ASPZ

Never satisfied...

I guess we all know that feeling: checking something off your list, moving on directly to the next task … without even enjoying the feeling of accomplishment. Haven’t we all stared at the ceiling at night, making mental to-do lists, fighting the urge to just get up and get shit done just so that we can go back to sleep? Or is it just me? Lately, I feel that no matter how much I do, it’s never enough. And of course, I get frustrated by people around me that just go with the flow… when I should learn from them. Things always have a way to work themselves out, no? Or is it because there’s always somebody to pick up the slack? I’m impatient (don’t smile, I know it’s the understatement of the year). So if things don’t get done, I’ll take over with the risk of becoming resentful… and cranky (feeling of the day). Do I allow enough time for other people to take initiatives? Probably not… Is it healthy to want to do something perfectly or not at all? I’m contempleting dropping off from my Spanish class because I can’t focus enough on it to get the best possible grades. And from my point of view, what’s the point of showing up for finals if I’m not going to ace it? I guess sometimes I feel it’d be easier not to give a damn about the little things. But for me and my fellow control-freaks, perfectionists, it just ain’t that easy to let go….

Sometimes, you just feel powerless...

I just hung up the phone and I can’t help but wonder if I said the right things. One one my very good friends has been staying with us this week as her dad is dying from cancer and she wanted to be close to the hospice where he has been relocated.

And this afternoon, she called me and told me she thought today was the day. The nurse called her when she was on the bus, on her way to the hospice, telling her to hurry…. And when she got to there, he was asleep and they’re not sure if he’s going to wake up. She wanted to say goodbye. She wanted him to know that she was there.

So I’m hoping with all my heart that he will open his eyes and that it will provide her the peace she needs to deal with this tragedy.

There’s nothing that I can say that will make her feel better. I guess I did the best I could. Told her I love her, that she can count on me, that I’m thinking about her and sending her strenght… but that must sound futile. Maybe I’m wrong and it helps… I hope it does…

On Friendship

I’ve been thinking about Friendship a lot lately. And the capital “F” is no typo. Maybe I’m too demanding, maybe my standards are too high? Nah – I should be picky, I’m awesome =o)

So what is Friendship? In French and Swedish, there are 2 words for “friends” (Ami, copain / Vän, kompis) but how do you categorize? And right now, I’m talking about “Vänner” and “Amis”, not “kompisar” and “copains” – I have a lot of those here!

A Friend is somebody you can feel free to call to vent or share a happy feeling and they listen. They don’t judge, they don’t give you unwelcome advice, they don’t pretend they know exactly how you feel because they know they don’t; everybody is different. And they don’t make you feel that their problems are bigger than yours. And they don’t make you feel bad for feeling happy when they’re not.

I learned that a Friend is someone I trust to be with me when I am at my weakest and most vulnerable. Friendship is a trust that’s returned. Trust but also support, communication, loyalty, understanding, empathy, and intimacy.

Friendship is something you do; it’s a balanced relationship between people. That doesn’t mean it’s always balanced at every moment. Sometimes you need a Friend and other times it’s the other way. A Friend is extended family.

You go out into the world and do your best. You have your ups and downs, your problems and triumphs, your fun and tribulations. You charm and you perform.

Then you come “home” to a Friend. You can relax and put your feet up.

That’s what a Friendship is to me. Love with a big “L”.

La part de l'autre - book review

“On the 8th October 1908, Adolf Hitler was refused entry to the Fine Art Academy in Vienna. What would have happened if the jury had decided otherwise and accepted him? That decision would have changed the course of a life, the life of a timid, impassioned youth, the life of Adolf Hitler. But it would also have changed the course of the world.”

~The Alternative Hypothesis~ (La part de l’autre) - Eric-Emmanuel Schmidt

That summary intrigued me. So I read this book and it’s absolutely out of this world — breathtaking.

Based on historical facts, it draws 2 portraits:

1. The first one is a historical portrait of the Hitler we know, responsible for the death of 55 million people
2. The second portrait is a hypothetical portrait of Hitler - if he had been admitted to the Fine Art Academy and had accomplished his long-life dream: becoming a painter.

Chapter after chapter, the one who has failed is opposed to the one who has succeeded. The one who failed is called Hitler. He was refused by the artistic world. The one who has been accepted by this empyrean is called Adolf H.

The author chose to focus on his early years and the description of the shy, puritan, passionate and considerate Adolf is disconcerting. Orphan at 18, he cherishes the memory his mother who died of breast cancer, has a profound respect (even fear) of women, and was raised to despise anti-Semitism and intolerance. He even refuses to eat meat – his vegetarianism is in part a reflection of his well-known love for animals (and his admiration for the composer Richard Wagner who promoted vegetarianism in his essays). At the beginning, this guy was not so different from us — as a child, as a young man; he was no monster. And I’m surprised, horrified at finding this character quite human – I can almost identify with him!! A little impulsive, passionate and extreme at times (those who know me will understand)….but human. Schmitt is trying to demonstrate that no man was ever born a monster. One too many rejections sent him over the edge. Who can’t relate to that? Under the right circumstances, who knows what we’re capable of? That’s what the book is about.

Risky topic — but that’s what great literature is made of!! The author is using empathy without feeling any sympathy at all. He is not trying to justify Hitler’s actions. Yet, this tale is unsettling, disturbing…More, it’s a shockwave; we’re reminded that we all have a dark and deadly side that lays sleeping in us. It is a great literary piece which forces us to ask ourselves disturbing questions. It is a human, terrible, fascinating book. A simple lesson: in life, making the wrong choice is the most frequent mistake of all. Fate is nothing else but an illusion.