Superman

When I was eight, my teacher asked me to draw Superman. I sketched planet earth. I drew a man wearing a red cap with Elvis Presley hair lifting earth with one giant hand. My conceptualization of superman was a hero who could protect me from all forms of danger. Among all the people I was aware of at that time, my Superman alternated between my Dad and a younger version of Bon Jovi. Needless to say, I envisioned him to be reliable, perdurable and occasionally, very handsome.

One day, I read a short story called 'Superman and Paula Brown's new snow suit' by Sylvia Plath. If you have ever read it, you will know it is the coming of age tale about a girl who compared her Uncle to Superman but eventually came to terms with the reality that Superman didn't exist. I wondered for a long time if Plath was right. Like the narrator of the story, was I only prepping myself for a huge disappointment?

I spent a number of years sheltered in a girls school. When I skipped a year and ventured into the real world, I comprehended the confinement that was my past. At school when you didn't understand something, the teachers helped you. When something went wrong, you spoke to your parents and they fixed it for you. No mattered what happened, it seemed like someone would be there to make things right.

Learning to be my own Superhero was a difficult task to accomplish. Moving away from home and the security that I never imagined I would miss, I felt lonely. I blew my entire month's spending on unwanted furniture and lived off bread for two weeks. I finally couldn't stand it any longer. Sitting alone in my room under the 40 degree heat, I called home. My Dad's response to my woes was that he would deposit some more money so I could buy a fan and some food. In the meantime, I just had to find a way to survive. Sylvia Plath's story found a way back into my memory. My Dad was no Superhero. I was disappointed. I was also relieved. We never did find out what happened to the main character, the narrator. Plath left the ending open for the readers to decide for themselves.

I decided Superman was never going to fly through my bedroom window and offer me food. Still, I wanted to find a way to provide the narrator in Plath's story with a happy ending.

A couple of nights later, I took the wrong bus to somewhere I had never been before. My first instinct was to call someone, anyone. Call Superman perhaps? My second reaction was to close my eyes and try to fall asleep. I knew neither plan would take me home. After a frightful few hours of successfully navigating my way through the dark, I had an epiphany. Maybe Superman does exist.

When we need a hero, somehow we will find a way to pull ourselves through.








This is just a short piece of writing I came up with before I head off to Melbourne with April. After three days in Melbourne I will return home to my old bed. I know I will have plenty to update you on while I'm floundering my way through the big city. My sense of direction is atrocious. Thankfully my best friend is with me, she can be my Superman for the next three days. I am going to go and start packing for my trip.

Remember.

My love forever and always,

Krystina

Choose happiness.

Bob Dylan candidly spoke about his wife: "The one thing about her that I always loved was that she was never one of those people who thinks that someone else is the answer to their happiness. Me or anybody else. She’s always had her own built-in happiness."

I am going to explain to you a very simple concept, yet, many have failed to come to terms with its existence. It's a little something called 'Happiness.'

Everyday we are experiencing emotional turbulence, arduous tasks and people we can't stand. Petty sentiments such as jealousy, disgust and negativity dissuade us from what should be the focal point of our lives; the pure joy of being alive.

Everyone experiences some sort of turmoil in their lives. Nothing is ever made to be perfect or to last forever. That is why we need to have what Bob Dylan calls a 'built in happiness' to experience lasting contentment.

Real happiness begins from loving yourself. When you know who you are and what you stand for.  Happiness resonates a quiet and inconspicuous confidence, often the product of age, experience and achievement.

There is a really horrible scene in Jerry McGuire where the boy says to the girl; 'you complete me.' This is the part that sends shudders down my spine. A lot of young people believe they need to be in a relationship in order to be happy. This is just an example of where we are going wrong. We believe happiness takes the form of a certain special someone or something. That is not the case. You have to make peace with what you have and accept your limitations. Here is the part that applies to this paragraph; a relationship should be the cherry on top of the cake. Without it, the cake can still stand tall and mighty. You are still deliciously desirable and COMPLETE on your own.

I'm currently reflecting on what makes me happy. God, family, friends, a good book, Sex and the City, playing the piano, Spring sunshine, Summer at the beach, singing in the shower, going for a run before sunrise, yoga, writing for hours upon hours...

These are the most fulfilling yet underrated things I can think of. Note: I didn't include traveling around the world or winning the lottery. I want to prove a point, in order to cherish the big things, you need to enjoy the small things first. Sudden doses of happiness don't last very long. You need attainable and consistent pleasures that you can reach out for whenever you require a happiness reminder. I am always excited at the prospect of traveling to another city or country but this only takes place once or twice a year. If I invest my happiness solely in special occasions, I will let the beauty of simple joys slip away .

'The prettiest dresses are worn to be taken off.'-Jean Cocteau.

We cannot depend on material items to build up our happiness. Don't get me wrong, I always squeal when I see Ralph Lauren or Tommy Hilfiger on sale but I know fashion is always changing. What was yesterday's treasure can well be today's trash. The only thing consistent is what you can control. In this case it is your level of happiness.

Look around you, you have someone who cares deeply for you, a home, a future and (I'm assuming) internet access. If only you can smell the sweet spring scent, hear the birds chirp, walk three miles, hug someone you love then you should be happy. I know it's not that simple. We have bills to pay, people to please, jobs to complete and the impending fear of what the future holds. Life can never be perfect. Happiness is a conscious choice. The happiest people don't necessarily have the best of everything but they know what they have is enough to keep them happy.

That my friend is genuine happiness. It is that simple.




My love forever and always,

Krystina