Tuesday, October 22, 2013

It’s funny how something that begun as an escape, then a joke can eventually become such a part of you.
I first started writing because I was lonely.  I listened way more than I talked and even though I was constantly surrounded by people, somehow I couldn’t make myself heard. It didn’t bother me much, however, with time I realized I had to find a way to let the thoughts out. I was never good at talking, but I was used to play endless conversations in my mind, so I figured it shouldn’t be that hard to simply write them down… and it wasn’t!
Oddly enough, it was easier to let the confessions out in written, even if made them permanent. Beginning to write was not planned, I’m not even sure how it happened, just that one day I was sitting in my room and words started to spill out.
It was all very secretive at first, very classified, never to be shared. Partly because it was a side of me that I knew people didn’t know and mostly because I was scared about what the reactions might be.
It took time to even consider the idea of sharing some of these thoughts, it took a hell lot of growing up to allow myself to step out of my comfort zone, but years later here we are…
There are days I wish I was more productive, that I was able to keep up with regular scheduled posts, but I try to go easy on myself, as I want this to be pleasure, not an obligation.
I have so many ideas inside that it’s hard to manage at times, I have this one story in particular that has been following me for years and that I still don’t know what to do with… Part of me really wants to finish it and put it out there, but the other…

When I started updating this blog more regularly I used to enjoy checking out the stats, but then I realized that even if no-one would read it, just putting it down and out there was already quite therapeutic.  And now I may not write as often as I wish, but every once in a while inspiration strikes and I just have to let it flow. 

Friday, October 11, 2013

Twenty-Six/Vinte e Seis

Nota: Versão portuguesa mais abaixo

“I was thinking how I keep waiting for life to get easier. You know, lower stakes, less risk, more reward— easier. And I was thinking that maybe… it doesn’t. I was thinking that maybe the struggle, the climb, the one obstacle after another— Maybe… that’s just life. And you’d think that that would be a depressing thought (…) that it doesn’t get easier, that it just gets different. But it’s not. It’s the opposite of depressing. There’s a relief in it. Life is complex. There’s nothing simple or easy about it. So I can stop waiting for it to… I can stop waiting. And I can just… live.”*

We all create representations of the world when we are little, definitions and standards that we use as guidelines as we grow up. We paint pictures in our mind about what being an adult is and the things that we want to do when we finally get there. Some will be more abstract, others will define clear goals and targets to achieve at a certain age. The turning point. To me that was age 26. I can’t even remember when or why I came up with that number, who was my role model or what kind of calculations were involved, but 26 was, to me, the age I thought I would have everything figured out.
I had this whole life mapped out in my head… the family I would start at this age, the job I would be doing, the projects I would have developed, the things I had already achieved, the whole 9 yard. Yes 26 is quite young, but I’ve always been precocious. Plus, 26 seemed a lifetime a way, more than enough time for me to work on the things I needed to improve and find my way. Twenty six was the age I thought I’d be sure about myself, confident and wise, done with fear and insecurities, settled.
 … Now that I’m here, I discovered I couldn’t have been more wrong.  And you think that would be a depressing thought, that you’re not done yet, that you’re not where you thought you would be. But I found that it’s actually not. I found that even though I can see why I loved that initial plan, and while I still want most of it I now want more. I’m not the same person I was 10 or 15 years ago, and even if the core is still the same I’ve evolved. And maybe I’m not where I thought I would be, but the path I’ve taken has been by far more interesting. The steps back and the challenges I’ve faced turned me into a different person, a better version of myself. And even if it hasn’t always been perfect, all and all it has been an incredible ride.
And so when I think about it now, when I realize that I will probably never have all I want, I can relax. Now that I know the magic day when everything will make sense will never come, I can finally start to enjoy the journey.
A good friend told me once: “It’s not that you don’t have your life set… you just dream higher than most people. The rest of us settle, you don’t”. (Marisa David)

Vinte e Seis

“Estava a pensar como fico constantemente à espera que a vida se torne mais fácil. Sabes, apostas mais baixas, menos risco, mais recompensas – mais fácil. E estava a pensar que talvez… não se torne. Estava a pensar que talvez a luta, a escalada, um obstáculo a seguir ao outro – Talvez… isso seja apenas a vida. E seria de pensar que isso é um pensamento deprimente (…) que não se torna mais fácil, que apenas se torna diferente. Mas não é. É o oposto de deprimente. Há um alívio em sabê-lo. A vida é complexa. Não há nada de simples ou fácil nela. Assim posso parar de esperar. E posso simplesmente… viver”*

Todos nós criamos representações do Mundo quando somos pequenos, definições e padrões de qualidade que usamos para nos orientar enquanto crescemos. Pintamos imagens na nossa mente do que e ser adulto e das coisas que queremos fazer quando finalmente lá chegarmos. Alguns são mais abstractos, outros definem objectivos claros a atingir a determinada idade. O ponto de viragem. Para mim essa idade era aos 26. Não me recordo quando ou como cheguei a esse número, quem era o meu modelo ou que cálculos estiveram envolvidos, mas 26 era, para mim, a idade em que eu pensava que teria tudo sob controlo.
Tinha toda uma vida mapeada na minha cabeça… a família que iria começar nesta idade, o emprego que teria, os projectos que já teria desenvolvido, as coisas que já teria conquistado… Sim, 26 é uma idade bastante prematura, mas sempre fui precoce. Além do mais, os 26 anos pareciam estar a anos-luz, o que me daria mais do que tempo para trabalhar no aspectos que tinha de melhorar e encontrar o meu caminho. Vinte e seis era a idade em que eu achava que seria segura de mim mesma, confiante e sábia, que teria posto um fim aos medos e inseguranças, que estaria tranquila.
… Agora que eles chegaram descobri que não podia estar mais enganada. E seria de pensar que isso seria uma descoberta deprimente, que não atingiste a meta, que não estás onde pensaste que estarias. Mas não é. Apesar de perceber o que me fascinava nesse plano inicial, e apesar de ainda querer realizar grande parte dele, agora quero mais. Não sou a mesma pessoa que era há 10 ou 15 anos atrás, e ainda que o núcleo seja o mesmo, evoluí. E talvez não esteja onde pensei que estaria nesta altura da minha vida, mas o caminho que percorri tem sido bem mais interessante. Os percalços e desafios que enfrentei tornaram-me numa pessoa diferente, uma versão melhorada de mim mesma. E ainda que nem sempre tenha sido perfeito, de uma forma geral tem sido uma experiência incrível.
Assim, quando agora penso nisso, quando me apercebo que provavelmente nunca terei tudo o que desejo, posso relaxar. Agora que sei que esse dia mágico onde tudo fará sentido nunca vai chegar, posso finalmente começar a aproveitar viagem.
Uma boa amiga disse-me uma vez: “Não é que não tenhas a tua vida resolvida… simplesmente sonhas mais alto do que a maioria das pessoas. Nós acomodamo-nos, tu não”. (Marisa David)

*Kate Walsh as Addison Montgomery In Private Practice S05E15

Wednesday, October 02, 2013

"People change... memories don't”/“As pessoas mudam… as memórias não”*

Nota: Versão portuguesa mais abaixo. 

When people are involved, relationships rise.  The stakes are high and through the journey people are bound to get hurt. No one stays the same, we all evolve, change and grow into something we probably never imagined we would be.
Nothing goes as planned. There’s no way to predict the future, to anticipate what life will throw at you, or at the ones you once thought would always be close. Certainties vanish when you resent the ones that once were your whole world, once disappointment starts to overcome the love.
Nobody is perfect, but you know you reached a turning point when the quietness of the distance is more welcome than the will to keep on fighting. Sometimes the hardest part isn't knowing when to let go, but how to cope with not feeling guilty about giving up.
 The happy moments feel like a lifetime ago, the shared laughs a too distant past. The pictures don’t seem real, all clouded with what has become a pointless war.
It has been said that people change... memories don't. And sometimes that’s all that is left. Sometimes you just have to remind yourself that memories are worth the pain and hold on to the fact that just because the relationship didn't turned out how you expected, it didn't mean it wasn't relevant.

“As pessoas mudam… as memórias não”*

Quando há pessoas envolvidas as relações emergem. As apostas são altas e durante a jornada os danos são inevitáveis. Ninguém permanece igual, todos evoluímos, mudamos, tornando-nos em algo que talvez nunca imaginássemos que pudessemos ser.
Nada corre como planeado. É impossível prever o futuro, antecipar os desafios que a vida vai pôr no nosso caminho, ou daqueles que julgámos que sempre nos seriam próximos. As certezas desvanecem-se quando a quietude da distância é mais apreciada do que a vontade de continuar a lutar. Às vezes o mais difícil não é saber quando seguir em frente, mas como lidar com a ausência do sentimento de culpa quando se está a desistir.
Os momentos felizes parecem pertencer a outra vida, as gargalhadas partilhadas a um passado demasiado distante. As fotografias não parecem reais, tudo turvado pelo que se tornou uma guerra sem sentido.
Dizem que as pessoas mudam... as memórias não. E às vezes é só isso que resta. Às vezes tudo o que podes fazer é acreditar que a dor vale a pena pelas memórias criadas, e agarrares-te ao facto de que, apenas porque uma relação não se desenrolou da maneira que gostarias, isso não quer dizer que não foi relevante.

* Author unknown. Shared by  Ana Filipa Nunes/Autor desconhecido. Partilhado por Ana Filipa Nunes.