Schwagglebury

A dusty old place that keeps records of ruminations.

[schwagglebury]

Love the PROCESS more than the OUTCOME

So you’ve decided to make the switch. For years, focusing on the outcome has served you best, got you some worthy achievements maybe, or got you through tight deadlines at work. Cause that’s what happened to me. Let me tell you how I am learning to love my process more than its outcome.

When you’re about to dive in to your thing:

Forget your thoughts, just do it. Do it, whether it’s painting, cleaning, organizing, cooking, dancing, gardening, writing. Do what you usually do, technique-wise, everything; just don’t think of what it will look like after or what others would think of your final work. Let go of perfect expectations, perfect doesn’t exist. Plus good work takes time and practice. No overthinking, free your mind, and trust that you’re going to like what you’re doing. Grab your tools, eliminate preconceived notions and just, do, it. 

When you’re done:

Dissect the process and identify the parts where you enjoyed the most. This objective approach has convinced me that I liked the process rather than the outcome. By pinpointing the specific parts that you enjoy, your brain will most likely tell you that you enjoy doing the whole thing. It’s okay to not like a certain part of the process, it’s part of the fun, and you learn stuff from what you don’t like. Take drawing as an example. When you dissect that, you get gathering references, sketching, shading, outlining. Personalize the dissection of your process, and throw in listen to lofi beats, snack break, or take shower. Make it fun. Own the process, make it yours.

If you find out you don’t like most parts of the process:

Live, laugh, love. Take the dislike lightly. Reflect and ask yourself why, then reassess your goals. When I learned I get anxiety from mixing my paints, I didn’t want to believe it. I had been anxious of running out of paint since I only had a limited number. I still have that anxiety until now, so I reassessed my goal. I want to enjoy painting, so I am planning to save and invest of a certain number of paint tubes. We have different situations for this, but in general, self-reflection helps, knowing the reasons of the dislike, reassessing and decide to continue or not. In the end, you don’t have to force yourself to like doing something you’re not comfortable doing - know your boundaries. If you’re willing though, learn to love what you do. Life’s too short not to try out new things.

Up until now, I am still learning to love the processes of every little hobby that I loved previously for their outcomes. Forgetting any thoughts that could hinder my process before doing it kickstarted my worry-free motivation. Objectively dissecting the process and identifying the most enjoyable parts kept me going, and listing down the personalized aspects of my process gives me ownership, makes it more fun and less as a chore, which is one of my hindering thoughts. Finally, I decided to go for it and love the process, because the advantages weighed more than the aspects I dislike in the process. 

Our situations may vary and this list might not be for you. These have worked well for me so I’m sharing this here so others may get insights from my experience.

[schwagglebury]

How to rationalize a bad situation

You get out of a bad situation, alive, fighting and kicking. When you reflect on it, remember that it is possible to regard the process as ‘bad’, even damaging and painful, while still treating the outcome as ‘good’, satisfying, or just good enough. 

In its entirety, that bad situation is a bad situation. But when dissected, what you get are bad moments, good moments, lots of reflections, insights, learnings. 

It is okay to think that ‘it could’ve been worse’, because there are just things in life we could not control, and unfortunate events that we would not know would happen. 

Whether I regard the outcome as ‘good’ or ‘bad’, I have to move forward. In one way or another, the situation changed me, and I will heal if there’s healing needed.

[schwagglebury]

What should NOT be glorified

When life takes a wrong turn, glorification of some of my unpleasant undertakings becomes one of my coping mechanisms. It is not only easy to exclaim - it also looks appealing to share my romanticization to other people, as it seems to stem from ‘positive thinking’ at first glance. It also allows new meanings to develop, but in a means to an end kind of way.

However, I must correct myself and break this cycle of glorifying the wrong things. It is possible to acknowledge the hardwork that I put into improving a situation without glorifying my hardships for reasons such as ‘it was meant to happen to teach me something’. A loved one does not fall ill nor die to ‘teach’ me important lessons in life. It is more appropriate to say that although the situation has put me into a difficult state, I have learned things from it. 

My hardships are not medals, especially those that sprung from unexpected bad events. I did not choose to be in those bad situations. When you look at a medal you earned in the past, you would remember that contest you were in, the challenges you went through, and the winning moment. When you look at a medal, you glorify the process because the outcome was just good, you’re allowed to sit back and tell yourself that the process was as good too. Moreover, it was your choice to participate in that contest, and maybe it was your intention to win. That does not equate with being involved in hardships. 

Being involved in a hard situation is like going towards a downward negative slope from a net of zero, and surviving that hardship is like going towards an uphill slope, but going from the negative to a zero or normal and doesn’t necessarily have a positive net. Whereas joining a contest is similar to going towards an uphill slope, from a net of zero to a positive number, and ending the contest depending on your status if you won or lose can be any positive net or the worse is zero, and a negative slope is most likely not going to happen.

Why shouldn’t I glorify my hardships? When I do, I allow myself to romanticize the process, the process which I shouldn’t have gone through if only precautions were followed. When I do, I tell myself that all the pain I’ve gone through was something that was supposed to happen, because in the end everything came out okay. I shouldn’t glorify my hardships. I should allow myself to feel hurt with the realization that the situation was definitely unfortunate, no other false rationalizations. Recalling my hard moments is painful. But it is what it is. Painful unwanted moments, not the process I ‘deserved’ to go through to get to the outcome.

I should allow myself to take the time to mourn what I’ve gone through, to let myself go through a good cry. Then I would be able to make out what I need. Maybe I need help. I am not superhuman. 

When I don’t regard my hardships as badges, I am able to identify where it went wrong and learn from it. I should not be influenced to continue glorifying the wrong things by others who say ‘I am strong and I don’t shed tears’. Their intent is to possibly make me feel better, but I should not internalize what they say to the point of glorifying my situation. Let those accountable be known, while also letting myself be responsible enough to be accountable of what I aim to do. 

Perhaps, toughen up only at first. What I need to do shortly afterwards is to process the reality of what happened and acknowledge the thought that life can be unfair. We’ll be okay soon.

[schwagglebury]

Boring film > Entertaining film (Prejudice Prattle: 01)

Do you subconsciously believe a boring film is superior to an entertaining film?

I am not a Cinema major. But I did notice that this was a stereotype when initially determining the quality of a film, when I began to take up my Fine Arts course. 

I don’t think that is true. I have watched boring and entertaining films that are good based on my standards and interests. There are more aspects in a film to consider when one seriously judges a film’s quality, not just based on the effect the film wanted the audience to have. Also, if the filmmaker’s desired reaction from the audience was your reaction, then the film might have suceeded on that aspect alone.

When did this stereotype begin? How did it start to become a stereotype? What influenced it? Did someone specifically push this idea? Or was this a collective effect of an event that affected the film industry and filmmaker’s ideals?

Image is from the film, Little Women.

[schwagglebury]

Iron Man, change, and purpose (Film Pickings: 02)

Oh, superheroes and their human-ness albeit the weight of the duties that they carry!

In Iron Man, you can see an apathetic, smart (but not wise), rich guy named Tony Stark transform into an inspired and purposeful Tony Stark, plus the alcohol.

I am reminded, in this human body that I have, despite my insignificance in this huge universe, that I am fully able to contribute something to the table, and I can do that whenever, wherever. It would be an overstatement to say that I can change the world, not after watching Iron Man though.

At this very moment, I know I am changing. Slowly, day by day, my mindset and beliefs evolve. Some hardships hasten this character evolution though, like Stark being taken away to the caves (they say), him unexpectedly standing face to face with death. He would’ve never thought that would happen. That situation enabled him to zoom out and see the bigger picture, what’s happening, where he fits and what’s his role, and ultimately, how he can help improve it. Hardships take you to the deepest parts of the oceans, really, and it’s up to you how you swim back to the top, or if you even bother save yourself from drowning.

When someone truly important to me fell seriously ill, a bell rang in my mind. I knew I was the most capable to help, and I did. I knew I had to, and that I desired to, because of my love for that person. I refused to believe that I can lose that person. And when Stark learned that his company’s vision puts many lives of innocent people at stake, he is quickly adamant in changing the company’s ways. He knew what he gotta do. This was going to be his legacy.

Apparently, we, ordinary humans, don’t carry the weight of superhero responsibilities, in the likes of Iron Man whose change in mindset was needed to drive the bad guys away and save lots of human lives; but we, our changed mindsets, teamed with a newfound purpose, can directly affect other human lives, especially those close to us. When we learn how to love better, we try to love better. When we learn that our planet is slowly dying, we do our duty to be as sustainable as possible in our lifestyles. You don’t need to be Tony Stark to save the world; you just need the will to change for the better, maybe wait for a hardship to change you (learn it the hard way they say), and discover a purpose (there’s a lot of ways to do this if you haven’t found yours, just be open-minded and explore). And also it doesn’t have to be just one purpose, as it is possible to love doing more than one thing.

We pass through and interfere with other people’s lives like how a drop of water causes a ripple across an untouched body of water. Tony Stark may have caused waves, but we, as a collective whole, cause waves too, though we just don’t know it because we don’t completely realize these effects of our collective doing. For Tony Stark, definitely, his life will be a life worth living.

[schwagglebury]

My July

I feel sad. Today feels and looks better. But it seems endless - the in between. I'm not sure what I live for, except for the fact that someone I dearly care for needs me at the moment.

When I look up at the sky, I inquire quietly if it was the same sky as before?

I would secretly feel that it is unfair for others not to go through the same hardship that I was having, shamefully aware of my lack of empathy and my growing bitterness towards life.

This is a hard time for everyone.

I have been getting hostile thoughts, and I don't want them, not ever. I always attempt to push them away, but I am aware that my efforts are not enough. I don't talk to my best friend about it, and I try not to even talk to my best friend anymore, scared that I might tell her what I truly feel, scared that I might burden her with my thoughts.

I have a multitude of things to be thankful for. Nevertheless I feel differently. If only feelings were based on rational things, I would feel appreciative every day.

I know it will get better. And it will keep on getting better. While that goes on, I never forget to be careful and be wary of change. With some replaying trauma in my sleep, that is what my brain is readying for - another instance of that trauma happening again.

Albeit all, I remain hopeful and sad and exhausted. There is no happy resolution with this self-reflection, and I am sorry to the one reading this who is other than me. I cannot write phrases that do not reflect what I feel.

It will get better.

[schwagglebury]

Dear self

Dear self,

Please don’t get mad at yourself for not being able to sleep well. You are restless. You are thinking of a multitude of things. Breathe and be kind.

Dear self,

Please don’t get mad at yourself for not being able to be calm as you wanted yourself to be. This time in your life is different, I would say a bit turbulent - you are still learning the ways, still learning how to ride this brand new unfamiliar wave.

Dear self,

Please don’t get mad at yourself for not being able to take care of yourself enough. You are already exhausted. You may have skipped doing most of your hobbies and daily self-care, but know that this cycle can still be changed. Have patience and be your own best friend.  

Dear self,

Please don’t get mad at yourself for not fulfilling your own expectations. You have been doing your best, and being too hard on yourself will not in any way motivate you to carry on. Being celebrative of your efforts will.

Dear self,

Remember to stay kind to others, doesn’t matter if they’re those who are close to you or just strangers. Avoid lashing out to them to release pent up bad energy. Let out that energy through engaging in activities that make you feel good. 

Ultimately, please remember to be kind to yourself. 

[schwagglebury]

5-minute break away

What can I write in 5 minutes?

I don’t have the luxury of time, but I have the privilege of choice - to choose to write even just for a measly 5 minutes. 

Today I woke up in a world incredibly different from the one I was living in 3 months ago. I can choose to live in that previous world, using my privilege of choice, and act as if nothing happened to me and to everybody. I will not do that, under any circumstances.

I break away for 5 minutes to rest, not to completely abandon what is in front of me. So the choice to ignore what is happening appears to be only a coping mechanism. I cannot escape.

I am contented I am able to write, and imagine that I have control over things. I will write again soon - if I get another 5 minutes.

[schwagglebury]

When the Weather is Fine, a ray of sunlight (Series Pickings: 01)

A simple life is a happy life.

This drama series has reminded me that happiness also manifests in the small things. Making coffee. Cleaning the house. Reading a book. Helping a friend. Lim Eun Sop, the male lead, was the embodiment of that. I am at a stage in life where one should be hustling and grinding, perhaps even double time, to set off a stellar career. This series was a breather. Some time, I listened to my favorite classical music and it didn’t set my heart racing anymore, nor the music was being invasive again, violently weaving through my thoughts as if it can read my mind. I felt that my bedroom window view was something that I should appreciate again. The sky should be a sight I could freely stare at while I silently share my thoughts into it - it may be huge and indifferent, but at least it doesn’t echo the thoughts I shared back to me. The mundane capitalistic way of life encourages my mind to do just that, and although I am aware and that I do get pleasure from doing the little things from time to time, I still forget every once in a while. Like Mok Hae Won’s realization and feeling when she visited her hometown during the first episodes. Life was different, and slower. When she got a job at the bookstore, there was not much to do, but she liked it. On top of that is the warmth expressed by Eun Sop to her, which made her feel more wanted and appreciated. Jae Won, Eun Sop’s close friend, also shared this sentiment in the last episode, admitting to Eun Sil, Jae Won’s love interest, that his simple mundane job at their hometown’s city hall was his happiness, and that amidst him being a graduate from a top university in Korea which supposedly guaranteed him ‘better’ opportunities to go big. He knows what makes him happy.

[schwagglebury]

Howl’s Moving Castle bothered me (Film Pickings: 01)

I have never felt this fearless while watching a film.

Literally. I sensed I had this unfamiliar feeling throughout the whole film - a lack of fear. As if failure didn’t exist. As if everything will be guaranteed ‘okay’. A couple of characters had been caught under their own spells thus they had to deal with all the newness compulsorily (especially Sophie). Nonetheless, no one was left behind, and everyone was loved and forgiven of their doings, even the Witch of Waste. The only trace of evil I’ve identified is the Queen, who had enabled the war to happen. In scenes wherein she had interactions with the main characters, she had tried to ‘playfully’ manipulate them. However, she wasn’t as steel-hearted and stubborn as most villains, as she had agreed to end the war when she knew that her ‘games and fun’ were over. The film’s ending has the essence of a cinematic ‘happy ending’, which is why...

I felt betrayed. 

The film was too good in its own kind - it let me inside a world both mysterious and familiar but it never attempted to scare me away. The feeling of betrayal only comes to you when you had previously, genuinely liked who betrayed you.  I liked Howl’s world but I realized that in reality, not everybody is saved and loved and not left behind. I felt betrayed as I tried to make sense of my reality through the film. It was painfully fictional - a slap in my face. 

[schwagglebury]

On Happiness

Why are our eyes drawn to light?

When we wake up from sleep, our eyes would search for the brightest thing in our sight. It is because some sensors in our eyes are activated by light. It is innate to us, humans. 

Is it the same for our search for happiness?

A famous author once said, the desire for a positive experience is itself a negative experience. By searching for happiness, we acknowledge we’ve not quite found it yet. Clearly, this is not as easy as our eyes being automatically drawn to light.

What does happiness look like anyway? Can we touch, taste, or smell it? Or have we, already? In what form does happiness come? 

We may not have a universal definition for happiness, but we do have a rough idea, a sort of universal feeling. Generally, it gives us pleasure, a pleasure that may come as warm and exciting, as slow and stimulating, or as intense and powerful, but fleeting. No one has figured it all out. We just somehow know, because we’ve experienced it. Despite that, we are still searching. Why?

We have been searching for happiness, desperately, like running in a race for a finish line that we’re yet to find, with steps increasing and anxiety creeping in, fearing that time may run out on us, and going on for years, from day to night, and perhaps in the course of our whole lives, as we venture toward the wrong places. We search everywhere; from country to country, from one career to another, even within various persons that we deem important, and upon arriving at every destination, upon sitting in a new position, or upon settling in with a favorite person, we are tempted to inquire, in our minds, “Are you my happiness?”. The process becomes a never-ending spiral if we don’t stop, with us getting weaker as we go down from step to step, which comes from the disappointment of not finding true happiness yet.

Perhaps, we’ve been incorrect about this universal feeling we have for happiness all along?

Have we ever paused for a bit, breathed deeply, with shoulders relaxed and teeth unclenched, and observed what was going on in our lives and the lives surrounding us? What if we learned to look at the right places? Similar to our eyes that are automatically drawn to light, we are drawn to yearn for happiness. And like how we are aware that light in our world is abundant requiring our eyes only to be open to see light as it need not to search, we should be made aware that happiness can be found everywhere, even right in front of us. Our universal feeling was right; it is our notion that a perfect kind of happiness exists that is untrue, which is a manifestation of our deep-seated insecurity that we are not enough.

We have known happiness for a long time but rarely do we learn to recognize and acknowledge it. It is imperative that we identify it for what it’s worth. We have always been experiencing the extraordinary but we have not put a name to it. We seek it, but when happiness presents itself to us, we distract ourselves into doing something else - something ordinary instead. Some even think it is too big and overwhelming to be dealt with. Thus, it is not wrong to say that for most parts of our lives, we’ve chosen to be blind, not to light as per our ability to see, but to happiness. And also some are genuinely incapable of recognizing it - these kinds of people have not chosen to be blind and should be helped too.

We need not be gifted to see and recognize happiness, we just need to breathe, be humble, kind, and empathetic. If we have tried to listen to our hearts during our search for happiness, then we must learn to listen deeper and more sincerely. Who or what makes our heart beat? 

Recognizing true happiness is not abandoning new experiences nor persons nor places, but it is appreciating what we currently have, before expanding our experiences to express and outrightly share this feeling, as if paying homage to those who generously watered us when we were seeds. All for love and not borne out of inadequacy.

To recognize the feeling of true happiness with all its glory and derision is not to worship it as if it were a god; it is to meet it in the eye with fondness, familiarity, and honesty as it has been a good old friend who’s been beside you from the beginning. Whether this happiness resides in someone’s snorty laugh, in the smell of early morning dew, in the touch of upturned bristled brushes and messy paint drops, or in random phone calls with someone close, it is true no matter how small you think these moments may be.

We are drawn to yearn for happiness because we want to define our lives by it; but most often we never notice that our lives have been long defined by our happiest moments. 

[schwagglebury]

Anxiety

Sharp sunlight hits your face. You open your eyes with complete, detailed plans for the day.

You’ve just began to splash water to your face but something inside of you pleads it to be over.

Distorted sense of past, present, and future. Like a stream of opposing currents. Actions that felt done when I was just doing. Words that felt spoken when I was still speaking. Tiny bits of lights become huge suns. I gasp while I drink. To drink from a glass of water was to swim  and avoid drowning.

Riding on a vehicle towards work is a mind adventure - at every stop and turn, plays along episodes of me and me and me and me playing the roles of my boss, coworker, friend, mother.

I arrive from work, fall into my bed back, close my eyes, wishing that tomorrow, tiny lights don’t become huge suns anymore.

[schwagglebury]

No one was out on the water but me. It was a moonless night, and quiet. The only sound I could hear was the soft churning of the engine of my boat. Far from the distracting lights of the mainland, the sky vibrated with stars. Taking a chance, I turned off my running lights, and it got even darker. Then I turned off my engine. I lay down in the boat and looked up. A very dark night sky seen from the ocean is a mystical experience. After a few minutes, my world had dissolved into that star-littered sky. The boat disappeared. My body disappeared. And I found myself falling into infinity. A feeling came over me I’d not experienced before… I felt an overwhelming connection to the stars, as if I were part of them. And the vast expanse of time — extending from the far distant past long before I was born and then into the far distant future long after I will die — seemed compressed to a dot. I felt connected not only to the stars but to all of nature, and to the entire cosmos. I felt a merging with something far larger than myself, a grand and eternal unity, a hint of something absolute. After a time, I sat up and started the engine again. I had no idea how long I’d been lying there looking up.

Alan Lightman (Searching for Stars on an Island in Maine)

[schwagglebury]

Changing Times

by Florence Marie  11/14/17

To remember your smile is a blessing and a curse, like a hidden treasure, an unsent love letter.

The image is strong, stuck within my mind's walls - of your brown eyes always tucked in silly sunglasses. But more than image is the lingering smell of you in your plain white shirt, the uncanny spell as you stare into my eyes, and ultimately, the myth we created, the myth we believed, of times never changing.

How we defended this notion, witnessing the subject of our myth, the changing times firsthand - spending nights at nearby beaches to see rising suns, and spending dates at country plains to see vanishing ones.

And when we had gone after witnessing changing times, the myth we once believed was proven to be a folly.

Taken away was not the moon nor the stars nor the sun nor the blue skies. Taken away was ours - our myth of unchanging times, the myth of our future picnics, with whole-heartedly made sandwiches, the myth of staying up all night, for the rest of our days, with the warmth of pillows and whispers and hugs.

To remember your smile, To remember your face, To remember our times, was to remember the reality of our myth - that times change and so do ours.

[schwagglebury]

Nothing Else

By Florence Marie 4/24/17

I have lost The walls have gave in Collapsing upon my command And beyond the debris There was nothing else

I was alone And have always been I’d hear long-winded echoes from The musings in my mind Upright still, were the walls that time

Now I am gone The once thought infinite echoes have ended The voices have vanished in my head As the walls finally fell apart I became nothing else

[schwagglebury]

This generation

By Florence Marie

We would have been great If our anthems cried of the soul’s roots, If the free voice was listened And pondered upon by most, If the golden pages weren’t swept away.

Too much light killed our eyes And we are left to just squinting a bit. In the dawn of becoming, There is a constellation of circumstances.

We bathe in a welcome refuge That is a distraction. We seldom lose our hands in the deep water and instead we let our fingertips tiptoe against the water’s edge.

A faith in meaning, A utilized concept of time, Never did we lose What we never had, And we aren’t victims nor terrorizers, But a piece of word At a page of an unending book. We are part of history.

[schwagglebury]

The First Rose

By Florence Marie

The taste of mediocre My tongue had never dwelt A hint of sweet nectar Spoils by triumphed bets

You gave us silver When you could only earn rocks Tried to find your own shadows Even when the light was fading out

Defying cloudy weather forecasts You are destined to shine And I, a witness of the sky Had knew it all along

This day and time of the year I stand and look back At where you once were To where you are right now

This day and time of the year I stand and look back To the ripple you had created That influenced each drop it passed through

To the first rose Of now my vast flower garden May you sway happily today To the tune of the Christmas breeze

Never would I pick you out As your blossom is my favorite And I love you So for the rest of time Grow along and keep blooming (A poem that I wrote for my mom on Christmas 2015)