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Love Isn’t Nice

By on Sep 28, 2016 in The Scrawl |

I guess I should clarify, love isn’t just nice. Nice can be a part of love, but that’s like saying flour is a part of cake. Flour, by itself, is not good eats. So what on earth do I mean and why write this post? It occurred to me the other day that much of our current world, our current western, American, culture, defines love in such a limited and fruitless way. Follow me for a moment, will you? Love, if it’s reduced to the idea of being nice, isn’t love anymore. It’s just flour without sugar, eggs, vanilla, etc. And sure, every analogy breaks down at some point, but the big deal here is that if your view of love begins and ends with people being nice to you, you will miss out on the depth and breadth and power of real love. You’ll starve to death at a buffet because all you think is there is the free water. So anyone who has ever been to a...

I Need a Montage

By on Sep 26, 2016 in The Scrawl |

Some days are harder than others and I really could use some building, punchy, eighties music wherein I tie on a bandana and like, dance my problems away. Or something. Maybe I just go off into the woods and run or something. And then, when the music fades, I have a new lease on life and my problems. Maybe that’s what I need. Just a good old fashioned montage. I have a friend asking me to go back to social media. And given how hard things have been of late, I feel its draw. I feel this urge to get on there and complain. I feel this want, stirring in my gut, to have commiseration. And I see it as coming from a deep place of loneliness, of longing for people to help hold me up. To tell me it’s okay. And because I feel that, I feel the warning in it too. I feel the sense that whatever earthly balm I would slather on these places would just cover the reality of it, and not heal...

The Problem with Being Unbelievable

By on Sep 19, 2016 in The Scrawl |

I don’t like talking about myself, generally. I hate humblebrags, I hate pridefulbrags if that’s a thing. Because I work among human beings(this sounds like I’m not one), I work with egos. Big, hairy, sweaty egos. And what I find most egos are built on is sort of like an intricate lacework of spun glass more than a rigid beam of iron. When one is referred to as having a fragile ego, there is a sense of them being unable to receive criticism and though that’s usually true, in this situation I’m referring to, it’s a little more particular than that. I have worked with a number of people who have spent their whole lives building massive careers based on success after success. Each of their successes pushed them a little further into their industry, into their niche. Inch by inch, they found themselves more where they wanted to be. So now, where they...

The Single Best Definition of Anxiety, Ever

By on Sep 12, 2016 in The Scrawl |

Sometimes I just need to remember that this kids show completely and accurately demonstrated what chronic anxiety looks like. I have to remember it, most days. Share this:ShareClick to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on Google+ (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new...

Hostage Crisis

By on Sep 12, 2016 in The Scrawl |

Something occurred to me, recently, as I was reading an article concerning why the younger crowds aren’t falling in love with social media at the rate they once were. One of the statements made, in passing, was that social media offered relationships, that at their core, were transactional. That word sort of rolled around inside my head like mercury in a hot skillet. Transactional. Transactional relationships. Give me something and I give you something. Capitalist relationships. Give me what I want, and no one gets hurt. Yes, all of these things. It made sense in a way that I have had trouble putting my finger on. And it made sense in a way that some of you might not really realize, not knowing all the details of my story. I once had a rather… lively discussion with someone because I wrote about the idea that digital community wasn’t the same as actual, living and...