On Being a Cultural Chameleon

I'm glad I'm Canadian. It's given me the chance to be open about culture and religion, and I think it's had a very profound effect on me. I truly consider myself to be a global girl, a cultural chameleon, and apparently, others have noticed this about me as well. I've had several occasions that have made me smile for precisely this reason.

The very first was a European woman who I served when I was working at the Bay. I was one of the only people on the floor who spoke French, so I was called over to another department to help her. The woman inquired about my accent (I have a peculiar accent when I speak French), asking if I was Portugese. When I said I wasn't, she remarked that I looked like I could be Portugese...Or Greek. Maybe French. Actually, she concluded, I could probably go anywhere in Europe and be able to pass for a native. I know that looks aren't everything, but I was certainly treated nicely by waiters/tresses in France, when I could actually see other tourists getting cold shoulders, ha ha ha!

Then I went to Scotland, and was told by one of my hosts that I could pick my way through bogs as if I was raised in the Highlands.

I've also been told by a few of my Caribbean students that I dance like a black woman. Apparently, white girls aren't supposed to be able to move their hips when dancing to Bob Marley, ha ha ha!

Another student told me that in my driver's license picture, I look like an Arabian princess, and would be able to pass as a very fair Middle Eastern woman if I darkened my eyebrows a bit!

But my favourite moment by far, was when I was in Korea at the temple attending a Buddhist ceremony in my traditional Korean dress. After the ceremony, I was approached by a friend of mine who was one of the temple administrators. On her arm was an little old Korean man who looked to be about 100 years old. He spoke to me and my friend translated. He said that he noticed me from where he was sitting (I kinda stuck out, ha ha ha) and that my posture and the way I made my bows were like to those of well-bred Korean aristocrat. So much so that he felt the need to tell me.

On top of all this, there's the fact that I have a knack for mimicking language sounds, so I'm often able to sound like a native speaker even if I only know a few words and sentences.

I know that this all sounds a little immodest, but that's not my intention. This is just something that's been on my mind for a few years now. I can't ever remember having any real culture shock when traveling or living abroad, and I've always wondered why. Perhaps this is why!

So, by virtue of a assembly of lucky genes and an eager and open mind, I seem to have put myself in a place that makes me well-suited for travel. Is it a sign? I sure hope so!!!

On Looking Back at Love

In a comforting sign that I'm getting back to normal, I spent the time I was in the shower this evening pondering love. Well, less pondering and more looking back at my own experience of it.

My musing began with an inner dialogue between myself and a fellow I used to have a thing for (one of many, hah!). In my mind he asked if now that I was over him (and had formulated good reasons why we'd make an awful couple after all), would I date him if the opportunity arose? And after I gave my thoughts on that, he asked "Did you love me?" And my inner answer was:

Of course not. I felt affection, yes. I was attracted, of course. But love? That's a completely different kettle of fish. But I have loved... At which point, he disappeared from my mind and I continued solo in an epic monologue. I wish I could repeat it, because it was truly Oscar-worthy, but I don't make a habit of immortalizing my inner monologues on paper. The gist of it, though, was that I've really only truly loved once in my life. I assume that I've always been open to it (except for the two years recovery period after that first love), but I refuse to use the term "love" unless I really and truly mean it.

I've had plenty of crushes, and one or two more-than-just-lovers, but I haven't really loved in, ohhh, about 5 years. Now, I'm talking here about deep, romantic, or "true" love; eros/agape, not philia/storge. Not the kind of compassionate love I would have for family and dear friends or the world at large.

And now, I've been three years single and over a year celibate. Has it been a recovery period like I had after my first love? Was I affected more than I realize by my last relationship, which ended rather badly? Have I truly been open to love? The last time I closed up, it took a dashing stranger, met by near-unbelievable chance, to open my heart up again. Am I waiting for another such windfall? Am I leaving too much of my love life up to fickle Fate?

Am I asking too many questions for one post?

Perhaps.

Either way, I've made no breakthroughs tonight. It's just something I was thinking about this evening.

On Willpower

Throughout this short, but educational jaunt through depression and recovery, one thing has been on my mind quite a lot.

Why have I been able to pull myself together when so many others need meds and therapy? I'm not saying that those are not useful medical devices(or that those who need them are somehow less for it), and I'm glad that I didn't have to go that route...but what is it that gives me that ability to empower and heal myself? Can anyone do the same? Is it simply a matter of willpower?

The way that it happened for me was that I recognized that I was more than just a little bit sad, then took steps to get over it through whole body/mind healing. It was a very logical progression. Mind hurts --> body hurts, so heal the body and the mind will follow. It never occurred to me that it may not work. I just did it.

This seems to be a trend in my life. I just assume that I can do anything until I'm proven otherwise. That goes for challenges (new job, NaNoWriMo), travel (teaching ESL in Korea, hobo-life/backpacking Scotland, etc), and healing (broken arm/loss of motor function in hand, common colds, this depression). It seems I just don't take no for an answer. Now, sometimes I find myself in over my head, this is true. But most of the time, I discover or develop some new skill or talent.

As for my current challenge, all seems to be going according to plan (as I assumed it would): I got my apartment cleaned (except for my bedroom, but wasn't so bad to begin with), I did some (though not all) my laundry, I had a visit from a friend (and a short Skype with another), got some Christmas shopping done, took a long bath, and planned an exercises for the week. I didn't have time to the week's plan meals, but the evening isn't over and there's still time. :)

And while I'm not completely back to my normal, perky self, I'm certainly far better than I've been these last few weeks.

On Making Progress

Well, Day One of my rescue mission is almost done, and I'm already feeling better. Today was mostly devoted to apartment cleaning, and I managed to get everything except my bedroom cleaned. So tomorrow, I can finish that, and make my weekly exercise/diet plans.

I'm still all tense around the neck and shoulders despite the company of a warm compress, and so, I'm still getting wicked headaches. So that's kinda crummy. It's times like this that I wish I had a man around the house (or at least one who could come visit) to rub the stress out of my neck. Or enough money to book a professional massage therapist.

I had a good sign today as well. Despite having a tree up and decorated, it hasn't been inspiring the happiness in me that it usually does. Today, after wrapping up the day's cleaning and settling on the couch, I looked over at my tree and was filled with warm fuzzy feelings. Small pleasures are the baby steps towards getting back to my old self.

I also want to thank my friends who have been taking the time out to send me kind words and encouragement. It really means a lot to me; more than you know.

So far, so good! Now, I just have to keep up the good work tomorrow. In the immortal words of Scarlett O'Hara: "After all, tomorrow is another day!"

On Saving Myself

I still feel awful.

In fact, physically, I feel even worse than I did a few days ago. I even had to leave work early. And as a result, I feel even more sad about the state of my life.

The one ray of hope is that I feel I've sunk so low that SOMETHING has to be done. I made the decision today that the first steps to dragging myself out of this horrible emotional/physical pain spiral is to start with the simplest measures.

Sure I could just take advil for my headaches and mask the sad feelings with empty pleasures. But is that really helping? Depression is a state of being like any other, with emotional and physical repercussions. As the Dalai Lama says, the way to treat negative states of being is to cultivate positive ones that will cancel the negative ones out.

So how do I treat a body that feels sick and tired? By cultivating habits that will make it feel good like healthy food and activity. Once my body feels good, I will feel like going out more. This will allow me to counteract my negative emotions by indulging in activities that bring me happiness (not merely pleasure, mind you, but happiness).

And so, this weekend I'm making my own personal well-being retreat:
Step 1: I'm going to clean my apartment.
Step 2: I'm going to do my laundry.
Step 3: I'm going to plan out a 5 days worth of healthy meals, making one of those days completely devoid of processed food (more, if I can).
Step 4: I'm going to plan out a 5 days worth of short, easy exercises I can do at home to get my blood coursing again.
Step 5: I'm going to take a long, hot bath (on both days, if I can)

And as much as it hurts my pride to say it, I could really use some encouragement to remind me that even though this is something I have to do for myself, I'm not on this journey alone. I don't have a new phone yet, but if you're reading this and over the weekend, you think of me toiling away, please send me a quick message on Facebook, or even an email.

Just to let me know that however distant I've been lately, I still have some cheerleaders out there who want to see me succeed.

Wish me luck, and thanks for caring enough to read this.

On Depression

I think I may be depressed.

Not clinincal-I-need-meds-and/or-professional-help depression, just average I-just-have-to-pull-myself-together depression.

But it still sucks.

It seems at this particular moment that the universe is conspiring against me. The winter solstice is approaching, which means the days are short and getting shorter, meaning I get to work in the grey dim of the early morning and leave work in pitch black nighttime. As a result, I don't have the energy to do anything. Not even cook a proper meal or keep my apartment tidy.

I'm tired, I've lost my appetite, my energy to participate in activities that I love, my drive, even my perkiness is suffering. At every turn I feel like I'm about to cry and have to swallow a sob. Mostly at sweet, touching moments I see around me, or on TV. Sweet, touching moments that I feel like it's been forever since I experienced and won't be experiencing again in the foreseeable future. But I also break down when I think about the state of myself.

I feel bloated and fat all the time, and I'm indulging even more in little bad habits like chewing my cuticles and scratching at the occasional zit. And the fact that I've had no real appetite, nor energy to cook has me snacking on convenience foods, which make me feel even fatter and break out even more. Even my half-hearted attempts at getting dressed up and feeling pretty have failed to have the desired results.

To make things worse, I've been getting mild tension headaches for the last three days. Possible from the fact that I haven't been drinking coffee in as many days. But I assume that being behind in my paperwork at work and my lack of Christmas gift preparation have played their parts as well.

And that's just how I've been feeling. I've been plagued with rotten luck as well, not the least of which being a smashed phone that has left me phone-less for the last two weeks.

But probably the worse part of all this is that in my sorry state (and partly due to my lack of a phone), I haven't been seeing my friends and family. I feel like I'm neglecting the people who love me best. I tell myself that I should get in touch with someone and go out, but I feel so disgusting all the time that I don't want to leave the house.

There are other troubles as well, but this is plenty and I'm almost regretting this melodramatic whinging...I feel the need to vent, though. And I'm sorry.

I know that there's light at the end of the tunnel and that the days will get longer and my bad luck will pass, but I've been feeling hopeless and impossibly lonesome for several weeks now and I just can't seem to gather the effort needed to haul my sorry carcass out of this emotional mire.