Posts Tagged With: curious

wishful dreaming

I had a curious dream last night. Curious because I suspect it was a waking dream. Meaning that it may (or may not) have taken place in that ephemeral place between asleep and awake.
I don’t suppose that actually matters…but I have that nagging feeling that it just might.

I don’t remember how or when it began, or even what actually “happened”. But I do know I was given the opportunity to make three wishes.
Did I rub a lamp?
Was there a genie in a bottle?
Was I listening to Thirteen Tales of Love and Revenge for too long?
Was it just wishful…dreaming?
I have no earthly idea.
But I remember what I wished for.

My first wish: the ability to facilitate healing with the touch of my hand.
I wish this because I’d love to be able to help people¬†who are truly struggling. With physical illness. With emotional illness. Wouldn’t that be an amazing gift to give? AND, I’d like the ability to heal my own brain, please and thank you.

My second wish: to always have the exact purchase price of anything I wanted to buy.
This could mean anything from sending my kids to college to new appliances, from new shoes to a pack of Trident. (spearmint, natch) To always have enough “change in my pocket”.
I would absolutely use this to my advantage, first and foremost to eradicate my dreaded student loan debt. But I would also use it to help and gift the people I love. And most likely, people I hardly even know.

My third wish: for every question I have to be answered with the absolute truth.
I’m talking about the whys and wherefores of things, not questions like, “Does this make my butt look big?” (I’m not sure anyone really wants the truth to that kind of question.)
If I could get answers to my age old questions, perhaps it would help me grow.
What if I could get answers that would help someone find their truest self or potential?
I can see where this wish could be more than I bargained for, I will undoubtedly get answers that would be hurtful. But I could learn from every single answer I get…the good, the bad, the indifferent.

I’m not sure about the first wish, but the second and third wishes are absolutely selfish. To be able to purchase what I need or want as I need or want it would be spectacular, though I suspect the novelty would wear off sooner rather than later. But to help the kids get set up in their lives would be the greatest gift! There are weddings coming, and they’ll need places to live. If I could start them out with what they need for the first year and then let them sort it from there on out. And shoes for me! Think of the shoes!
The third wish is selfish too. I’ve spent my life asking questions with precious few answers. But would answers to my old questions make any difference now?
But what if I could use this ability to help others? I could ask seemingly simple questions and help someone figure out what’s in their truest heart.
That feels more like a ‘using your powers for good and not evil’ kind of situation.

I don’t guess it really matters. There was no lamp. No genie came to me. And I’ve listened to that Pierces album more times than I can count.
Perhaps it was really wishful dreaming.
But isn’t that the best kind?

I’m curious about you and your three wishes. Would you be willing to share them with me?

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on the advice of Nick’s father

Whenever I begin to compare my life to that of someone else, I’m reminded of Nick Carraway’s line at the beginning of Gatsby: In my younger and more vulnerable years, my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since. “Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages you’ve had.”

I’m using the concept rather loosely, less in the way Fitzgerald intended and more along the lines of considering each of us comes from a different place. It has nothing really to do with having, or the lack of “advantages”, and everything to do with point of view.
Each of us is raised with a certain set of values based on our environment and the life experiences of the people who raised us. We take those values and adapt them as we gain our own life experiences. We raise our own children based on these values we were taught and modified for them to continue the process.

I sometimes fail to remember, or perhaps simply take into account this very important advice. I think about the people I know and, I think rather naturally, compare myself to what I see of them. Of course this is futile as we seldom see the reality of an individual, but what they choose to share with the world.

We each behave based on that initial set of values we learned as children, even though we’ve changed them here and there to fit our new world view.

I am accused of being extremely judgmental.
I am a little…to deny this would be a bold face lie. But I’m nowhere near as judgmental as get accused of being.

I question everything.
This can be misconstrued because I ask questions in a way that may not always reflect my desire to understand. I question everything partly because I was brought up in an environment in which questions were ignored or left unanswered and I have a life-long compulsion to have answers. Partly because I’m curious and want to know and understand. I especially want to understand motivations for behavior.
This creates a goodly bit of friction between YBW and me. I ask to know and he hears my question as criticism. Occasionally I ask to criticize, again this goes back to what I experienced as a child, which is no excuse. It is however, the truth. I ask to understand the motivation, the thought process behind it…whatever the “it” is.

When I look at other people and see the differences I have nothing to base my opinion on other than the “advantages” of my upbringing. So I don’t understand why they do or don’t do things. I don’t understand what motivates them. I can only compare it to what I know and understand, what motivates me. I don’t think that’s judgmental.
The stubborn part of me doesn’t feel I should have to rephrase my curiosity so as not offend. Perhaps it’s not stubborn, perhaps it’s that bit of me that was stunted in my childhood. Perhaps because I couldn’t ask questions and get answers, I’m much more inclined to question everything? (The question mark at the end of that sentence is not lost on me.)

I am, have always been, interested in human behavior. The whys and wherefores of the way we behave, make choices, socialize, raise our children. I’m still learning everyday what motivates my behavior, some aspects I accept, some I realize need improvement. But I’m still asking questions. I’ll most likely go to my grave asking questions.

I must remember that I was brought up very differently than some of the people I know. That we will function in completely different ways.
I must remember that though I’m curious to their whys and wherefores I have to be mindful in the way I ask questions.
I must remember that I did have “advantages” that some people didn’t have.
I must remember that I am capable of many things and needn’t compare myself to anyone else.

Will I remember these things? Will I always act upon them?
Most likely not, but if I simply pay attention…I’ll make progress.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

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