quietly slipped through the door.
We read the note together, and found that she truly was a celebritiy.... Even though on a small scale compared to the overpaid celebrities, she was still an extraordinary person. She had enclosed with her note a little brochere of sorts that was a biography of her life. Come to find out, not only was she an active member of the community, she was a also a writer. This, I do not find, to be a coincidence. I feel as if I met her in order to energize my desires, to overcome my fears, and to just start doing something about my passion.
Instantly, I knew that I had to create this blog. It has been a dream of mine to write and be read, and hopefully, someday paid!
I hope to encounter this woman again. She is wonderful, insightful, intuitive, and amazing.
We experienced what it is like to become two seperate individuals that have been so overcome with love and fondness for one and other that we felt that marriage was the most precious gift we could give to one and other. Yes, I am still very much on a newlywed bliss high, yet I don't want this feeling of love and pride to ever evaporate.
Following our celebration, we spent the week minimooning. In lieu of an immediate send off to an exotic island the morning after our weddng, we chose to simply play the following week by ear, not allowing anything to take the wind out of our sails. We spent a couple of nights in the town which we were celebrating, and then came home for a few nights. We had an amazing day at the beach, and decide that day to get away for a few nights.
Minimooning is so relaxed, so chill, so perfect. Planning a wedding is certainly stressful, regardless of your calm, cool intentions. I don't like to use the word "stressful," however, because it sounds so negative. We had a blast planning our special event, and although there were times we both felt as if it couldn't get here any sooner- for both the excitement of becoming husband and wife, but also to finish the planning- the whole experience is one I wish for everyone.
Our guests have since expressed how perfect the wedding was, and although I am bias of course, it truly was the best wedding I have ever witnessed. The ceremony was personal but sweet, the reception venue was taken out of a dream, and the atmosphere and energy in the night was intoxicating.
I have truly had the best time, the proverbial "time of my life." Not only did we get married and have an amazing minimoon, I had met the nicest and warmest older lady at the hotel we stayed at following our wedding. Her and I had met in the elevator the evening before our wedding, and had exchanged a few smiles and hellos. During the evening of our wedding, she presented us with a beautifully and carefully written note of congratulations. We were both intrigued with her thoughtfullness, her aura. My husband said he felt as if he met a celebritity, she was simply wonderful. The night after our wedding, we were sitting on the balcony of or suite, and I got the urge to go check the door to ensure it was locked. As I approached the door, I immediately noticed that another note had been quietly slipped through the door.
We read the note together, and found that she truly was a celebritiy.... Even though on a small scale compared to the overpaid celebrities, she was still an extraordinary person. She had enclosed with her note a little brochere of sorts that was a biography of her life. Come to find out, not only was she an active member of the community, she was a also a writer. This, I do not find, to be a coincidence. I feel as if I met her in order to energize my desires, to overcome my fears, and to just start doing something about my passion.
Instantly, I knew that I had to create this blog. It has been a dream of mine to write and be read, and hopefully, someday paid!
I hope to encounter this woman again. She is wonderful, insightful, intuitive, and amazing.
Recognizing an Encounter
I came up with the title for this blog a really long time ago, and have wanted to eventually publish a book that goes more in depth, something that I can conduct research for and then dive into writing an amazing piece of work.
Everyone experiences or encounters events on a daily basis, and at times we want to share them right away. Sometimes we are overcome with joy, and other times we are frustrated and just need to sound off. Then, there are times when we cannot find anything interesting about our day's events, yet I think if you look deep enough, you can find something to share, something to talk about
en·coun·ter
Pronunciation: \in-ˈkau̇n-tər, en-\
Function: verb
Inflected Form(s): en·coun·tered; en·coun·ter·ing \-ˈkau̇n-t(ə-)riŋ\
Etymology: Middle English encountren, from Anglo-French encuntrer, from Medieval Latin incontrare, from Late Latin incontra toward, from Latin in- + contra against — more at counter
Date: 14th century
transitive verb
1 a : to meet as an adversary or enemy b : to engage in conflict with
2 : to come upon face-to-face
3 : to come upon or experience especially unexpectedly
intransitive verb
: to meet especially by chance
Function: noun
Date: 14th century
1 : a meeting between hostile factions or persons : a sudden often violent clash
2 a : a chance meeting
3 : a coming into the vicinity of a celestial body
"encounter." Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary. 2009.
Merriam-Webster Online. 30 August 2009
The definition provides proof that no encounter lacks significance. An encounter is anything from a chance meeting, to an argument, to a transaction of communication between two people, even an example of love and romance. Encounters can be revealing, enlightening, educational, sometimes disappointing.
As I write this, I imagine which recent encounter I want to start this blog off with. I have one in mind, although it is more of an accumulation of recent events. I will post it under the title "Minimoon," and if you feel you want to read my experience, continue on to the next post, and come back for more soon.
Everyone experiences or encounters events on a daily basis, and at times we want to share them right away. Sometimes we are overcome with joy, and other times we are frustrated and just need to sound off. Then, there are times when we cannot find anything interesting about our day's events, yet I think if you look deep enough, you can find something to share, something to talk about
en·coun·ter
Pronunciation: \in-ˈkau̇n-tər, en-\
Function: verb
Inflected Form(s): en·coun·tered; en·coun·ter·ing \-ˈkau̇n-t(ə-)riŋ\
Etymology: Middle English encountren, from Anglo-French encuntrer, from Medieval Latin incontrare, from Late Latin incontra toward, from Latin in- + contra against — more at counter
Date: 14th century
transitive verb
1 a : to meet as an adversary or enemy b : to engage in conflict with
2 : to come upon face-to-face
3 : to come upon or experience especially unexpectedly
intransitive verb
: to meet especially by chance
Function: noun
Date: 14th century
1 : a meeting between hostile factions or persons : a sudden often violent clash
2 a : a chance meeting
3 : a coming into the vicinity of a celestial body
"encounter." Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary. 2009.
Merriam-Webster Online. 30 August 2009
The definition provides proof that no encounter lacks significance. An encounter is anything from a chance meeting, to an argument, to a transaction of communication between two people, even an example of love and romance. Encounters can be revealing, enlightening, educational, sometimes disappointing.
As I write this, I imagine which recent encounter I want to start this blog off with. I have one in mind, although it is more of an accumulation of recent events. I will post it under the title "Minimoon," and if you feel you want to read my experience, continue on to the next post, and come back for more soon.
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