Learning the Art of Compromise

I am terribly stubborn. I am aware of that. It has something to do with the fact my heritage is Irish-Scottish. After that, my stubbornness seems almost inevitable. My being stubborn has never bothered me before, but it appears that I may have to learn how to compromise.

For many years I have done things my own way in my own time. I like having my own space and being able to create that in exactly the way I want to. This is the first place in my life that I have come to that the time in someone else's life matters as much as the timing in my own. It doesn't mean compromising the timing my own life as much as making slight adjustments.

The art of compromise doesn't really extend to the area of making plans. Those seem to match up all too well. The art of compromise comes from little things, like not getting take-our on nights I can't cook, but letting someoen else cook in a way I wouldn't. Or being able to share the space in my small galley kitchen without attempting to do everything in the way I would.

Amazing how many small things require compromise when you try and share your life with another person. I didn't realize that I was so stuck in my ways myself. After living with a friend who likes everything exactly the way she sets it up, I thought I was extremely flexible. The reality is that I am simply queen of a land called Passive Aggressiva.

When it comes to getting ready to spend a lifetime with someone, compromise seems to be the most powerful tool. I have rarely found that compromise is a worthy end, but there have very rarely been relationships that have been worthy of compromise.

Finding someone who is worthy of learning the art of compromise is special. It's also hard. But worth it when the stakes are high enough.

Waiting to Fly

"That impetus that makes you fly is our great human possession." Herman Hesse

There is a saying that the best thing parents can do is give us roots and also wings. For many years I was more of a roots person. I knew that wings existed and that I have them, but I rarely chose to use them. The most use I ever really got out of the was to move onto the next place to set down roots.

Setting down roots has certainly been my pattern over the past few years. Even when I move between the many important places in my life I still have my roots there. It becomes harder to take the chance to fly when I know the consequences of that may be breaking with some of my roots.

Something has changed in my life over the past year. I am still very connected to all of my roots. Some days I feel that I am too connected to my roots. I don't want to leave certain places because I know that things will change between the time I leave and the time I come back. That has happened multiple times to me over the past two years when I am forced to move between my favorite places. Nothing is ever quite the same.

Despite the fact that I know nothing will be the same, there is a part of me that desperately wants to fly. Not for a long time, because the desires and hopes I have for my life do require me staying in one place and laying down roots, but for a little while. Just so I can know what it feels like to have the wind beneath my wings.

Living in Memory

I have copped to many of my guilty secrets over past blogs, such as being addicted to country music, but what many of you don't know is that I live watching sci-fi TV-shows, specifically the British ones. The last show I have been savoring my addiction to is Torchwood. It's a very good show, mostly about aliens and ghosts which I have to admit is pretty cool.

The last episode that really got me thinking was about a man who came out of the void. The only way he could continue to exist was to implant himself in the memories of those around him. That got me thinking about he purpose of our lives and also our inability to fully exist alone. If no one notices you, if no one remembers you, what kind of life is that? It also begs the question that is no one remember you, have you done more with your life than simply draw breath and take up space on earth?

There are many members of my family who have passed away. For me, they will never really be gone though. They still live on, in the memories I hold of them, in all the stories that are told. They may be gone but they will not be forgotten and so they will continue to live.

Memory is a powerful thing. It retains all the joys and laughter, but it also records the hurt and the pain. Both things are important to remember. Without the pain, the joy would be less joyful and without the joy, the sting of pain would be too deep. Memories do alter over time. The memory of past hurts may dull and lose some of their sting over the time and it will become harder to reach the same heights of ecstasy. Perhaps that is why we cling to memories, because they become more easily kept over time.

Memories are important to hold. In many cases they act as a reminder to us. Sometimes the reminder may be to laugh more and sometimes it may be to not cry so hard. Either way they serve important purposes. The other reason for memory is that as long as you are able to hold the memory of those you love in your heart, they will never be gone. They will live on with you.