Journal, My Past, Myself


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I talk too much. I post too much. I tend to do everything too much that pleases me, and when I do something that pleases me, I like to share it. I never thought much about how it affects other people. I just know how I feel, and when something moves me, I like to forward it to people who I think would benefit from me.  A friend of mine advised that perhaps of just blindly forwarding, I explain why I am forwarding to that particular person, because to some it may just look like over sharing.  I know I am struggling with things personally, and I have an inkling that others are too. I just read something that hit me, we are all bozos on a bus.  We all pretend that we are OK when we talk to each other, saving our real feelings only for a few or none.  I lived that life, and it got me an unhappy life.

Yet, my friend has a point. If I quietly forward an email or share on Facebook, what will that person get out of it?  I guess I am afraid of offending them. “Does he really think I need help with exercise?” or “Who does he think he is telling me about depression.”  I create their response in my head and so I forward in silence because I am too afraid to really tell the person what I feel.  It’s also because I am afraid of being rejected if I reach out to the person.  Or it could be that I have this tendency to want to tell people how to live their lives.

I don’t know when I became so afraid when before I would blurt out whatever came to my head.  That also got me in trouble because I usually ended up revealing something about someone that probably shouldn’t have been shared.  That’s been my problem my whole life. I either over share, don’t share enough, or not at all.  I am struggling with my own thoughts and feelings on a constant basis. I realize how whiny this post may seem to some, but I’d rather share than err on the side of not really being myself.  So you’re gonna have to bear with me while I share because I’d rather been seen as a oversharer” than someone who did nothing.

That does not mean I will forward blindly, but if you do happen to get a forward from me that’s not a joke, perhaps, just perhaps I am trying to say something to you politely, or just reach out to you in my way.  If its unwelcome, tell me, but no matter what, tell me something, anything rather than the deafening silence I continually face in my forwarding marathons.



Myself, Preeti


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Image by misti_kay via Flickr

Yesterday, I leaned into it.  Myself that is, the minor irritations, the anxiety about not writing, the deadline to get the assignment done even half-assed. I acknowledged I was hooked, leaned into it, took 3 deep breaths, and relaxed, actually that’s not quite accurate, I actually enjoyed and appreciated everyone, the Natural warmth came out right away!  I spend an interesting hour talking to my father in law, getting to know him, another with her best friends about the day, and what they were up to, and for a while, it almost seemed like a party in the Oncology module.  We ate with her, and laughed and although Kaiser nurses especially seemed intent on kicking us out of the treatment every 5 minutes, the time we all spent together made the 5 hours go by quickly.

I could not believe how generous everyone with their time and spirit.  From someone driving from the Valley just to drive her 5 minutes, to others coming right after work, and one even skipping work to come spend time with her.  As I relaxed, I saw the true warmth and openness of others, and I was ashamed at my earlier reactions.  I leaned into that, breathed it in, recognized it for what it was: hurt at feeling alone and just plain loneliness.  I lashed out for no other reason than because it was easy to do, and I felt better temporarily.  So now I work on pausing, leaning in, taking the breathing in and just relaxing and letting go.

Thank you, Pema Chodrom, your book Taking The Leap has touched my life.

thank you all for your texts, calls, Facebook messages and prayers for her as we go through this very difficult time.  I do apologize if I hurt any of you in any way.  I hope I can fix that, and know that you are all appreciated for all that you have done and will do.



The UCLA Store
Image by maveric2003 via Flickr

Purposely woke up later even though my body claimed it was far past 8am, yet when I opened my eyes, it was 8:06. Had a bit of rev old from body. Feeling exhausted after writing, feems passion took over the hek]lms for a few days but exhausted me from doing anything else. Not good so I listened to the voices and slept another hour, a restless 60 minutes but still longer than normal. Feeling slightly guilty and devoid of any words. Time passes. Got more sleep but have less words.

Started going through my twitter account, and saw a name from UCLA and suddenly I remembered I had a dream about this person last nigh. He was a heavier than I remembered, outlandish glasses (think from the old movie NERDS) and he was soaking to a classroom while I sat in the corner near the door facing the class. He asked a question, and I raised my hand and everything laughed while an unlit cigarette tried to cover my reddening face.

Hear a bird outsude and watch my dog perk up its ears as hearing a conversation but quiet surrounds us, and no words are formed here or in my life. Oh yea, I forgot to mention, today is my first day back at my house after staying with my parents for 2 weeks and it strikes me that I am much more comfortable there, and more like myself that is why the words come. But I am 38 years old now and really do need to grow up.

Hear an airplane and think to myself, I really do need to clean up around here, and as promised to my girlfriend I would put the hookah away (no more smoking!) and I am well aware that I am digressing, letting the problems of the world take over rather than focusing on the page ahead of me,

Finally, got up and picked up some of the trash as it was bothering me and I realized that the house needs to be in some semblance of lam before I can write. Today, unfortunately was a bust so lets see what tomorrow brings…