Thursday, December 30, 2010

Osho #20: Holding Back

Holding Back.

Apart from the obvious, holding back oneself, what seems more important is the idea of holding back another. To tie into a dressage experience, I think of having learned a valuable lesson on not holding back from Mimo. He comes with the pretty typical Thoroughbred energy. We often needed stronger brakes vs. more gas pedal. Oh the horrible rides we'd have where he'd have way too much energy and my response would be to try to hold it back. The energy would escalate, then add in a healthy dose of tension once he felt constricted and suddenly it felt like sitting on a tightly wound spring that was waiting for the opportune moment to burst. All hell would break loose & the meltdown was inevitable. A better tactic was to work with him. So he's jazzed up. Be calm & move with him instead, challenging him to channel it a bit by doing lateral work. Move the body in every which direction and suddenly his brain kicked back into gear and he paid attention to what was next. I knew this, yet it was a constant struggle to not immediately react by taking hold.

This lesson of not holding back Mimo has hit home with me from the relationship perspective as well. It feels the same: there's no longer a sense of space and somewhere to go. The relationship becomes stifled, tightly drawn inward, like it's being squeezed by a constricting snake. Most of us will respond, at least in the beginning, by fighting against this as it's in no way comfortable, soothing, or supportive. So many people I know are drawn to their partners for various qualities, traits, and dreams. Somehow along the way these same things become problematic. Why do we do this to each other? Why do we turn on each other and begin to resent what we originally found intriguing, unique, and valuable? There can be many answers to this, but I think often the we only pick out the pieces that tie into what *we* deem to be the good parts & don't accept the whole package until the honeymoon phase is over. A surgeon looks good on paper: smart person, respected career, well-paid, etc... but with that can come a huge tie to the job, often being on call, stress, and long hours. Or the artist who is so creative and sees the world in such an interesting way, but is this going to work for someone who ultimately wants a very structured life? Regardless.... if we love someone, isn't it best to encourage them? Whether it's trying a new sport, hobby, profession, or skill, the beauty is in the process and if he fails, so what? Obviously there can be financial implications, so in this case it needs to be a discussion. And an understanding that some things just aren't in the cards. But with that said, often times there's an alternative to be found. Something that's tied to the original idea and is different, but that still results in similar goodness. Keeping someone from pursuing their desires is going to lead to trouble if that person has a sense of self. To be in a relationship with someone who doesn't support my fantasies by at least dreaming with me will stunt who I am. For this same reason I won't do this to another. I want to be someone's cheerleader, helping to push him onward and upward, not holding the key to a cage I've shoved him into.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Osho #16 Title: The Divided Body

The body exists as both an external and internal united entity, yet at a given time these two entities can be completely divided, or very tightly bound.

The external realm of the body is concerned with appearances. Not from a superficial standpoint, but it is simply what is on the outside and available for others to view. The internal bodily aspect is often much more subtly displayed, though not always.

A division of external and internal bodies can often be used to one's advantage. When nervous about presenting to a large audience, the external body can appear poised and confident, while the internal body is sucking its thumb under a blanket of nerves, insecurities, and fears. Sometimes the external body is covered with scars, battered and bruised, but the internal body remains intact, beautiful and full of strength.

There are times, however, when the body cannot stay divided. When a loved one dies, the physical body can easily be seen as anguished, distraught, saddened and the internal body is equally, typically moreso, experiencing these same things. A woman on her wedding day looks lovely to her new husband, and she typically feels the same way inside.

This division and unification of the external and internal bodies is most fascinating when the inside takes over positively for the outside. There are people who may not strike us as necessarily attractive nor unattractive on the outside, it's insignificant. But their presence draws us in and even without knowing them, we feel their kindness, warmth, and inner glow. The internal body can transcend what the external cannot display. The internal body can make them walk like giants among others.

The external and internal bodies can sometimes argue with each other, but these arguments are generally nowhere near as severe as those between the head and the heart...a topic for another day.

Friday, December 17, 2010

The Special Problem

Tracy & I picked up Everyday Osho: 365 Daily Meditations for the Here and Now and have been reading a meditation a day and discussing. Now, I'm not a fan of this book. Neither is she. I get that it's translated so potentially a lot is lost there. There were meditations we flipped to in the middle of the book that seemed ok, but since we've started from the beginning, so many are just... well, crappy, disparate, and bleh. So we decided to approach this in a new way. We'd read the title and that's it. Then write our own short something, be it Osho-esque ramblings, short story, one liner, whatever fits for that title in our brains. What I like about this is 1) it's fun to share this w/Tracy and discuss it and hear our different perspectives, and 2) hopefully it gets me back to daily writing.
Below is my first, written in ~10 minutes (and it shows).

Osho meditation title: THE SPECIAL PROBLEM

There was a dog named Scooter who had a very special problem.  Christmas was approaching and Scooter wanted to show his friends how much he cared for them, but he was very poor. He had only one bone to his name, with no tool to even divide it amongst his friends. While dozing off to sleep one afternoon, he closed his eyes tightly and made a wish:

“If I could have an endless supply of bones, I could deliver them to my friends everywhere, and they’d realize how much I love them. Please grant me this wish.”

When Scooter woke, imagine his surprise when he found not one, but TWO bones resting by his side. “I wonder where this extra bone came from,” he thought. But, no matter, it was there, and he happily began to think about which friend should receive it.

After a bit, he asked to go outside. In his backyard, he found 7 more bones scattered throughout the grass! Joyously, he went from house to house, leaving a bone for each of his neighborhood dog friends. His friends, in turn, came by to thank him and express their gratitude for his kindness.

Scooter was feeling very good about himself and was overjoyed he could deliver a bone to each friend as a token of appreciation for having them in his life.

Over the next week, bones began to pile up, presenting themselves at an exponential rate. Scooter started to leave them on random street corners and behind garbage cans for the homeless dogs to find, since he had way more than he knew what to do with.

One morning, Scooter woke to find himself not resting comfortably on the floor, but atop a HUGE pile of bones! Startled, he quickly realized the entire house was filled with bones. He clawed and panted his way to the door and went outside, finding even MORE bones scattered everywhere! So many that he couldn’t even see the ground. Sitting on top of one pile were a group of his friends, looking forlorn and scared.

His friends cried out, “Scooter! Please stop bringing us all these bones! Our teeth have become worn from all the chewing. We have nowhere to run as the bones have taken up all the open space. We have nowhere to relieve ourselves as we can’t smell the grass any longer. Please make this stop!”

Scooter was a very sad dog. With his tail between his legs and head hung low, he slunk back inside and began to howl a lonely, deeply mournful wail. Instead of appreciating his love, his friends were angry with him. The stress was too much and he closed his eyes again, pleading to have his wish negated. He lay on his side, feeling unwanted, beaten down, and very upset to have caused his friends such grief.

When Scooter woke, he was back on the floor, one partially chewed bone resting by his side. “Could it be?” he wondered. “Has my wish come true?”

Scooter rose and walked outside. His friends were waiting for him with smiles on their faces. They gathered around him and howled songs of joy. “Scooter! We love YOU! We don’t want your bones, nor toys, nor any other gift from you other than your undying loyalty and friendship which we’ve had all along.”

Scooter beamed with a warmth he’d never felt before. His special problem was not about finding the means to give riches and gifts to his friends. His problem was that up until this moment, he didn’t realize he was special enough inside to give the only gift that truly matters: love.

Thursday, November 18, 2010


Relationships end and we're told to give it some time, things will get better, we'll move on and get over him. Do we always get over people? do we always need to? are there some cases where that person never fully moves out of our heart & it's actually ok to let them stay? i say yes. There are a few people I'm not sure I'll ever *get over*.

The good: Mike. We really did and do love each other. I know this even though it's completely done. Much of our relationship was tumultuous and about figuring out who we were & growing up. We went through some huge life events together. Now....I'm proud we're still friends. I can say without a doubt that I will always love him and care about him. He's a beautiful soul and in this regard, I also feel I'll never be able to say I've gotten over him. Silly, I know. I'm the one who ended the relationship. But it was a tragedy. So many positives, but it just wasn't working. And I'm thrilled he's with someone else who I can only assume is a great girl. He so deserves this. But yeah, there will always be a place in my heart for him. And I'm 100% ok with that.

But what if someone hurts us severely?  And it's over, it's done, yet he can't seem to pry himself away, so squats in my heart, refusing to leave when asked kindly, and so I throw him out & he's still there trying to do everything he can to move back in even though he'd never be more than a visitor who cannot stay. Why is there still a spot in the heart for this? Is it weakness? The connection and emotions I felt were beyond description & I want to have this again, but with someone healthy for me. I was told today to remember that it's ok to have thoughts & feelings that we don't necessarily want to have. What's important is to not act on it. She also said something i really liked: Rather than tell emotions to go away, it's like a wave. Let them go past, but not knock you off your feet.  Love doesn't and shouldn't have to be paired with pain. Breathe through it and don't flail.  Ah, you wise woman, Leslie. We'd talked a few weeks prior about a yoga experience I had where I totally flailed my arms when I hit a spot of feeling too vulnerable and exposed in a few poses. So this physical flailing has become such a metaphor for how I respond in other situations where it feels too much. Thoughts, emotions, feelings that I don't know how to manage result in me falling apart when I have the potential to just.let.go. Sit with it. See what comes up, but you don't have to act on it. Just let it happen and it too shall pass. I need to remember this: I will survive. Hell, if I've made it through the past couple years I'd say it's been more than proven. So, I'm trying to look at this in a better light. Instead of fighting myself and hating that feelings remain for someone I don't want them to, let it go. So what? I was in love & do still love him, but it really is ok. Unless I act on it, it's just feelings and I can deal with this. Take the positive memories as a goal to find in another relationship b/c it wasn't him. It was me finally cracking myself open raw and exposed and getting raked over the coals, but you know what? It took a lot of strength (and some stupidity :-) ) to do this and I'm proud for that. It's a huge thing that I never did with Mike. And I'm ready. To have this again. I know I'm slow to trust in this regard, well, and now, yeah... but I will. Without a doubt. Because I also learned that by giving myself fully to someone there can be a breadth & depth of emotions that will rock this earthly world. Truly, seriously amazing stuff I never knew was inside. And that's the point in all this babble. It's inside. ME. He was a catalyst to help me realize the potential, but it was I who provided the substance & it can happen again. Someday.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

K, lots to say, but been traveling so just making a mental note to return to this. Heading into the office shortly so, here we go.....

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

crystal method done me good

Tonight I sat with it. No, I rode with it. In need of a great booty-kicking sweat, I grabbed the rollers & my bike and hopped on. I don't love them. I like that I have to balance, 'cuz it's certainly been in need of help even moreso since the great crash of '10. But try as I might, I just don't enjoy riding rollers. It's what I had available so I somewhat begrudgingly started my session. My legs felt surprisingly fresh, so I upped the cadence and pushed it. Crystal Method blared from the stereo and created a rather pleasant feel to the whole affair. Then over 1/2 way through, nearing the end of a song, I turned off. Shortly beforehand I'd started feeling some aggression. Pissed off. I didn't want to ride anymore. I stopped pedaling and put one foot down and said, "That's good enough. At least I rode a little." Ruh roh. THAT was the wrong attitude. I stopped and asked, "are you always going to quit too early? is good enough always good enough for you? really? it's ok to push just a bit and then say to hell with it and give in?" Um, nooooo, this is NOT ok. I've half-assed through much of my life. Putting in effort when effort was due, but with rare exception, not pushing to my limit. My limits are much farther than anyone would imagine and I'm proud of that, except I don't often do much about it.

Back on the bike I went. I was floored that the next song on was Comin' Back. You keep comin' back again. You keep comin' back for more. Oh, it pissed me off terribly! One person only entered my sights and it struck me that so often we're told not to run away from things. To stand and face them. Here I was on a bike, riding rollers, going nowhere, and yet I used this anger to propel me. Faster. Away. But I wasn't running. I was taking myself out of the situation entirely, and for this I feel just fine.

I was so proud of myself for finally pushing through, even if in reality, it wasn't a huge deal. Why did I just discount that? It really WAS a big deal. I didn't give up. I didn't accept *good enough*. I actually felt a bit queasy once I stopped, but so be it. I sat outside with Scooter for a while and felt happy, proud, pleased that I showed me. That voice that's told me it's ok to just do what's expected. That what I do is often more than others, so surely it's enough. That voice needs to shut its trap.

Sunday, November 7, 2010


Do you remember that Thanksgiving you got the flu? So many years ago now, you still had another semester of college yet. We listened to calls from our parents saying we miss you both and wish you could be with everyone. How sorry they felt we would be alone.

We dined on some insignificant scraps - I'm not even sure you ate. The gas log fireplace flipped on, pretending to rage in its cheap, pathetic way that we still loved the entire winter. And I remember you resting on the sofa, congested, lethargic, placing your head on a pillow in my lap, a blanket cocooning us together. I read, the TV tirelessly flashing images with its volume off so we could listen to the stereo. We always had so many things going at once back then. And you fell asleep about the time I wanted to get up for a drink of water.

So I sat & played with your soft hair. Why was it always so soft like corn silk? Things were tumultuous in our relationship those days as we struggled to figure things out. And I remember looking at you for a long time. You seemed so peaceful and relaxed, no arguments, no discussions. And I remember letting out a big sigh, letting go, and thinking there was nowhere else I'd rather be.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

We have liftoff...

I say goodbye to you, my friend.

We made a good run of it, but I bid you adieu. 

It's time. I feel this. I believe this. You won't be missed in the sense of a normal *missing*. I don't want you back. And yet I am grateful you stuck with me for this ride. You were always there, from my earliest memories, and there's something to be said for steadfast loyalty. No matter how tough, no matter how low, you stuck by me. You held me back, you pulled me down, but you also forced me to feel things I'd have never felt otherwise. And because of that I know you have been the foundation from which such strength could rise. I've heard: "You are one of the strongest people I've ever met." Yes, I now can say yes, and feel it.

Gather your belongings. Why no Halloween this year? Why indeed. We've shared a lifetime of Halloweens. You take the masks and costumes. They are yours alone.

And through it all, the sadness, the despair, the struggle to claw through the shit, there was always the hope. Always the underlying gentle caress on the heartstrings, beautifully generating sounds that we both knew would eventually resonate over the rest. They've always been there. They've always sung to me, though sometimes I couldn't hear. But they were there.

So. So long, my friend. I hear you. I've always heard you. But it's time for you to give up center stage. It is not your place. You be the one to watch from the sidelines for a change.

Friday, November 5, 2010



combat the implosion.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Today is Yesterday :-)

Today's post is actually me modifying my post from yesterday. New thoughts about the experience. I thought of leaving it as it was b/c that's what came to mind last night when I wrote, then decided that it's ok to edit. So edit I've done.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Moving Day

It's an interesting thing when you think you've grown, worked through some old $hit, become stronger, only to find old fears, insecurities, and inadequacies linger just below the surface, waiting for a sign to creep back into your psyche.

What is it that makes some people willing to push themselves past what they feel is their breaking point, while others shy away from even trying? or flee? I have a long history of fleeing. I now know some of the reasons why, but that's another story.

I remember countless people saying the brick wall around me was much too high for anyone to get over. And that I had these little peep holes I'd open at times, but they were quickly closed if I ever saw someone looking back at me. When I was 19 a close friend told the guy I was dating, "Whatever you do, don't tell her you've fallen in love with her. She'll bolt." He did. And I did.

When things get tough, I flee the scene. *Tough* means vastly different things for all of us. My tough isn't in learning new things, in being physically challenged, nor in fear of failure. I don't shy away from hard times. I am a good rock. My fears are more around not failing and of being known.

Yoga tonight we played with going into a backbend, and with the help of a partner, rising up to our feet. I've seen this done. I enjoy backbends. They feel good. They're lovely. The curves of the human body are beautiful to me, and the strength and solidness I see in those who perform this with ease just blows me away. And I want it. And another heart opener that was closer to the floor, but same idea in a sense. And so I made a few half-assed efforts, putting on my mask and figuring at least it'd seem like I gave it a shot. I tried-ish, and then as soon as it felt uncomfortable, I flailed about and gave up. Not because I didn't think I could do it. There was, admittedly, some concern, but I know better than that. I'm ok feeling the edge of my physical limitations and pushing past a bit. was the swell combo of actually trying and therefore potentially being praised for it (gasp!), and partially because I felt that level of discomfort & instead of exploring it, I bailed. I think to have stuck with it would have been pushing through a level of intimacy I wasn't ok with. Not anything to do w/either of the two people who helped me. But within myself. What does it mean to be known? It's many things, but it's being exposed. Allowing another to see you struggle, see you try, sometimes see you succeed, and sometimes see you fail. And that they get you. I'm all for the process. But to feel someone has faith in me and to express it, that's scary stuff. And to allow someone to watch me work through what's well beyond the physical, that's even more scary. So instead I bailed. I know this feeling well. And also the tinge of disappointment. I've lived in this place for years & have been leaving it for a while now, but keep returning to pick up just one more item here, one more item there.Whether either of my partners truly did express disappointment, I'm not certain. But I felt it all the same.

I'm not accustomed to being told "you can do this. try it. even if you fail, you tried and that's how you know where you're at." I don't know how to handle that. It makes me tear up, actually. And God forbid someone see what I'm feeling from their simple words of encouragement. Hearing words of support, of encouragement, of belief in me....I'm likely to wind up a sobbing mess on the floor and who in the hell can explain that? Oh, well gee, you were telling me good job and therefore I fell apart. That's great, loopy girl.

Yoga has been amazing for me lately and I'm learning so much about who I am, where I've been, where I want to go. I've been on this path for a while, but allowed some diversions to get in the way (not all of my own accord, but some were). Yet I feel like a scared little girl. But it's time. By and large, I like where I'm at right now. I like where I feel things are headed & what I'm becoming. I don't know exactly what it's going to take for me to sit with the times I feel emotionally vulnerable. I can do it sometimes. Well, heck, I certainly offered this up not too long ago & had my heart handed back to me with shards of glass mushed into it. I survived that & actually have dealt w/the negatives and taken the positives to be used in very constructive ways. I can't quite wrap my brain around this experience yet b/c on paper it seems so ridiculous & I thought I was past this nonsense. Who the hell cares if I'm the crazy girl in yoga who had a crying meltdown and couldn't fully explain what was going on? Well, then I'd have to flee. I don't want to flee again. I've discovered my new home inside. I want to stay. What's it going to take to unpack & move in?

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

No Words

Often someone says it better than I can even begin to. Thank you, Mr. Andreas....i am in love with this quote and hope to feel this again someday.

"I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand & the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep & there are no words for that."


Monday, November 1, 2010

New Fence

I have a new fence on my back property line. At first glance, it's not much; a fence like many others.

It's not the fence I wanted. I had drawn out a neat horizontal slatted deal. I was excited about that. Then life happened and things got put on hold and while my parents were helping me recover from a little incident this summer, Dad said, "About that fence. It really needs to go." I know, Dad, but I haven't had a chance to take care of it. "I'll do it for you. We're leaving in a few days, but I think I can knock it out." Ok, well, here's what I want. "I will build you a fence, but given time and resources it'll be a standard privacy fence & will be functional." This is not what a want, Dad. "I know, Kris, but it's what you need." (side note: my father is the only person I'm aware of to ever call me Kris)

And so the fence was built. In 95+ degree heat by a 75 year old man. One of the most determined (and stubborn) men I've ever known. And I was happy to have it, but it didn't resonate with anything. It was just a fence.

But today I remembered a boy once told me: things that hurt us, relationship problems, arguments and negative happenings of all sorts...each of these puts a hole in our fence. It's up to us to patch them up. And sometimes that patch will be stronger than the original spot, but other times the patch will require constant mending. Either way, it's never the same as before.

Given my last few years, my existing fence had become full of way too many patches. Some holes remained. It was brittle. It was weak. Then one particular situation smashed it to pieces, and though I tiredly pieced it back together, it was a very sad state of affairs. It was time for it to go. What I intended to rebuild would have been pretty, interesting, a structure I'd enjoy looking at.

Instead, my father knew what I needed. While my design would have been neat to look at, the gaps between boards would allow alley-walkers to peer inside my world. No, I needed a new, solid fence that would allow me to open it to those I wanted to see in.

With this new fence my world also expanded. 15' of unused property was behind my old boards. "It's area to use for whatever you want. And now you've also brought in that tree that comes with a bird nest."

And it annoyed me that he left many remnants of the old fence in my backyard. Metal posts, concrete. Yet, Dad was on to something here. He removed the easy stuff: boards, misc. wood, some dirt. But it was up to me to clear out the remainder of the old, the big, the heavy $hit.

So this new fence. Yep, it's utilitarian. But it was built with love by my father. And with this I gained strength, solidness, extra space from which to grow, and life. Things aren't always what they seem. There can be much beauty in what many disregard as insignificant & ordinary.

Sunday, October 31, 2010


I gave you the brightest star from Orion's belted belly.
'Find me every night, softly twinkling my love to you.'

Yes, yes! He is ours, you said. Know that I always sit there beside you.

How fondly you carried on, speaking of tear-filled nights spent longingly gazing at me. Feeling my heat, my energy. Missing me.

But was it the bright, sunny days or the cloud-filled nights that slowly shifted us to you, to me?
And why are you still there, beckoning me back with your siren song?

Together we discovered a world we'd never known. Then you took it for yourself and taught me of Hades as well.

Yet, oddly, I'm a better person for having known you. The flame you sparked glows brilliantly, remaining lit by the beauty I've found within myself, without you.

I gave you a star to light the path until we'd meet again.

You gave me a star because that's all you had to give.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Harry Potter is messing with my noggin

At the recommendation of Greg, I finally decided to begin reading the Harry Potter series. A long skeptic on fantasy-type books, I've been told repeatedly I'd surely love them. I do recall adoring The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe as a kid. So 13 (!!!) years after the first one in the series was published, I started my journey. And another thing I should have remembered: my brain doesn't handle this stuff so well.

Let me start by saying, I LOVE the Harry Potter series. LOVE IT! I read for hours and hours every night, I lose track of time, I have a hard time waking for work b/c I was up too late reading. And dreaming. No, not dreaming I'm a wizard or riding a broomstick or anything cool like that. Those dreams could be fun and adventurous. Instead, it appears these books are tapping into a part of my brain that was previously dormant. And maybe was better left undisturbed, for strange things lurk there. They've been waiting to come out, and Harry Potter in print has been the long-awaited key.

There have been numerous times I've been on the verge of passing out that I put the bookmark in place shortly after finishing a scary section or narrow escape. I'm awake, yet I walk to the bathroom in an eerie sort of state, looking around to make sure nothing is lurking around the corner nor hiding under the bed. I've ALWAYS had a rule that no part of my body can be hanging off the bed. Where I got this from, i don't know, but it's a known fact that dangling appendages are fair game to be used to pull me UNDER the bed by whatever lives there when I slumber.

So the other night I fell asleep, and when I woke-ish at some odd hour, there on the pillow next to me was an 8" turquoise blue disc. Kind of like the one from the ancient game Simon, except it was all turquoise, and looked even cheaper. I really wanted to touch it, but it was semi-glowing and all. I stared at it, wondering who put it there. I then got all freaked out thinking, "OMG...WHO put it there??????????" jumped out of bed and turned on the lights. Lo and behold, the damn disc had disappeared! I whipped the covers back, looked under the bed, but it was gone. This was about the time I started to fully wake up and hmmm...perhaps it was never there. I turned off the lights, but every few minutes opened my eyes to make sure it hadn't come back. (Not) surprisingly, it never did.

Two nights ago I let the dogs sleep in my bed. I woke up midway through the night and pulled Scooter's floppy body up by me. He fell asleep against me on his back with legs in the air. I must have dozed off and had a dream of sorts that Scooter was dead. I woke and put my hand on his chest, but couldn't feel his heart beat, nor could I feel any respiration. His legs were sticking straight up in the air all stiff and I flipped out. I yelled, "Scooter!!!! Are you alive???" to which he slowly rolled over on his side and I swear I heard him say, "Would you PLEASE shut the f up? I's tryin' to sleep over here." Katja, of course, went about her business of snoozing as if nothing happened.

And there have been numerous accounts of flying shenanigans that result in me standing on my bed, flailing my arms wildly until I come back to reality. But this is better than my old response: pull the covers over my head. Either way, it always ends with me laughing, so that's good anyway. Oh what joy this brought my ex to be woken up repeatedly with this madness. This weirdness ceased a while ago, but it's back as of the start of the Harry Potter series. And these are kids' books, right? So children have no issues reading these things, but an adult can't handle them? Interesting.