Being royal

©MCD

If someone gave you the chance to be a royal for a day, would you take it? Would you accept the commitments that come with the luxury? The restraints and regulations that come with everything money can buy?

We are raised to believe that we are princesses and princes. And some of us grow up to think we are, acting just as stubborn and spoiled as the description entails. But the real part of being a royal is not in the name or the title. It’s not in the things you have that reveal how much money you have or don’t.

It’s in the attitude.

The behaviour, the serenity, the calm in front of a storm, the nobility, the savoir-vivre and the etiquette. It’s knowing how to act like a decent human being.

And that is something money can not buy.

Because no matter the education you have, it you don’t adjust your mentality and cultivate your intelligence, it doesn’t really matter who you are.

Being royal is a feeling that comes from within, not a title you inherit.

 

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The mind is everything; everything is in the mind

It’s a curious thing that happens. Just when you think that things begin to fall in place and you are on the verge of finally finding some peace and much-needed tranquillity, something appears that messes with your mind. It makes you start over-thinking everything. Questioning your actions, rethinking your decisions and worrying about every single thing you do.

The mind is a terrible thing. Deeply powerful too. For the thoughts in your head affect every part of your being, from your mood to your behaviour to the things you decide (not) to do.

We are so often called to fill our heads with positive thoughts, as this is what will inspire our lives to change. The thoughts in our head aren’t always correct. But they overwhelm us to the point where we start creating problems that didn’t exist. We’re not supposed to always believe those random and miscellaneous voices that haunt our heads. Especially the negative ones. But some things are easier said than done.

“Ships don’t sink because of the water around them; ships sink because of the water that gets in them. Don’t let what’s happening around you get inside you and weigh you down”.

The things we do for others

There are things we do during each day that go beyond our own self: holding the door open for someone, explaining something unclear to a stranger, or simply saying good morning. It’s those little things that cost nothing but may lift someone up.

Yet, sometimes, despite everything we do for others, we are disappointed with life. Often because we do not receive the appreciation we believe we deserve. Or – to the very least – a reciprocation of everything we do.

Sacrifices are usually made in silence. It is the sort of things parents do for their children, abandoning their own pleasures and hobbies so that their kids can enjoy their own. It’s when you have to make choices and decide that nothing is worth your health or spending time with your loved ones. It’s putting it all aside for once for the sake of being healthy.

The greatest disappointment comes from expectation. Sometimes we expect more from others because we would be willing to do that much more for them.

“What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the word remains and is immortal” – Albert Pine

 

Those who mean no harm

They are those you know will never let you down. With whom it is enough simply to look into their eyes and feel all your troubles disappearing. They are those who, no matter how badly they treat you, will always come back with double the love than before. Because they mean no harm and they love you unconditionally.

Having a small animal around – a pet – is good for the soul. Because it relaxes you like nothing else and it calms you down. Simply by witnessing the – sometimes ridiculous – levels of happiness and excitement these creatures can show, is soothing. And it is in those things that make your mind wander that you can find calm.

Even if one of them scratches, bites, hisses, at you, it won’t last long. Because it didn’t really mean to and you know it. In fact, you might have even provoked it yourself. Your fights don’t last because they don’t matter. And you know that the love and care you both share is much stronger than any spat.

An animal is perhaps the only creature that can make you forget every torment the minute you see it wagging its tail and jumping with joy at the mere sight of you. They are the ones who teach us that as humans we worry too much, we overthink things excessively and we hurt each other more than necessary. We don’t exploit our ability to feel deeply and act with kindness. Instead, we allow our selfishness to get the worst of us and in the end we break relationships that once mattered.

Animals aren’t like that. They love unconditionally and their anger doesn’t last long. There are more important things in this world than clinging onto stubbornness. If humans too could be more like these small animals, wouldn’t life be so much easier?

All the difference

It is something we often neglect or not pay enough attention to. The very simple fact that it is those small things that make the greatest difference. From the way you dress, to the way you wear your hair, to the accessories you choose to adorn you.

It is the way someone looks at you. The gestures they make when they talk to you. The words they use to express themselves; even the spelling mistakes they write. The force they exert when they shake or hold your hand. The aura they emit when they’re around you.

It is the glow of their smile when they look at you. The way they show you they care and make you feel special. The way they make you forget everything else and everyone around you.

It sometimes makes all the difference in the world.

It is the borderline between not wanting the moment to end, and wishing something would happen so you could get up and leave.

It is those little things, which we so often take for granted, that hold in their very essence the future of entire relationships.

The Transformation Hat

The first one that ever came into his possession was a tall black suede one. It looked so elegant and it made him feel so sleek and classy, like a real gentleman. The next one, he found in a vintage store. It was a dark green beret, like the ones marines wear, and with it, he felt athletic, strong and robust. After that, it became an obsession for him. And it seemed that with every new hat he acquired, he was granted the key to emphasizing an aspect of his character, sometimes even one he was unaware of.

Jonah would wake up every day and decide on the hat that he would wear, before choosing the clothes he would match it with. It all depended on his mood that day, and mainly on what he wanted to feel. So if he wanted to feel sporty and pass by almost unnoticed, he would wear his favorite baseball cap. If on the other hand he wanted to cause gazes to turn his way, he had the brown plaited deerstalker hat á la Sherlock Holmes. On the days he wanted to seem adventurous and exotic, he had the black cowboy hat with its silver band glistening in the sunlight.

Jonah was generally a very hat person. But that was not always a good thing. Because one time he actually misplaced his hat and could not decide what type of personality he was until he eventually found it again. He relied too much on some material good to dictate who he was to the extent that he forgot what type of person he truly strived to be. It was wonderful that he could be all those different persons with a simply change of a hat, but what about when he was without one? He no longer new who he was, and that was a quest he was reluctant to take on. That is the danger of getting too used to something – you fear too much of letting it go.

Ten chairs of same size but of different quirks

There were ten chairs arranged in a perfect circle right in the middle of the room, exactly twenty metres from the door and with a diameter of precisely four metres. Abigail herself measured it all every Tuesday ten minutes before the clock on the wall struck 4pm. The other seven members of the group usually began entering at five minutes to four, with only Kaitlin coming in at 4:02pm every time.

Living with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) was a drag. But going to a support group meeting in the hope of being able to alleviate the symptoms was something close to unimaginable. How could you accommodate the Obsessiveness of eight different people, especially when some of their OCDs actually conflicted?

For example, Arnold had to sit exactly in the centre of the group, something that had to change each time a group member was absent; but it would also have to accommodate Justin’s need for him to have an almost equal distribution of male and female “colleagues” on either side. And then, Mika always had to be the one to speak last, while Isaac wanted to have the word seventh in line. It was chaos for their coordinator Patrick. But what was worse was the fact that the OCD support group was not really helping anyone improve. If anything, it seemed to make things worse.

Abigail now began going in fifteen minutes earlier to measure the distances of the chairs and doors, irritated that Samuel came in a few minutes later and moved his chair ever so slightly, but enough for her to be compelled to take out her measuring tape and begin all over again.

Caleb had to tap his hand on the back of his chair three times before doing anything – literally, anything – before sitting down, before speaking, before getting up. Ray had to wait for absolute silence before he began to talk and even the slightest sneeze could get him off-course, so that he would have to restart his speech.

Patrick himself didn’t really have any obsessive traits. Well, at least not before he started the group sessions.

Now, three months later, he started noticing things he didn’t use to – the distance between chairs, the whiteness of paper, silence and noise, the order of lists, promptness of time, colours, decorations, the organization of a room; those little things that to any regular person might not seem important.

He feared that soon he too would need counselling. So he decided to follow a new method.

He took the OCD group on a field trip to the park. He laid down a brown plaid blanket and called them all to sit. There was no measuring, no time delays, no tapping, no counting whose turn it was, no total silence. It was just a group of people during a weekly gathering in the park.

Surprisingly it worked. For that one hour, everyone forgot about their OCDs and were just friends having fun in the park.

Until they left. And it all started again. The insomnia from not counting enough sheep, the measuring of the furniture, the tapping, the order of the lists.

Patrick decided to change the location of the meeting every now and again and hope something would work.

By now, he too had began looking at his phone screen more often than usual, swiping all screens back and forth twice before he would put the phone away. He used to think OCD meant something else, like Overtly Characteristic Denial or Other Central Differences or even Ominous Covert Detective. Now, he had learned exactly what it meant and what it felt like. If only he could now shake it off. Maybe even twice.

Superpowers aren’t just for heroes

When doing all these online quizzes (with which it’s so easy to procrastinate doing anything else), there is almost always one question that asks what superpower you would like to have – usual replies are: the ability to fly, to read other people’s thoughts or to be invisible. Between flying and invisible (because do you really want to read other people’s thoughts?) I would often choose invisibility. But unless it’s Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak, what I would much rather would be to disappear.

There are some days more than others that you really do wish the earth would just open up and swallow you down. Well, maybe not while you’re in bed wearing your pyjamas, because if there is anything down there worth exploring, you would at least like to be decently dressed for it.

But the urge to disappear comes mainly due to all the things that are happening during that period. The constant running around, nothing going right, the countless responsibilities you have, the fact that there is not enough time in a day or even in a week to do them all, the lack of sleep, the insufficient food, and above all the immense tiredness that strikes your emotional chords leaving you close to a nervous wreck. And worse of it all, the fact that no-one understands this, or even cares about it all.

I admit there are days that I actually have to drag myself out of bed, after hitting the snooze button on my alarm clock – actually my phone – so many times that it automatically stops yelling at me. And then after I get up, I spend five minutes looking for my phone, only to find it hidden under the pillow.

It’s a problem being good and diligent at what you do. Because it doesn’t allow you any time to rest. You know, as well as all those who depend on you, that almost no-one can do it as well or as attentively as you. Without meaning to sound boastful, that is the perks of being a perfectionist. But it is also the curse of it. And although I actually like all the things I do, sometimes all I want is to simply disappear. Even if it is only for a while. I would like to see how all these things I do, and which to some may simply seem as though they magically appear to be done out of nowhere, how all of them would be done if I were gone.

Haven’t you ever wanted to disappear, even for just a little bit? For starters, you would be able to encompass the flying power with the ability to hear what other people were thinking / saying about you – well, at least in my head you would!

But it would also allow you to see the world without you, how your loved ones and the people you deal with every day would actually be affected by your disappearance. It might bring you further down, but if you really are the struggler you believe to be, what you would see would really bring you back up. Maybe in your absence they would actually express all the things they don’t in your presence. Maybe that would even get them to understand that some things should be said to others while they are still there – like how much they are appreciated and loved, and how much all that they do is recognized and acknowledged.

Disappearing is not just a magic act. It’s a wakeup call to everyone. Including yourself.

“Sometimes you think you want to disappear, but all you really want is to be found.”

Surviving without the Net

There is a child in a pram holding a tablet. It can barely say two words but it knows how to swerve its fingers in order to play a virtual game. There is another one which needs a screen in front of it depicting moving images, so it can eat a spoonful of food. Then there are the older ones that have a smartphone stuck to their hands as if their life depends on it. There is a man who enters the swimming pool with a digital gadget in a waterproof case. And these are not unique cases.

We spend our days fixed onto a screen; a digital depiction of reality, while real life passes us by. We are so deeply addicted to this new-age “disease” that we cannot even imagine life without it. Without a smartphone, a tablet, a computer, or simply put, the Internet.

So much, that when you are found in a location with no Internet access, you immediately classify it as an uncivilized place – because, really, who in this day and age does not offer free Wi-Fi!? – and then you struggle to survive a few days without the one thing that has become an intrinsic part of your day. You can feel the withdrawal symptoms already kicking in in less than 24 hours. You desperately try to find a Wi-Fi network anywhere. Simply to log-on and surf the web. Just open a browser onto any page. To view anything. Simply to feel ‘safe’ that you are online, even for 5 minutes. To sense that you are in familiar space, no matter if that is virtual.

By the end of day one, your hands are already itchy. You are even considering knitting. Simply to keep yourself busy.

We have become so addicted to the Internet – that place where you can find literally anything – that surviving without it seems like balancing without a net. And as we become all the more connected and digitally forward, we become socially awkward network junkies. All the while, reality continues to pass us by, without us even noticing.