Tag Archives: space

Comprise

Comprise: (v) to consist of; be made up of

Dear me,

I have wanted to contact “me” for some time to discuss us.

Sometimes I’m embarrassed to put too much focus on our struggles or our goals, but it has come to my attention that both me and I need to sit down (or stand up, for that matter) and decide what the hell we’re doing.

I like our conversations, because I don’t have to be too gentle with me. After all, we share a space. I am the thinker and me is more or less the doer.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

I just feel it’s time to stop doing so much and pause for a thought. For I will tell me this–life is racing quickly by, and soon, or definitely later, it will be over. At that point, all that I have thought and all that me has done will come to a completion, and will be up for review.

What do we want this journey to be comprised of, and determine who we are?

I had some thoughts. I think the good news is that these are ideas that I really believe me can implement with ease.

I do not feel we are going to be able to represent ourselves well unless we show up every day with good cheer. It just seems to I that any other profile is too negative or too suspicious.

I think it’s a good idea for us to be a little vulnerable, making it clear to the world around us that we don’t have all the answers, but find ourselves in a “willing to learn” position.

May I also suggest, as we comprise our future, that we show up with talent instead of excuses, and a work ethic rather than procrastination?

And we should have just enough optimism to prevent us from being the classic naysayer.

And finally, I suggest that we question everything we learned as children, and be very prepared to put away childish things.

I would like to thank me for listening. I know me is always very busy and sometimes forget that I is here.

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Claustrophobia

Claustrophobia: (n) irrational fear of confined places

Who says it’s irrational??

Obviously, the definition was put together by people who pride themselves on the fact that they can tolerate small spaces.

I’ve always been claustrophobic. It was particularly embarrassing when I was a young man, playing junior high football, and at the end of
the game–a victory–everyone would jump on top of each other, creating a huge pile of sweaty, stinky, adolescents. I occasionally found myself at the bottom of that mountain.

It was embarrassing because even though I was a large fellow, when I looked up into the surroundings, it seemed like I was seventy-five feet deep, stuck in a hole–and couldn’t breathe.

I slashed out with my hands, throwing kids hither, thither and yon. My coach yelled at me for going into a violent fit. I took him to the side and tried to explain that I had a terror of small spaces, making me feel as if I was suffocating.

He looked at me and said, “Get over it. Life is in your face.”

As he walked away, I immediately began to plot how to keep life out of my face. After all, if you’re claustrophobic you need some room to inhale.

And in my opinion, having that room is not a bad idea anyway.

 

 

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Chest of Drawers

Chest of drawers: (n) a piece of furniture with drawers set into a frame

The reason that ignorance is often bliss is that information does not always enlighten–sometimes it just frightens.

I was twenty years old before I had my own chest of drawers–this being defined as a wooden structure that was all mine and only contained
my clothing.

When I finally had such a gift, while realizing how special it was, I was still not particularly overwhelmed with enthusiasm.

I was raised in a 900-square-foot home with two bedrooms, two parents and four brothers. I did not know we were cramped. I occasionally would nearly pee my pants waiting for the single bathroom, but I assumed that was just part of the game we call life.

There was not enough space in the tiny bungalow to have multiple chests of drawers. So we shared.

It was up to my mother, who did the laundry, to remember which drawer belonged to which kid, and to place the clothes carefully. Some drawers were even divided in half. That meant my underwear often sat side-by-side with Bill’s and Danny’s.

I didn’t give this much thought. It was the advantage I had by being plump–no one was going to accidentally grab a pair of my drawers from my drawer.

Actually, everybody seemed completely satisfied that since the system worked, it was no social catastrophe that we did not possess our own unique chest of drawers.

Matter of fact, to this day, when I’m traveling on the road and find my motel room to have limited storage, I don’t give it much of a thought. For after all, it’s just clothes.

And I never met a pair of shorts that got fussy with my pants.

 

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