Communication

Is there always a silver lining?

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Does everything have a silver lining? If you are a glass half full kind of person you might think that there is a silver lining in everything. Maybe it is all in how you approach a situation. You could have a frustrating experience with a friend or family member and choose to look at it for all the things that might be negative or wrong, or you can choose to look at it as an opportunity.

While we cannot change another person, and often we cannot change a situation, we can change how we look at the situation. Is it a moment to stand up for what you believe in? Is it now the time to say what you are really thinking? Or is it a time to stay quiet and let the other individual(s) work it out on their own? Maybe you are the type of person to always fix things for others, and maybe you have to take a break from that and let someone learn in their own way.

I think we can be in strange situations many times in our lives. Maybe we are stuck in a job we hate, or have struggled to tell a friend that we no longer want them in our life. Whatever the situation, the silver lining is often what we learn, and what we do not know. For example, you could hate your job, and struggle to understand why you keep interviewing but continue to not get the job. If that is your situation and you are reading this right now, you might say, “Tami you are crazy, there is no silver lining.” The silver lining is what you learn: more patience, persistence, perseverance, and maybe even the people skills to put yourself out there, to dig deep and fight for where you want to be. Not everything we do in life is easy.

Is it time to find the silver lining?

“What My Mother Gave Me”

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I wonder what my mom would think of me today. If we could have a conversation, what would she tell me? Would she say she was grateful that I have been given many opportunities, maybe many more than she ever had? I just finished reading “What My Mother Gave Me: Thirty-one Women on the Gifts That Mattered Most” Edited by Elizabeth Benedict. It has many short vignettes from different women who are authors and journalists, who share the gift their mother gave them. Some of their mothers are still alive and others have lost their moms. I related to some, and did not have the experience of others. Ann Hood was one author that made me think and ponder about my own mom:

“A mother’s love is like that. I know this now that I’m a mother. We give our children the best of ourselves so that they can find the best of what is in them. The day I rejected the gift of the white suit, I got the best gift of all. My mother let me know that I had finally become that person I’d dreamed of becoming: a girl who spoke her mind, who was independent and opinionated. A girl who knew who she was and what she wanted. A girl who would not wear an all-white pants suit. And by recognizing that, she gave me permission to go into my own mismatched future. What a gift.” Page 59

While my mother never had the opportunity to see and spend time with me once I found my voice, I hope that when I was a kid I was as feisty as I am now. My sister I suppose could attest to that. Or maybe that came later in life. I do know that I now speak my mind, am definitely opinionated, know who I am, and usually know what I want. So after finishing “What My Mother Gave Me” I wanted to figure out what I would say about what my mother gave me.

It is a tough one for me. I really have no material possessions from my mom. The only things that allow me to remember her are what are left of our family photos. She must have been off cleaning and taking care of us, or she was the one taking the photos, because she is in very few of the photos. The gift my mom gave me was taking care of people. I watched her do it. Whether it was the children in her at-home day care, or older women at church, my grandma, us kids, her classroom at school, neighborhood children, she was always taking care of someone. Chris often reminds me that I need to take care of me first before extending myself so much. After reading this book, I realized that was the gift my mom gave me.

What about you? Do you know the gift your mother gave you?

This girl kicks ass.

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This video is making it around the Internet this week. I love it. Long live aunt flo! How easily I can remember fourth or fifth grade when we had “sex ed” and learned all about aunt flo. If only we had such a bad ass video at the time to feel empowered about the changes that were about to or were happening to us. I most vividly remember a video we watched on a film strip about finding out you had your period for the first time, and the emotional foreshadowing was of such gloom. Will anyone find out? Will the boys know? Who cares.

I only hope this video will empower girls to feel fierce, free, and normal about their period. The video below is called: “The Camp Gyno.” It is from a company called: “Hello Flo.” Such a clever idea to help girls acclimate into the world of womanhood. You will laugh, I promise you. This girl is hilarious, she takes getting your period to a whole new level. One of my favorite lines is: “It is like Santa for your vagina.” Be sure to check out the blog on their website. There are some fun and clever videos, and content that demystify “the period” for a girl.

This could mean a menstrual revolution. Bring it on!

random x 400

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400 posts. I can hardly believe it. When I started this blog back in January 2012 I had no idea I would last this long. Looking back I cannot believe that I have randomly blabbed on about 400 different topics. Okay so maybe some of them are similar. My family, childhood, money, my favorite husband, funny videos, women’s issues, the occasional political post. That is why I still love the name of this blog. My posts are random. I write about whatever inspires, infuriates, makes me laugh. The randomest of things come out of my finger tips.

I often only have a glimmer of an idea when I sit down with my laptop and let my thoughts flow. There are times when a blog idea formulates in my thought and I sit down and start typing, never knowing how it will finish, or how long it will take. Sometimes it all comes out fast and furious in a matter of minutes and other blogs never feel exactly right. Sometimes I will write a post and it remains in draft form for weeks or months and some I eventually delete because they never feel right or salvageable.

I hope that in the process of my diatribes and babbles I have inspired, made you think, and made you laugh. There are days when I wonder why I still blog, when I wonder if it matters that I write any more. It is usually on those days when I doubt myself, my writing, and my random topics that I get an email or a comment from someone who says my blog that very day touched their heart, or was just the idea they needed that day. So you, my friends, are the reason I continue to blog. I do not write for anyone specific. I write because it comes out of me so passionately. I write because I do not know how I could keep it all in. This blog is therapy for me. It is a connection to so many individuals I have corresponded with and inspiration for what other ideas will continue to pour out of my fingertips and onto this MacBook Air.

Thank you to everyone who has read and continues to read this blog. You are appreciated and are an inspiration to me. I only hope I continue to inspire through random olio.

Keeping things inside

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I was talking with a few individuals over the weekend, and the topic of keeping things inside came up. It made me think about growing up and how we are taught to communicate. Growing up my dad always said that children were to be seen and not heard. We were not given a forum or safe place to speak up and say what we felt. Often I knew that I disagreed with my dad, but if I spoke up and said what I really felt, I would hear the wrath of my father. He always felt it was disrespectful to go against his viewpoint.

Ah, the anguish I felt to have to keep my thoughts and feelings inside. My home growing up either had thoughts and feelings put under carpets, stored in the attic, or they came out with rage and anger. I never saw the balance of real communication. However, somehow I was always fascinated with how others communicated. When I saw a man gently interact with a woman, I was fixated. When I saw a couple communicate amicably even while in a heated discussion, I was intrigued.

It was not until I was in college in my early twenties that I found my voice. I can almost remember what it felt like. I was writing a paper for a Sociology class, and in the process of writing that paper, something shifted and I knew that it was a pivotal moment in my life. I had found my voice. Ironically, the paper I was writing was on the topic of “voice” and in writing that paper, my voice had surfaced.

I no longer keep my thoughts and feelings inside. My dilemma now is to continue to work through the balance between speaking up and saying what I think needs to be said, and how that voice comes out. There is a graceful way to be bold and direct, but also to do it in a way that the other person can hear what you have to say. If you are angry while being direct, you can piss someone off, offend, and turn them away. Speaking gracefully for me is a work in progress. I do not always do it right, but I am learning along the way. The important part is that I speak, use my voice, and have it out in the open.

Do you keep things inside, or is it easy breezy for you to say what you think?