fick·le ˈfikəl/ adjective:
“changing frequently, especially as regards one’s loyalties, interests, or affection.”
No…not quite like that.
Here’s the thing…I was sitting on the porch this morning, as is usual, with my coffee and smokes, thinking…
“I love this” followed immediately by “I hate this”.
That thought alone, occupied my brain for the next 2 hours. Through my second cuppa, my third smoke, changing the sheets, checking my mail, taking my shower, love/hate, love/hate, love/hate…
Enough with the fickle pickle already!
So…to clear my head of this love/hate dialogue that was making my head spin, I thought I could put it down on paper and try to figure out if I am, in fact, ficklish. (That’s like being ticklish only not as much fun)
Or, am I just someone who can NOT make a damned decision and stick with it.
I found it was much easier said than done. Mostly because there are waaaaay too many; way, way, too many; did I say way to many?
However, not to be deterred, and despite the shear number…I’m giving it another go.
Only this time, I’m limiting myself to one fickle per letter of the alphabet. I don’t know yet if I’ll have one for every letter, just as I already know I will have to choose between more than one for some others.
But…if a letter is empty, then I’ve got nothing.
I know…it’s a bit ridickle!
And I also know, limiting some of the letters to one thing is going to be near impossibickle!
But, I shall try. Because, my hope is, by the time I’m done, I can look at the list objectively and do one of two things:
Decide which side of the coin I’m on.
Embrace the pickle and be tickled that I’m fickle.
No…seriously. I need to do this.
I need to challenge myself to be more/do more/try more/embrace more…things that I love.
To a greater degree than not doing more/trying more/being more/embracing more…of the things I can change.
Because…the ‘hate side’ is…simply put…FEAR
Here goes ~ The Fickle Pickle of Love/Hate Relationships A to Z
I love that I’ve earned my stripes.
I hate that that they are on my body, so I undress in the dark.
I love when the beach is empty and the waves are crashing.
I hate the bikini strewn, human oil slick, so I beach in winter.
I love the excitement that creates a crowd.
I hate feeling alone in one, so I avoid them.
I love hearing about dreams.
I hate having them, so I don’t (at least I don’t remember them).
I love the idea of it, in all things.
I hate that sometimes, I am part of the problem in remaining silent.
I love the journey,
I hate the hassle, so I don’t (very often).
I love that you can have an answer in a flash.
I hate that it has replaced looking things up in the encyclopedia and the dictionary, but I’m guilty too.
I love what it does for my skin.
I hate what it does to my hair, I’m a chia pet!
I love that American means Everyonecan.
I hate that it has become counting pennies vs. counting kids, but that’s the reality we live in.
I love knowing them, singing them, and recognizing the product by the tune.
I hate knowing them, singing them, and recognizing that I just might be a couch potato!
I love the idea of being ‘one with the water’, especially in the quiet, early morning mist, just as the sun rises.
I hate the spidery hidey hole where I can’t see my feet, so I don’t.
I love love, being in love, being loved, giving love.
I hate what happens to me when love doesn’t feel safe.
I hate losing a single second to that most of all.
Shying away from love for fear of pain may be a form of self defense.
But it’s the worst offense against yourself there could ever be.
I love being a mother, for there is no love like it in the world.
I hate being a mother, at times, for there is no fear like it in the world.
(Though this, I would NEVER change)
I love the rare times I’ve allowed myself the freedom, wishing it always felt that way.
I hate the majority of my adult life has been spent trying to avoid it.
I love the passion it takes to have one.
I hate the control I lose when I do, which is often.
I love being a porch dweller; morning coffee, afternoon wine, thunderstorms…
I hate being a porch dweller; going out to smoke, checking the spi-dar for spiders, being spied upon by the people driving or walking by, an oddi-tee in a nigh-tee!
I love the spontaneous way they pop up hither and thither and yon, alone or in pairs, nature at it’s best.
I hate the feeling of ‘somewhere’ I get when I see one.
I love smoking
I hate everything about it, but here I am
I love how the human mind works, developing new technology to solve the world’s problems
I hate that technology has replaced some sadly lacking human qualities…like kindness, empathy, compassion, and common sense. Definitely one of those ‘double edged swords’
I love Vermont, you know I do. I am as Green Mountain blooded as I am red blooded.
I hate Vermont, and I’ll leave it there.
I love what it does for me
I hate what it does to me.
Let’s face it, beer drinkers go deaf and shout and have their beer-bellies.
Wine drinkers go soft and fuzzy and have wine-wattles!
I love xray technology for finding broken bones and cancerous tumors.
I hate xray for finding things we cannot fix.
I do wonder if I’d rather not know if that’s the case.
I love Yoda for his wisdom, manner, sense of humor, and common sense 🙂
I hate Yoda because to look at him reminds me that Superman is mortal 😦
As are we all…but still.
I love the zoo for obvious reasons.
I hate the zoo for even more obvious reasons.
So…the challenge to me is to address the love/hates and see which are hurting me or preventing me from growing as a person. Granted, some will remain as they are…we can’t love everything, but nor can we hate everything…and we can certainly have a bit of both now and then.
As a shield…hate sucks.
As a tool…hate sucks.
As a rule…hate sucks.
As a reminder to do better…hate can work.
Challenge yourselves…and if anyone has a love/hate they’d like to share, I’d like to hear.