Privacy

I just read a very interesting article about popularity of blogging (ekhm), and the tendency to reveal as much about oneself as possible. Looks like I'm in.

Then again;), I thought about it a little more. I do not - definitely not - share every single detail of my life with the public. I obviously make mistakes, loose temper, do things I know I would regret later on (and indeed I do). And I do not necessarily wish to have that revealed. Which proves my vanity, of course. But also touches on natural fall for creating an image of myself, ideally much better than the actual me. At least I find it natural.

I used to work closely on confidentiality, sensitivity, and privacy of data. Potentially, that makes me super-cautious when talking to strangers about my life. However, I find it totally fine to discuss the age of my children with another mum I have never seen before in my life, just met on a train station and noticed her little baby tucked in a carrier. Empathy wins with reason. But it makes me feel better. Not so alienated.

I guess there is a fine line between talking too much and being an isolated human being. And blogging, sharing most private details on Facebook, or Twitter did not create that. That fine line has always been there; only now we get instant access.

It all goes down to me - so modest, I know. But I mean my strong will, ability to judge whether it is safe and reasonable to write about something; whether it can make someone more vulnerable now, or in the future; whether it still means nothing but cuteness and fun in few years time. Finally, if I just want to get the attention. Even for the price of humiliating the closest ones.

Easy peasy

Says my SuperSpiderGirl when I explain something to her she already knows.
Yet, when I ask her to do something, the enthusiasm and the speed of reply somehow dissapear...

It's funny and lovely to see how kids develop. And only when watching some random video shot 2 years ago I fully realize how they grow, physically and emotionally. And it makes me happy and scared at the same time. As long as I am not jealous, it's all right, isn't it?...

(Who am I kidding, I am jealous, fortunately not all the time, that would be a complete nightmare. Sometimes I see how they get on with something without me, and I feel that unease, that unreasonable sensation of lost property. And sometimes it takes a while to remember what my aunt used to tell me - a truly wise woman - that you never own your children; you raise them and let them go.)

As we grow, we loose that effortless ability to judge things quickly. It is easy, or it is not. It is black, or it is white. As a 6-year old, we have no problem in making decisions (ok, that's a bit too far, at least when it comes to deciding on breakfast meal in our house:). As a 37-year old, we use 'buts' and 'laters' all the time.

It just came to me: we overthink. Kids don't do that. They go with their gut, with whatever they learnt, with their first instinct. And - in most cases - they don't look back.

Time to follow their footsteps. Find, reveal and let go of that inner child of mine. And make that little me decide from time to time. Easy peasy! :)

A cat, a swan, and a lady-to-be

Yesterday in the early afternoon I was yet again proving that my time management is just one big space for improvement. In short, I was running late (Which is what I should have said rath than elaborating semi funny description of my weakness... just like this sentence;).

I was passing the canal, and saw 2 swans fighting / planning future together / checking what impression they make on their fellow teammates.
There was little reaction, actually, apart from the little brown cat. He was sitting like a beautiful statue, looking at the birds with no interest. In fact, his regard was more in the lines of: 'Whoever of these 2 looses, I'm the winner tonight'.
(Yes, I was late. But not oblivious:)))

I wish I had half of his self-confidence. It would make planning things so much easier...

Really, there's no need to dig endlessly into hundreds of profound tips given by experienced business professionals. All you need to do is look around. Fierce competition, organised approach to planning, vision in place to take you to next level - this is all in the nature already...

Singing in the rain

I used to be a helplessly enthusiastic singer.

Not a professional, performing gigs across the universe, making crowds cheering and clapping. I was an amateur, the bathroom-mirror-is-my-audience type of performer. This goes back to my early youth, and how successfully I followed the footsteps of my parents in that zone.

For quite a while now, I seemed to stop. Obviously, I sang lullabies and kids type of songs: cheerful, opptymistic and happy, sometimes beyond my own will. And beliefs. But nothing above.

The truth is, and it is always the case, in everything you do, you have to believe in it. Otherwise, it's not worth the fuss.
Since I stopped believing in myself, I stopped singing. It only occurred to me now, when I am slowly becoming to recover, and reveal, and share what I think with all who are bored so much with everything else in the world, that they kindly share their time with me, reading these scribbles of mine;)

The result is, I sing now. Again. There is still space for improvement, as it is not from the bottom of my heart. Nor from the top of my lungs either. But I'm getting there - dear neighbors, beware!;)

The space is ours

Recently my SuperSpiderGirl became interested in the exploration of Space. Clearly, Earth is not enough for her.
Us to blame. I'm definitely not in love with changes, yet we move every few years. Looks like steadiness is not our cup. Of coffee (tea is enjoyed, coffeine is required to live;)

We went to London Planetarium 2 weeks ago, for The Dark Universe show, which my SuperSpiderGirl found fascinating at the beginning, and a bit boring towards the end. I want to think this is due to the suggested target audience, a bit older than her... The MiniMan seemed to confirm that, as he found it fascinating at the beginning ('Wow', 'Taaa', 'Yeyy'), and completely lulling towards the end. I want to think this is due to the soothing darkness during the show...

I wish I could fly

Again, nothing original here. So many people dream of flying. This is becoming quite boring, actually. But not for me. Since my no-longer significant acrophobia, I would love to experience that overwhelming and liberating act of flying.
I used to be terrified of height. Not that I couldn't use stairs. Actually, living in a house throughout my childhood and adolescence, I was more afraid to use any lifts, imagining all the possible falls and disruption of engine services. Very helpful indeed.
I was just afraid to go higher than I could safely jump back to the ground. So, I decided to overcome this by falling in love with mountaineering (and with a hiking lover, but that came later). And it helped.

Yet, I still feel tangles between my body and my inner me (not sure if it makes sense, well, it does to me...), when I see a picture of someone standing at the very edge of a high cliff, not supported, careless, and happy.
Looks like I'm jealous. And that's probably true. So, out of jealousy comes my dream of flying.

For now, this could only be fulfilled by a one-time only free falling. Since that's not something I'm interested in for the moment, I will stick to visualisation of me, non supported, careless and happy in the air. It should de-stress me, too, which is kind of like a positive side-effect to the whole story I'm trying to see in my mind's eye.

Like I said, I wish I could fly...

A mirror, a name, and a lady

It can be enchanting (Snow White could be a good example), flattering (if anyone finds one, please contact the author of this blog immediately), or ruthlessly revealing all the fine lines.

No need to say, I'm in the third row.

Fine lines - what a ridiculous term, indeed. I get the point, fine as the opposite to deep, and synonym to delicate, but - seriously - is there anything fine about them? Really?

I wonder how it all happened, the invention of this term. There might have been some lady, well-positioned in the society, who happened to look in her mirror (and I believe there were not so many of these floating around anyway), while she was preparing for some royal ceremony she was inevitably invited for. And she said something like: 'Oh, my forehead, there are these... lines...'. And then, one of her maids said something similar to: 'oh, no, milady/lady/countesse (whatever), they are fine, really'.

And, there you go. The hastily given reply became a notion. Inappropriate, frustrating, and economical with the truth.