Sunday, October 21, 2018

The Problem With The Law Of Attraction

Before the year is over, I know what its central idea will be for me. I've had to learn many lessons but there was one that I embraced more than others: my thoughts make a difference. You won't hear me say it very much outside of this blog but it's been a tough year. It started traumatizing and I felt like my positive attitude towards life was under attack. And as soon as I thought that, more bad things happened. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? It's the basis of the saying "evil travels in twos". It's easy: if you think positively, positive things happen. When you feel the world is coming to get you, it will get you eventually. These simple truths are not new to anyone, yet I found it super, super hard to execute what people simply call the law of attraction. And outside of the reality of keeping a positive mind when things simply are not going well, I have found one thing especially wrong with it: pressure.

When you surround yourself with THIS, love comes naturally!
The law of attraction says that what you think of, you attract. I know this law isn't a lie. I got my last job this way, last week's interview and someone to text me recently. Much bigger than that, the last person who loved me only did so because he met me when my mind was pure, I was exuding love and, therefore, attracted him into my life, cheesily speaking. My best friends were the results of myself making a conscious effort to practice kindness, be good to everyone and really care, so life gave me kind, good people, one of them literally called Jesus as if his personality wasn't enough to make him feel like a blessing. I was receiving signs that things were the results of my thinking in bold letters and I continued with the response to them the law of attraction suggested: gratitude.

With other things, it wasn't that easy. I would say the beginning of the mind change that brought me 2018, all of it, was returning from my trip to New York over NYE where I had been trying to come to terms with what had happened in the summer of 2017. Some bad experiences had not yet caught up with me, but I was waiting for my mind to get the memo and not bury my feelings about these events in a pile of distractions. Because that is exactly what I did. I spent a large amount of time with someone I know now wasn't very good for me and also attracted the opposite of goodness. But of course, when you only spent time with someone because you need distraction, although subconsciously, and that person doesn't really appreciate you and makes you feel more insecure, the law of attraction is already at work; it's giving you more of what you actually didn't want: insecurity, connections completely devoid of a human or kind spirit and continuous burying of feelings.

As a result, I wanted to change the thoughts. According to all the books, it only takes a moment to change the attitude and then, there you go, all your heart's desires are there on a silver platter. With my move to London, all that seemed possible. I was positive, getting responses from jobs, hung out with the people I really love and who love me back and I stopped drinking, went running almost every day and meditated myself to bliss. It was working. It brought me joy and I knew that things would be ok, for the first time in a while. I was starting to feel better after this dreadful year because I had space from the experiences. Meditation and gratitude showed me that deep inside, I am happy although circumstances aren't golden.

Of course, positivity gets a down day. While I was trying to become a kinder person, I realized just how much I cared about some people. And I saw they were not well. My positivity couldn't shake it. It's human, you'd think, but I started to freak out. Within minutes I was anxious, felt helpless and was scared that I wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Which, of course, would only bring exactly this into my life, if the law of attraction does work. I worried and so that frequency changed again. I worried more because I felt the pressure that I, myself, was manifesting negative things into my life. The pressure made me more miserable, feeling the urge to change my thinking now and not a minute later. The very thing I believe in making my life better was making me feel bad about when I was just a tad too human to just be positive all the time. So I started to ask myself: why is positivity harder than negativity?

When something bad happens, it's easy to be sad. When good things happen, people tend to take them for granted. I suppose it's natural, having a survival instinct and responding to danger more drastically than safety. This outline for life has made bad times or just a tiny negative thought more complicated though. As soon as negativity creeps up now, I feel I need to contain my brain which I cannot, at least not yet. It seems like I force myself to be positive when I should just give some space to negativity. And then suddenly it hit me: that's exactly what I'm supposed to do. I shall not give negativity room. Yes, it's not just about me and I cannot make people better but I can try to eliminate bad feelings. For everyone. When I think positive, I choose to believe it is powerful. Not just for me. For others, too. Maybe even the world. So yes, bury the negativity. Do not give it space. It doesn't deserve it.

That, however, does take practice. I guess the law of attraction does not just work express.

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

4 Reasons Why Paddington Is The Best Movie Ever!

OMG, so adorable! 
Yesterday, my life changed. After years and years of never wanting to rewatch a movie I saw, I discovered my new favorite movie: Paddington. Or Paddington 2 - I don't even care which one, what a movie. My criteria for movies has always been the same: if it makes me feel like I am jealous of those who were involved in making it, it's really good. Beforehand, I wish I had written A Beautiful Mind, and now I also wish I wrote, directed, produced and stared in Paddington. Literally, the perfect film. It has everything. Let me break it down for you: Here are four reasons why I love Paddington.

Damn, Paddington is so cute!
Paddington is sooo cute, it makes my heart go all happy inside. He looks like a real bear, and I love bears. They even gave him that blue jacket and the hat because he is trying to fit in. What this cuteness achieves is a lot of "Aww"-moments in which I just really want to squeeze him. Loneliness has always made me so sad and I tear up when I think about people being lonely. So that cute, adorable little bear having watery eyes because he is looking for a home or because he thinks the Browns have forgotten about him is too much. It's too much!!! I'm done...

Paddington has such good manners and is always polite
"Paddington is the essence of being English", I once read. I agree: he is a polite little bear, trying his best to make everyone happy. But of course, not everyone is like that. He isn't polite because he's hiding something or because he wants anything in return, he's just a thoroughly nice bear. Other people's fortune makes him smile, not jealous. Christ, he draws happiness from Aunt Lucy getting her 500-pound pop-up book. Who's like that? He's a great example of altruism and should prompt us to actually question our own behavior. What do we do for others? We should all be more like Paddington. Funnily enough, if we were we'd all be happier.

The movie teaches acceptance - of everything
The original author of Paddington wrote the story inspired by children in the Second World War, arriving in the country with only a suitcase and no possessions, merely looking for a place to call home. Sound familiar??? Oh, how times have NOT changed. We live in a world where people use the city depicted in the movie as a haven of hope; they, too, hope that London will open its heart to them and allow them to "fit in". Of course, nobody does - and nobody else is actually a bear. But people are afraid of the unknown, we reject it and we think ill of it. Now if you think about real life examples, those the people in this country have rejected (in, let's say, some sort of referendum) could be a treasure like Paddington. At the end of the movie, nobody rejects Paddington, for good reason. Every other "anormaly" is the same; unique and worth loving. Like, you guessed it, Paddington.

London: a city, a promise
Last but not least, watching this movie right now, two weeks into my own move to London, is a huge factor why I spent all day googling "Paddington 3": it is the perfect depiction of arriving in the greatest city in the world. I have been many places and I never felt the acceptance, diversity, and willingness to be different as much as in London. It has been a dream of mine since I was Paddington's age to call this city home, and my fears about it are similar to those of his. I am promised opportunity, a colorful body of people and wonder at every corner but sometimes, it can appear that the city is too harsh and we sit in our attic rooms feeling we do not "fit". That is nonsense of course; everyone fits in here, even a fucking adorable bear. Damn, I wish he was real. At least I can walk down the road and across Portobello Road in Notting Hill where most of this movie was shot. Thankfully, that part is real, including the weird old shop that is, today, a popular #InstaAttraction. And thankfully, that is now my home.

Fuck, I love Paddington!

Friday, October 12, 2018

Happy Birthday, Papa: What My Father Taught Me About Mental Health


Today, for the 72nd time, it's my fathers birthday. 12 of them, he wasn't alive to celebrate. All the other 59, he wasn't happy enough to celebrate. My father always said he didn't want any presents, he had everything he needed; one of his biggest lies. My father did not close his eyes at 59 to die because he was fulfilled and happy with what he did in his 59 years of life. Quite the contrary: although I was only 17 when he died, I got to know my father as an adult. He was a thoroughly unhappy man, stricken by the mistakes he made early and later in life and he had absolutely no emotional capabilities to ensure these feelings were not going to kill him at a young age. I know all that could have been prevented. It is time the world acknowledges that, too.

This week it was World Mental Health Day and a lot of my friends reached out to an invisible somebody on their news feeds to express support for whatever is going on "inside of them". Companies underlined their support for employees struggling with something. While all these efforts are a great step in the right direction, making people, like my father, hear over and over again that "being strong" should not be the number one priority in life does little in practice. I am not going to talk about stigmas because we will never see anyone consciously admitting that they perceive mental health issues as a proper weakness; talking about it, therefore, does nothing. You cannot change a person's mind, thoughts or attitude on someone else's mind, thoughts and attitude without them acknowledging they have subconscious bias first.

I am not one of these people. I have, in my time on this Earth, met a lot of people struggling with depression and other issues, mostly men. At the same time, I feel that support usually comes from those who have been affected themselves. While I do not consider myself depressed, I do know depression. I watched my father, my mother, numerous friends and loved ones struggle to extents hardly imaginable; some of them lost the fight, culminating their experience in suicide. This all sounds very sad but it really is not sad; it's unnecessary, entirely pointless and unfair. It should not be an issue for someone to speak their mind, keeping up a front and pretending they do not want presents because they have everything they need. Of course, that is a trivial example. But the question remains: Why is it so hard to admit we are not feeling so great?

The answer is: Because of us. The world, all its people, everything is completely different from what a mind can see. People with a mental health issue are, like every other person, only used to their own thoughts and feelings. Their individual brains cannot differentiate between what is their personality, what is their feeling, what will change one day and what won't. If the brain was capable of regulating love, care, appreciation and gratitude, wouldn't we just all be the same, with no feelings? When you put a device in someone's head that can make people happy, that device will inevitably also enable unhappiness. And devices sometimes work in different ways. The problem arises when a specific brand of brain is labeled the Samsung brand, while its owner feels like everyone else has a new Apple-brand brain and only theirs isn't working. But everyone knows, the new Samsung phone can do exactly the same as the iPhone. People still pay double for the iPhone.

This lame analogy is truth though. There is nothing wrong with any brain, it is just a brain. I can't work an iPhone, nevermind my own brain. When my father and I were alive at the same time, I didn't know his brain was different from what he let me see. He was not well, and yet it was harder for him to show that than it was to express his love for us although both emotions have the same origin. Nothing was wrong with him, he just - had a brain. And that brain generated things he did not welcome. Why do we judge one emotion but celebrate the other? It all sounds like nature to me. Without knowing, my father taught me to accept the brain: my own, those of others, "healthy" or "nuts". Feelings are feelings, only concealing them makes them worse because you are not supposed to do that. I will forever be an advocate for people being exactly who they want to be to me, even if they think it is wrong. If my father had done that, we would maybe be celebrating today. 

Thursday, October 4, 2018

"This Is Us" or "This is Me"? We Cannot Be Sure Anymore


I've described why I love "This Is Us". In fact, I don't love it, I deeply hate it. It makes me feel like I am not doing the right thing with the pain and joy I have inside of me. It makes me want to create a show, a movie, or if all else fails, a blog post. It makes me relive parts of my past that I am clearly not revisiting often. No episode finishes without me thinking: "is this them or is it me?" Surely, writer Dan Fogelman did a good job because I know I'm not the only one thinking that. Yet, "This Is Us" hits so close to home, it's almost too close.

My dad didn't inhale smoke from a fire but just like Jack Pearson, he died completely out of the blue when I was 17, at the same age as the Pearson kids when Jack passed. My mother was not like Rebecca: she could not contain her grieve. Within weeks, she was barely there in terms of body weight. I did not leave my room for six weeks, never eating more than a dry slice of bread every day. My mother tried to make us do things we used to enjoy, like going to the beach, but it was physically impossible to feel happiness or joy. I can't be sure how much weight I lost altogether but I am assuming about 25 pounds in three months, the same amount Kate gained after her father's death. "Everyone grieves differently", they said. And I know that to be true.

At the end of the summer he died, I had plans to go back to the States and go to college. Like Randall. Instead, I went back to school in Germany to stay close to home. I had to do 12th grade over just in order to stay close. With the condition my family was in, leaving would have been a goodbye forever. And of course, I couldn't do that. I put my dreams on hold to be with those who needed me. Of course, I was 17, I didn't know what I know today: that sooner or later, everything will be alright. "This Is Us" helps to see that. Yes, it is fiction, but it is also true. Randall did go to college in the end. He got more than he probably ever imagined to have. Just like me. This person unwilling to stop crying eventually went to college, for free, traveled the world, and would have made her father, if he was alive, pretty proud.

The Pearson children struggle with the relationship with their parents. I cannot understand the desire to make a parent proud that is dead but I understand all too well what pressure comes with wanting to do the right thing. I am hard on myself because I want to be understood. Like Kevin. A person like me, bubbly and blonde, knows what it's like to be discarded. In uni, I wore fake glasses for my first month at Glasgow just so I wouldn't be "the pretty girl" again. I was one of the best in my class in my undergrad, yet, because I was also into sports, went out to party a lot and got a decent amount of male attention, my professional success was something people did not accept easily. I believe that nobody, except my mother maybe, ever truly believed in me; they certainly did not support me. And that's why getting a job at Amazon felt as good as it felt for Kevin to get a job with Ron Howard: Because it proved everyone wrong.

Somewhere out there, you will find a black blogger who wrote this same piece, describing how this show made them feel understood about the day they entered a white school or being the "first black person" to do anything. I wouldn't know anything about that. I also have no emotional connection to loving someone the way Jack and Rebecca loved each other, or how Rebecca was able to find new love. However, there are many people that do. And they feel like me when they watch this show, too. In the end, it makes me change nothing about myself, it just corroborates my desire to turn feelings into pictures and words like the makers of this show do. I want to work for this show or dedicate my free time to making something this beautiful. In this relatively short life, I have felt so much it is sometimes too much. But then I watch the show and I see that everyone has. Maybe not around me but this struggle is simply called "life". It isn't meant to be easy and we are increasingly getting better at it.