Author: Daniela Ginta Page 93 of 99

New Year’s eve has something quite special to it. The thought of moving into a new year is exciting. We get a chance to try again every 365 days. Another chance to try and be more organized, a better friend, a better parent, a chance to try and be kinder, slimmer and maybe smile more. Yet most people know that resolutions don’t last. A friend who used to have a bakery said that New Year’s resolutions last precisely 17 days. That’s right. After 17 days of quietness, she said, people would start flooding the bakery again, slimming resolutions and all left at home or chucked on some frosty sidewalk like a piece of gum that lost its flavour.

I never went crazy on setting resolutions, but this year is the first when I am skinny-dipping in the ocean of what’s ahead and go without any resolutions. You see, ever since I started writing, I loved getting a new notebook and starting writing in it. That first page euphoria followed me around all these years like a faithful dog. I love my laptop but it doesn’t even come close to writing the first word on that first page of a brand new notebook. And every time I did that I was trying to promise myself to make good use of every page. Sometimes I did, sometimes I didn’t. Knowing that each page will eventually succumb to scribbling in pen or pencil made me be careful and remorseful too when things did not work as planned and I always moved on to the next page hoping I’ll make good use of it.

I woke up with a good solid thought on the first morning of this New Year: Make every day count. Just like I was trying to make every page count. Some would say it sounds like a resolution, others will argue that it’s a hazy one. Well, categorizing can easily become a waste of time. Not going there. So here’s my thought, all fresh and delicious like some of the goodies in that bakery where slimming resolutions died at the door. I’ll make every day count. Whether it is writing, running, biking, reading, helping someone, laughing and playing with my boys, listening, caring, feeling and acting grateful, making someone’s day better, I’ll do it. All of these every day or a few, or just one. Sprinkle some of first page euphoria magic dust on every morning and let it work. Come to think about it, I’ll have morning to night to make every day count. All 365 of them, not just 17. Now that’s a pretty sweet deal.
 

I went to buy Christmas gifts a few days ago. And not even one store clerk said “Merry Christmas” to me, even though they were all small stores and one had an abundance of Nativity scenes too. They all said “Happy Holidays”. I get it, they want to be politically correct. Not everyone celebrates Christmas and that’s fine, I know that not all people celebrate the same thing I do. I get that. The thing is though, it bothers me how people used to wish each other Merry Christmas and it felt good because we have the Christmas trees all around us (are we going to call them just holiday trees or holiday evergreens to be politically correct?) and we have Santa Claus coming by on Christmas Eve. Of course some people don’t celebrate Christmas, and I do have many friends who don’t and I respect that, but anything short of having a piece of paper stuck to our foreheads letting people know what we each celebrate will simply not do because guessing this kind of stuff feels like a fool’s errand.

So why not wish Happy Holidays then and make everyone happy? Because it feels impersonal. That’s what I think. Because it feels fake and it takes something out of it. One thing is that saying merry almost makes one hear some twinkling of stars up there and inside one’s heart too. Happy is a good word, it is, but it’s not the same. So when someone says Happy Holidays to me I fell like saying please if you want to wish me something wish me Merry Christmas.

Why are we afraid of acknowledging Christmas the way it is? And why would people feel that a holiday is imposed on them? People will still celebrate what they want to celebrate, whether Christmas or Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa or nothing at all if that’s the way they see fit. But our world around this time a year abounds with trees and angels and stars, and they are there because we celebrate Christmas. Christian people like me celebrate the birth of Jesus on Christmas day and I think that is a beautiful thing, but I do know that we live in a society where freedom of speech is highly valued and that’s how it should be and among other things, freedom means that no one is pushed into a church against their wish and forced to sing carols. It’s a matter of choice. But altering greetings to make them agreeable and politically correct takes the life out of them. And to all the naysayers out there, I know what I am talking about because I did grow up in a communist country and I know what it’s like to think Merry Christmas and say Happy Holidays, I do. While it made for good warm true Christmas celebrations inside people’s homes, there was also fear and resentment too, which overshadowed some of the joy. Not to say the two situations are similar, but impersonal celebrations make it rather hard for both young and old to see why kindness towards each other and also towards the least fortunate which should be a given around this time a year, and, why not, reminders to be kind the rest of the year.

Happy Holidays goes well with shopping and sparkling malls and the mad race to get everything just perfect for the occasion. Merry Christmas to me means being with people I love and feel close to, home baked goodies, a cute little Christmas tree kids hang their homemade decorations in, their hearts beating fast while waiting for Santa. Gifts, you may ask? Well, yes, gifts, they are not all bad, because gifts, if people opt for them, can be thoughtfully offered, and there should be no slavery or suffering of any kind involved in the making of Christmas gifts, ideally. ‘tis the season to be giving, indeed.

Merry Christmas to all! And if you happen to be among those who do not celebrate Christmas this time a year, please know that behind every Merry Christmas I say there are a lot of good thoughts that I hope will make their way towards you too and bring you their merry warmth with them. And you do not have to be a Christian fellow to receive them. Goodness transcends boundaries people put up. That’s why I can say Merry Christmas and know, deep down, just like you do, that I will not offend anyone.

Now that’s a heavy word. A scary one, some will say. It sure sends chills down many spines. It is scary because it has two sides to it: you give some, you get some. One is darker than the other. The “give some”. Or at least that’s what it looks like until we get close enough to see that the “get some” part has a certain undisputable brightness to it, which counterbalances the grey shadows of the first. A certain lightness, some would say. What holds the two in balance is worthiness. The certitude that both give and get are worth it.

I used to be a very unassertive person. A quiet one. Never asking for much, never willing or courageous enough to create any ripples that might upset people around me because of my asking for things. I knew about compromise and while I always looked at it as a necessary thing, I never looked closely at the two sides of it nor questioned whether they are in balance. That is until my boys were born. I stepped out of quietness to defend my boys when I needed to do so, to show them their own worth and teach them about compromises and how they are part of real life. You lose some, but you gain some as well…

Life is about compromise. Because life is real. Utopia-like scenarios are not sustainable even though they make for some sparkling short-term daydreaming. But life as we know it is real. The unmatched brightness of blue skies in the summer is fascinating as it is real, but so is the muddy froth left on the side of the road by a storm. From the simplest things we settle for in our day to day relationships with neighbours, acquaintances and friends, to the more complicated, emotionally and otherwise, matters involving our loved ones, compromise describes nothing but real life. Tempted to say that magic lies in not looking or considering the “give some” part, but only the “get some”? That magic lies in doing all we can to fulfill our personal dreams and hopes? I’d say hardly. Magic is not about perfection but about discovering that one can see perfection in imperfect things, people and situations. Perfection not as an absolute attribute of life but as in having out true needs met. That’s where perfection and compromise stumble upon each other to create the belief that is as scary as it is exhilarating and that is simply “I would not have it any other way”. Yes, you can say that perfection and compromise are in the eye of the beholder.

You might or might not agree but here’s what I’ve learned so far about compromise: Strength lies not in what we hold onto or in the stubbornness we show while doing so, but in what we are willing to give for something we believe worthy. Compromise is not a sentence but a choice. And knowing that is perhaps the one thing that can make compromise either lie heavily on resentful shoulders or create the peace of mind that opens hearts and puts the wind in one’s sails. That I might learn more along the way about compromise and real life, about beliefs and their worthiness, I do not doubt for a second. What I do know though is that while compromise is a way of showing what the “give some” part is all about, it is, at the same time, another way of remembering one’s self worth when the “get some” part is considered. You lose some yet you gain some as well… It makes for fair trades. With a side note that fairness is the eye of the beholder…
 

Can you? Can I? I don’t know about you, but I am an optimist and I say yes. And it is not just a blind belief. It is the fact that I have, in a small way, or in many small ways, changed it. How, you ask? Well, small steps. Changing some lifestyle habits, talking to people about it. Writing about it here, now.

So what and am I doing so far? I can change someone’s world by buying fair traded foods such as cocoa, sugar and coffee. Here I am raising a big question: do we have to give something up to make the world a better place for one person at least? That could be a deterrent some would say. In the age of instant gratification and gratification in general, inviting someone to do a good deed and not only not expect something in return but also give something up in the process, now that’s rather bold. Yet that’s the essence of it. That’s when it becomes real. Changing the world involves giving something up and that’s not a bad thing. It’s just as it should be. It makes us appreciate life more. It makes us become better people, it really does.

Here’s an example: Most people love chocolate or other edibles made with cocoa, and buying fair trade means that we don’t have to give up the pleasure of consuming that, but we have to pay more for that little luxury that comes guilt-free and also as green as can be, given that fair trade practices go hand in hand with the green ones. A nice combination that translates into something that we take for granted on this side of the world yet it is almost unheard of in those places where our sweet cocoa treats are hailing from: respect for human life.

When we buy something that has a trail of suffering behind, no matter how invisible the trail is, it’s still there. Nice wrappings and cute or smart advertising can make most of those annoying ethical thoughts take a back seat. Hopefully just temporarily. So change that. Change the world by not buying foods that involve child slavery. Just because we don’t see it here it doesn’t mean it’s not real. Whether you’re a parent or not, there is something so inherently wrong about child labour that cannot be ignored. Simply put, what’s pleasure to you, whether a chocolate bar, your daily coffee or that steaming cup of hot cocoa at your favourite coffee shop – unless they’re fairly traded – it’s suffering to a child.  And that’s wrong. And the same goes for all things involving child labour. It could be toys, shoes, clothes, household items. Get to know what you’re buying and change someone’s world by choosing wisely and let others know about it. Affordable sometimes comes with a price that most of us would not be willing to pay and that’s a child’s sad and hopeless cry. If it’s silent it’s because we choose to leave it silent.

It is said that people like to feel powerful. Powerful comes in many shapes and flavours. Like the power to change the world, for example. You may not be able to stop cocoa farmers in West Africa from buying and using children to grow their crops tomorrow. Yes, it is called child slavery, a more than questionable practice, which unfortunately exists and its repulsive bitterness should be felt by all of us in all those goods that come from such tainted places. But you can reduce the demand for such practices. And you can spread the word. Everything has to start somewhere. A spark is all it takes. Like a match – you can watch the flame die slowly or use it to build a fire to keep you and others warm.
To people like us who are fortunate enough to live on the side of the world where children can smile and play instead of being forced to work as slaves, go hungry and be abused physically, the power to change the world is a choice. And that’s reason enough to do it.

What are you ready to give up today to make change someone’s world into a better one?
 

It is time for a serious talk. About this blog. Since you’re reading it, and since I’m writing it, I can ask. And if you feel like answering, please feel free to do so. Following a very enlightening discussion with a fellow blogger, I am now harbouring some interesting thoughts. And questions too. What do you, the person who reads my blog, want to read about? Do you want to read about life bits or maybe ideas that will spark your own later on?

My big question would be why do you read this blog? Do my words find their ways into your brain and sprout ideas, do they challenge you to question things and change anything? Can you relate to the things you read about in my blog? There are a lot of “why” questions that I may never find answers for. About this blog and about many other things in my life. That doesn’t mean that I will stop asking them though. I read somewhere, yes, in a blog, that everything starts with a why. And that’s one great way of looking at things. As opposed to the more morbid “curiosity killed the cat”.

Now some will think that I will shape my blog posts according to the feedback. No promises either way. Not all “why” questions have to be followed by action. Sometimes they have to be asked just to get that spectacular “a-ha” moment which becomes a spark in its own special way. Since this is my thinking/writing playground I always get to play the way I feel like playing. That’s the freedom of blogging.   If you want to stop by and play too by sharing your thoughts, do so. If you just read and move one, that’s good too. Either way, just so you know, it would be nice to know what you think since you get to read some of my thoughts too. That’s the purpose of writing after all. To create sparks of one kind or another.

The way I see it is that sometimes it may look like I am spreading out a big picnic blanket and invite whoever wants to stop by to sit and chat for a while, while other times it may look like I am all wrapped up in my thoughts and chewing on them by myself. I promise you won’t startle me if you choose to leave a note as you’re passing by.
 

Are you afraid of changes? I am. And after looking around and watching people go through life I am almost certain that everybody fears change to some degree.

If the weather was nice, my parents always had their coffee or tea outside on the bench under the old grapevine. Coffee was always making its way out on a beautiful small tray. Always the same tray. If it was cold or rainy, the coffee ritual was to take place inside, with each of them sitting in their usual seat and drinking from their usual cups. The coffee pot – yes, coffee pot, always the same, my parents never switched to coffee machines of any kind – was kept in one spot only. Misplacing it was not an option. And that made things right in a way that should not have to be explained.

And then I look at children, my own and others. They love their special rituals: going to bed a certain way, reading the bedtime books while holding mom’s hand a certain way, reading just some books and no others every Saturday morning in bed. Life moves fast in all directions and we can’t prevent or change that in any way. Having little comforting things the same way we always did, whether we’re young or old, helps keeping us grounded and provides a place where we can always go should life become a wild rumpus at times. And life does that occasionally, doesn’t it?

Yet some of those comfortable and good warm feelings can take another form and flavour over time: complacency. That’s when the rituals and the things that used to be just so become too much. And change should follow to prevent bitterness and resentment from settling in. When we’re about to change something, whether big or small, we feel challenged and quite scared too. Relying on that good old gut feeling becomes important and necessary. Of course, some might say, and rightfully so, that more often than not we need something more solid and palpable than the seemingly elusive gut feeling. Sometimes you do have the solid facts. Consider yourself lucky if you do, consider yourself lucky if you don’t. How is that for a “catch 22” type of problem? Not just a play with words. Like I mentioned before, learning to rely on the internal compass affectionately called gut feeling is both treacherous and exciting. Like walking on a rope. You can do it, since others have done it, but you need to learn or relearn balance. Knowing what you have to do because you feel it inside is the first step towards making changes of any kind. Looking for more solid facts to rely on while you are implementing the change is useful.

And since nothing is foolproof in life, failure is a possible outcome. Yet idleness out of fear is not, should not, be an option. The price of not changing anything for the purpose of improving our lives because the possibility of failure is also tucked in there somewhere is simply too high. Learning happens whether the changes we make are successful or not. And learning takes us one step forward.

So let some things be, the ones that wrap your soul up like a cozy old blanket, you need them there, but have the courage to change what should be changed. For the better. This is not a dare but an invitation. No RSVP necessary.
 

Someone once said to me that it is easy to love nice and good people but not so easy to love those who challenge you, who disappoint you, who make you angry. Intentional hurting is a matter of debate, therefore subjective enough to call for individual assessment if at all possible and solvable. The only question that comes to mind is whether the people who disappoint and anger us are worthy enough to warrant acceptance? The good ones, they love you right back without shaking, or, God forbid, destroying any images of them you have build in your mind. Because come on, it must’ve happened to you too, believing someone to be of a certain texture, personality-wise, just to be confronted, later on, with the real person stipped of any appearances. Just like I am not the only one who walked straight into a way-too-perfect mirror image of myself just to shatter it to pieces and get hurt by them. And make enough shards to hurt others.

Life is never perfect and people are even further away from perfection. What then? How deep can someone’s matter-of-factly acceptance of people can run? What does it mean to see people for what they are and then accept them for all that they are and for all that they’re not? What good is in that anyway? Do we become better people because we show our Good Samaritan side every now and then while bestowing our graces onto mere mortals? We do, most likely, whether noticeable or not, but that should not be the driving force behind it. Life is not about collecting laurels, at least that’s not what I think of it. Life is about living, knowing people, finding out what they are made of and most of all, discovering that they are human. Faults and all. And when you accept people, the real, non-fabricated version, the ones that come with all that’s good, bad, stinky, questionable yet also with that grain of worthiness which might be hard to see when egos get in the way, that’s when we accept and see life for what it is: a gift, the greatest gift of all, the gift from which everything else grows.