Tag: frog

When the Love Spell is Broken

Love is like a drug. When you’re deep in it, especially in the early stages, it’s hard to see flaws. Red flags just look like a pretty splash of color in your world. You want to bask in the fact that you seem to have found evidence of perfection, and that perfect person, against all odds, thinks that you’re pretty darned amazing, too. Such bliss.

It’s a heady feeling, that perfect love. The problem is, it’s pure fiction. Everyone has flaws. It’s a rare person who doesn’t have the scales fall from dazzled eyes at least once in his or her romantic life. It’s profoundly discouraging to discover that the prince you’ve been kissing has been a frog all along and you’ve just refused to see it.

I think the reason we try to cling to the fantasy for as long as we can is that we’ve been raised to believe that true success means we must be part of a couple. It’s as if those of us who don’t go around two-by-two have somehow failed at life, and should be ashamed. What a steaming pile of horse manure. In modern times, one can do quite well on one’s own.

Yes, it can be lonely. We are social animals. But it’s possible to be social without being joined at the hip. I think it would be easier for many of us if we didn’t have so much societal pressure to take paths in life that we are unable or unwilling to walk down.

But if you insist, know this: True and enduring love is not ignoring someone’s flaws. Neither is it settling for the intolerable. It’s finding someone whose flaws you can see clearly and live with and still maintain a modicum of self-respect as well as respect for the other person. I understand that that picture isn’t quite as pretty, but it’s a heck of a lot more realistic.

flawed

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It’s Not Easy Being Green

The first time I heard Kermit the Frog sing that song when I was a little girl, it made me cry. And I have to admit it still chokes me up to this day. That’s because I’ve felt green my whole life.

In this case, “green” means different from everybody else, and yet somehow not particularly special. I feel green when I hear coworkers getting all enthusiastic because we’ve got a new hire and “she’s gorgeous” (as in, “what a refreshing change.”) I feel green when my intellectual friends start speaking computer-ese, and I suddenly feel as though I should be chewing bubble gum. I feel green when I share my unique perspective and am met with blank stares.

In America, we claim to prize individuality, but most people seem to want to be popular and accepted and understood. “Cool” seems to mean trendy, but it has to be trendy enough to where everyone wants to follow that trend. You’re expected to stand out in a crowd, but only as a leader of that crowd, not as someone who is on the sidelines, alone.

Boy, Kermit wasn’t kidding. It’s not easy. Not even a little bit. Sometimes it hurts like hell.

But because I’d start blubbering the minute he started to sing, I seem to have missed the point of the whole song. If you listen to it all the way through, you realize that what Kermit is trying to say is that, yes, it’s not easy. But it’s important. We all have a role to play. We all matter. We need to accept ourselves and love ourselves for who we are. Because, after all, green is a fundamental part of the color spectrum. This world would be a lot more ugly without green.

jim-henson-kermit

Thanks, Jim Henson, for being green.

Travel Sounds

Have you ever noticed that a sound or a smell can instantly transport you back to an experience in your past? A certain song always reminds you of your first kiss. The smell of baking bread takes you back to your mother’s kitchen when you were a child.

I love it when this happens.

Unfortunately, there’s really no efficient way to collect smells. But you can collect sounds. And one day it occurred to me that it would be lovely to collect sounds that I associate with my travels.

As tourists, we all seem to scurry around, desperately taking pictures because we want to remember this experience. Travel is often the high point of our lives, made even more poignant because it is so rare due to its expense. So why not collect sounds in addition to photos?

I have amassed quite a few of those sounds over my lifetime of travel.

Nothing says Puerto Rico like the sound of the Coqui frog.

And the beautiful, profound, haunting Muslim call to prayer instantly transports me back to Istanbul.

Fog horns remind me of the cold and isolated coast of Saint-Siméon, Canada, the farthest north I’ve ever been.

I had amassed quite a travel sound library, but unfortunately it went the way of my ex-boyfriend. This makes me think rather less of him, since I made it a point to make sure he got copies of all the photos.

But I have every intention of starting afresh. Along with my camera, I will always bring a recording device when I travel, and on those quiet nights at home when I feel the urge to reminisce, I will close my eyes, turn on the sounds, and travel back in time to some of the happiest moments in my life.

Saint-simeon, Canada

Saint-Siméon, Canada on a day without fog.

[Image credit: bonjourquebec.com]