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Lady of the South

The day started beautifully. I woke up to my husband quietly navigating the house in preparation for work. So as not to wake me, he had put towels at the base of the door to keep light out. Silly him, he should know by now that his presence is what keeps me asleep and his absence it what wakes me.

I had a very well intentioned start to my plan for the day. I pampered myself with a bath and dressed up all fancy. I was going to go shopping and buy clothes for clinic, which starts in two weeks.

Although I made it to the store, I panicked on the inside and left immediately. A glance in the mirror revealed frightened eyes lacking resolution. No shopping for me today.

I sat in the car and watched the dull garage lights eerily cast shadows in the space around me. What is wrong with me and why can't I get to the place I have created for myself in my head? Why must the memories of my cells dominate the moment? And now what? Where shall I go? Where can I stand to exist when I am in this state?

Maybe music can save me, I think to myself. I put in one cd after another. Each disc taking me to one level and no further, I realize this is not the answer I am seeking.
There has to be something to ease this pain. Maybe I am just picking the wrong music, I muse. Another disc in, another one out. Come on David Gray, save my day. Please.

I finally start the engine. The car moves and I find myself driving toward Carl. Lunch with Carl, that will be what I need. And it was, until I had to leave him. Oh boy, here we go again. Now what? Where shall I go? How can I manage to feel alive, but safe? Oh, David Gray, you are getting a second chance. Take me away. Please.

I feel my heart and I can't help but wonder how long it will continue beating. Surely, this much pain will make it stop. Maybe that's just what I am hoping for.

Years and years of manipulating my past circumstances to fit a different future have left me where I am today. Better than I was, but not free. What do I need to do to be free? All I want is to be happy. I want to look at people and feel happy. I want to belong and to be free of it all. The closest I have come to this involves my stage face and it works until someone can see through it to the me that is stuck in a state of shock, trauma, and fear. How can this be? Someone looks at me and knows exactly where I am and tells me I need to look a little more to the left and keep walking south. There is a lady...

Why didn't I just die in all of that trauma? It would have been so much easier. Living is so much harder. Living amongst people who don't know the depths of it all is difficult. I'm not great at explaining it either. So alone I remain. Walking south and looking to the left for a lady... Please lady, whoever you are, find me. I want to let all of this go and be free. I have so much waiting for me. All I have to do is figure out how to open the gates to my cells and sweep out the memories that invade my well intentioned days.

Slow Death

How do you watch someone you love die a slow and painful death? Especially doing so while knowing that there is nothing you can do to stop it, or fix it, or do anything at all really.

That's my predicament right now. Not with one person I love, but with two.

One happens to be my sister. My lovely little sister who has been suffering from bulimia and alcohol addiction for over ten years. Long, arduous years in which the body breaks down to a point in which it can no longer heal itself. Years in which my heart has broken into thousands of pieces while standing at the sideline hoping and praying the day would come in which she would get help before it was too late. I'm still waiting, fingers crossed. I hope this is the month she seeks it out. The appointment has been made.

The road has been hard. I've paid for her to see therapists, doctors, and support groups... none of which she stuck with for long. I remember the first support group where as a family member, I had the opportunity to introduce myself and how my sister's illness has affected me. When asked that question, I hadn't realized the depth of the effect until I spoke. My lips parted to let out a stuttering soft voice that quickly transitioned to loud incoherent sobs. I loved my sister. I still do. I just wanted this to end and for her to be okay. But it's not. And I have a hard time pretending that I am okay with this circumstance as it unfolds. I wish I could change it. I wish I could change how it all started.

I wish, I wish, I wish.

I do not want to see my sister die a young death. I wish things were different. I wish I had someone I could call on to help me with all of this, but our family is less than functional. The last thing my sister needs is more fault placed on her by anyone. Bulimia is a disease revolving around control. There is so much out of her control, that this is what she can control. I don't like it one bit. In my heart of hearts, I know this is a professionals only case and that family needs to leave her alone as they are the cause of most of this. It breaks.my.heart.into t h o u s a n d s of pieces. I wish different choices had been made.

The second slow death I cannot bear to write about today, so I will not.

This has been one of the hardest weeks of my life. It's been a trifecta of health disasters amongst my loved ones.

The cherry on top: my car died. Today.

Birthdays

Birthdays are a funny thing.

On this birthday I am sitting back watching myself change and morph into a person I didn't necessarily think I would become.

I'm sure you have had times in your life where time slows down and you look at who you are, where you are, who is around you, and where you are going. The future is in the forefront literally and figuratively. You conduct an evaluation of your life and match it up to your wildest dreams and see if they correlate. Are your wildest dreams still what they used to be? Are they still the reality you desire? If so, how are things trucking along and should everything stay the same? If not, what, exactly, are you waiting for?

I've been evaluating this reality versus wildest dreams as of late. Just like a knight on a quest taking only her best knights, I've been evaluating my choices as I continue my quest into the great unknown while I attempt fate and reach my destiny.

There is something to this.

At the beginning of the quest, everything is stoic, rosy, and doable. As land is traveled and paths are crossed the unimaginable becomes reality and very imaginable be it beauty beyond the awe and imagination of the mind or the most ugly and deepest secrets of the underground. It changes you. It changes those on the journey with you. Some choose left, others choose right and you find that the true journey is manging each step and letting go of expectation and the idea that everything will go on as imagined.

At the beginning of the journey everything was black and white and choices were easy. Now everything is a shade of gray and each choice seems a compromise at best. The heart strings that were once strong and taught have been pulled left, right, and through creating great space for compassion, love, and understanding. Such a necessary step in understanding pain. Through this experience a wild unabashed compassion for grief, loss, love, and chance are born. Nothing is as it seems or as it ever once seemed. The world is the same, but you are changed and your reality is vastly different.

The quest comes to an end when the goal is reached and the knights return to the kingdom to celebrate victory or rethink loss. Either way, internally they are different people than when they left moons ago. And yet the towns people see them as they were the day they set foot into the forest, noble or rotten, either way, just returned and static.

I am changed and changing... in ways I never imagined. And not everybody sees it because they see me for the me that once was, not the me I am becoming. I'm like a flower opening and blossoming. A butterfly struggling to emerge from a cocoon only to shock everybody who saw me spin my web as a caterpillar. That which is on the outside will last only a short while longer and it is for the better.

I am just coming into my strength, my beauty, and my power as a human being. I am just learning to love and appreciate life and those in it. I thought I did so before, but there is more depth than I ever knew. This is happening with more tenacity than I ever thought possible. I am coming into my own and I am about to make waves with intent to warm people's hearts and lives in the best and most gracious ways possible. These are my wildest dreams unfolding before me and I want to share them with the most loving, open, and accepting people possible.

This is what my 29th birthday is about.

AH, Break!

I have yet another quarter under my belt. This was the most challenging one of all... not because of the academic load, but because I was sick from October 12th - today (hopefully not much longer) with what turned out to be pneumonia.

Being sick for that long with the stress and pressure of academia I just want to fall to the floor and cry my eyes out, but I am too tired. So, a good long sleep it is.

Thanksgiving

We arrived at our hotel at 12:00 sharp, four hours prior to check in. As we walked up to the hotel we passed a 1939 Buick and a 1952 Cadillac, shinny and oh so classic. The glass doors glided smoothly to the side and we stepped into the type of warmth only this magnificent hotel could provide. The staff welcomed us with open arms and checked us in promptly. I could tell I was going to like this place already.

We strolled up to our room, taking in as much of the common areas that our eyes could muster only to find our room even more impressive with breathtaking views of the Columbia. I poked about the room, exploring every nook and cranny. French doors opening to a bathroom with a claw-foot tub, a tile shower, and every detail of luxury accounted for. Through the French doors a swallow-you-up king bed lie just before a wall of windows displaying the Columbia River. After mere seconds, I wanted to move into this hotel.

Carl and I decided to go explore Astoria, the only beach town we had yet to explore along the Northern Oregon Coast. We came across the Astoria Column on Coxcomb Hill, a 125 foot historic tower built to resemble Roman Trajan's Column. An artistic Frieze detailing the adventures of Lewis and Clark with 360 degree views of the Columbia River Basin, Astoria, and all surrounding bridges.

Little had we known that Astoria was the first permanent settlement west of the Rockies. The massive Columbia River has a star role in establishing Astoria. The small town is located by the convergence of the Pacific Ocean and the mighty Columbia allowing for early trade with easy access (not so easy if you know the history of the Columbia River swallowing over 2,000 ships as they attempted to cross the bar). The city was established in 1811 by members of the Pacific Fur Company (owned by the Astor family). There is a historic Trolley that runs along the waterfront that Carl and I have yet to experience. There are so many sights to see that we simply must return and explore them all!

After sight seeing a bit, we headed back to the hotel to watch giant cargo ships travel the river, all from our room. At five, we decided to attend the wine and lox happy hour in the hotel lobby, free of charge to guests. It was a fabulous way to excite our pallets for Thanksgiving dinner at the Bistro down the pier. At seven, we were chauffeured in a 1952 Cadillac to Thanksgiving dinner, a most romantic affair. City lights bounced off of the river, birds floated in the wind, and roast Turkey enlivened our taste buds. Following dinner, our chauffeur returned us to the hotel just in time for a soak in the hot tub followed by relaxation in the sauna. Completely and utterly melted like butter, we returned to our room leaving the balcony door open so that we might listen to the sounds of the river as we drifted off to sleep wrapped in one another's arms.

We were awakened by the smell of breakfast lingering in the lobby. Belgian waffles made to order. Fresh fruit. Hard Boiled eggs. Coffee. Delightful decadence all perfectly satisfying. Satiated, we soaked in our clawfoot tub while watching the fish and crab boats head out to sea.

This has been one of the most romantic (and best) Thanksgiving's I have ever experienced. If anything, this holiday has validated that I have the best husband in the entire world. None of these experiences could have been as magnificent if he hadn't been by my side.

I Give up

I give up. Seriously.

I've learned Something (Quite a Few Somethings)

There are two types of learning- hearing about something, knowing of it's existence, it's purpose, possibly from a text, or a lecture, or a friend or media. And then there is experiential learning.

I've noticed a few things through observation of people around me. People fail to see change as it is happening in those outside of themselves. Day in and day out, we are surrounded by the people we see and work with everyday. We've come to expect a certain attitude, or experience with each individual based upon past experiences (even ones from the day before)... but at what point do we stop and truly assess the changes they have recently (or not so recently) made within their lives?

I'm sure you can all relate if you have ever moved away from a loved one or a school friend only to reunite with them and notice a bump in what you remember the relationship used to be like in the old days... If there is one lesson I have learned throughout my entire life, it is that change is constant, nothing ever stays the same whether you want it to or not. So why do we fail to see this constant change each day?

The phrase, "It's a brand new day" strikes relevant here. I finally know it experientially for what it is. Every single day, I will wake up and leave my house with a sincerely clean sense of what I perceived from the day before. It's not that I should toss aside any knowledge or valuable information, but I should let it sit by the wayside rather than the forefront so that I can live in the moment and see it for what it is. The same goes for people. People constantly change. Each day, I will wake up and observe change.

Honestly, this boils down to the same idea as my last post- non judgment. Really, if anything is approached, it should be approached in this manner. I suppose this is just another angle in which I will enact this behavior.

The other bit' o gold I've been sitting on is 'creating my reality'. Truly, we each have the power to create our own realities and I've been working on changing mine.

When I was younger, I wrote a list of qualities I wanted in a soul mate. A wise soul once said I should be all of the things I had written on that list in order to attract it- by golly, was she ever right. That would be Carl, by the way. He is everything on that list and more. But this is not the point. The point is I want to change how people see and treat me. So I've made another list and I am choosing to be all of the things on that list honestly, genuinely, and to the best of my ability. In doing so, I've come to realize that while I want everything on that list to be true and to come true, I cannot change the core of who I am. I will always be passionate, I will always advocate for the stigmatized populations regardless of who I am standing up to, I will always care about someone else and how they are feeling, and I will always be a bit fiery with a high standard for social justice and equality. This is most certainly not the easiest road, I've come to find. People don't like to be called out for wrong doings to others. I'll tell you that it also doesn't make me a favorite or liked by some people. I've decided this does not matter. I would rather stand up for what is right on my own, then to stand up for what is wrong, unjust, untrue, or harmful amongst a million people. I've come to realize, this is who I am, and no matter what, it's not going to change. Once I made this decision, it didn't bug me as much seeing people change their behaviors toward me in the latest standing up for "right," which was slightly controversial (which I attest). Some people came out of the wood work while others went into it. I wouldn't change any of it because I maintained the core of who I am.

I suppose, the last lesson of this blogpost is to be true to who I am and never assess or change myself according to someone else's standards.

My Message to Society as a Whole

Stop being afraid of what you don't know.

The other day, Carl and I were on a journey to find some school supplies. I am all about quality at a great price and that requires research and patience... and a whole lot of looking around. On one of our trips to the suburbs, we arrived to a store front before the store was open. We weren't the only ones.

A lady in her 50's was also there. I was driving and parked our car so that we were face to face with her car (it was a great parking spot). This startled her tremendously once she got a look at who was in the car. Her eyes would stare at us, but once I looked up to meet hers, she would look down. Great. Another lady either A: afraid of black people or B: Against biracial couples. Fine. So be it. She can take that stance all she wants, but I was going to continue looking her in the eye to challenge it. Carl and I got out of the car and walked into the store next door to the one that was closed. We were inside maybe five minutes. Upon our exit, the lady had moved her SUV to the next lane of parking spots. I knew it, and I had a hard time not being bothered. Get over yourself and your fears of the unknown.

Sure this lady could have had a bad experience with a black person or biracial couple- but I doubt it. Even if she had, it's wrong to assume that because one person from a certain population does you an injustice the entire population is now a disgrace to be avoided.

The store finally opened and we went inside. The lady happened to be there (fancy that), and even cut me off while walking. She was so afraid of us it was palpable. Every inch of my body wanted to go up to her and ask why she was so stirred by our presence. Had we done something to her? Had she had a bad experience with someone resembling the black race? Is she just afraid of what she doesn't know? I wanted to call her out and demand an answer. But I didn't.

The only way our world will grow past it's troubled status quo is if we work together to come together. Confronting that lady in the state of being upset would not have done much to accomplish that goal. Instead, I gave her a warm smile and continued on my merry way with Carl.

Stop the fear mongering. Stop the tales of this and that. Be real and investigate these truths for yourself. The only way we are going to move forward is to understand that we are all just people. People trying to survive, feel loved and important, and justified in our existence. When it becomes apparent that we are all people, a connection is made- we are all the same. If we are all the same, it becomes apparent that what happens to one of us, happens to all of us.

World, I beg of you, stop being afraid of what you don't know and explore the world using your own eyes sans judgments. If you find yourself afraid, ask yourself why. Face yourself. Grow. Open your heart. Be real. Stop slinging hate and judgment based upon your lack of understanding of other cultures, people, and experiences.

I'll say it again- We are all connected. What happens to one of us happens to all of us. How do you want your world to be?

There's more to the the issue than I previously discussed.

It's religion pushing an agenda (Koran burning- WTF? Proselytizing my "God's" way or you go to hell propaganda... ), it's cliques of exclusivity 'we feel safe because we are the same and everyone else can suck it because they are different and we are a better class of people... And oh, it's comfortable.' It's people who own homes viewing those experiencing homelessness as being there due to their own fault- 'nothing due to circumstance or chance- or maybe not, either way, it makes me uncomfortable so I'll judge it'.....ANY form of hierarchy. It's much bigger than me and my experience. It's the way we all choose to see the world everyday and thus make choices based upon our views.

I'm making a plea that we stop these false judgments and love each other. This was not written as a way for me to whine about my own injustice, but rather on behalf of people who aren't always given an opportunity to do so. I think people fail to realize that the difference lies in the small choices we make everyday- not necessarily big dramatic ones. Make eye contact with people- give them a look of warmth and acceptance.Hold the judgment on how they look, act, etc because it's different from what you or I know (these are just reflections of the self anyhow-explore those rather than react to them). It's in the details that this change will be made.

I live a very privileged life and I know it- with it I feel comes responsibility to help other people not so well off because in the end, we're all the same. What good am I to the world if I use all of my privileges in a self absorbed manner? Absolutely none. What's even worse- by doing nothing to make change, I am hurting myself and limiting my own growth. That's unacceptable.

So why the rant and why now? Inundations of judgments on people everywhere are outnumbering kind acts as I walk down the street, sit down for class, watch and read the news, ride the max, and grocery shop. It breaks my heart.

Charisma. It means something.

I was at a birthday party last night (which was rather fun) with a few folks discussing old sitcoms and movies. I am not so sharp with pop culture before my time, nor pop culture during my time. I've never spent energy falling in love with a certain show or cartoon or movie, for that matter. When I was a kid, I watched them, because that's what we did, but I never really loved these shows so I never really took note for later referencing. So, much of this discussion was over my head. However, there were points where I was able to reference certain shows (in this instance, Jackass- the conversation was about censoring). The prime moment came for me to make my comment. I took it and referenced Jackass, but it was as if my comment went unnoticed- because it did. This happens often, but that is a whole other story, or maybe it's not- we'll see. A few moments later, another person made the exact same comment I had just made, but his was wildly accepted with laughter.

Here is where what you say doesn't necessarily matter, but how you say it does. We have a few famous examples of this throughout history. Currently, you could look at Glen Beck and Sarah Palin. Both of these people are absolutely absurd. What they say is full of fluff and hardly valid. However, people watch, listen, and even follow them with a fervent need for more of anything they say. Why? It's not what these people say- it's how they say it. Take Hitler for example- exceptionally charismatic- to the point he was able to persuade millions of people to kill other people on the basis of religion and ethnicity. Who in their right mind would kill or harm a person because someone else tells them to? Sadly, the answer is many- but not many people have the power to create these instances and followings.

A person who knows the art of speaking and relating to other people is powerful. Very powerful. I would love for the world to be different, let's say a world where everyone thought for themselves. A world where if someone told you a piece of information, one wouldn't simply accept it at face value, but would question it's authenticity, it's purpose, it's history. I do believe this is also known as critical thinking, something that is desperately lacking in the general public and rarely asserted. Unfortunately, critical thinking will only take you so far with people if you don't know how to present yourself and your tidbits. One could be the most intelligent person around with loads of information on how to make life easier for all of those suffering, but it will go unnoticed if it's not backed with a powerful presentation or sheer proof of it's perfection.

Back to the party. I do not assert myself or my comments unless I find myself in an intellectual discussion in which I am defending an idea... The charismatic parts of myself only appear when my passions are presently stimulated. I rarely make comments, I avoid small talk like the plague, and often when I do make comments, they are received as if I am invisible. There is a very valid reason for this. I am very particular about the people I surround myself with. I don't feel as though I am better than anyone (we are all equal beings), rather, it's a defense mechanism. I speak to people when the moment calls for it, but I certainly don't seek those moments out. At parties and social events, I really have no say over the people present, nor am I going to live the life of a hermit who rarely makes an appearance (though the idea is very intriguing). Instead, I listen. I watch people. Because I am often quietly observing, people assume I am but a decoration or wall attachment. People don't seek out the inner workings of a silent or quiet person, rather, they flock to the charismatic folks like Carl. Which I find rather funny. You see, Carl is not only charismatic, he is very intelligent, generous, and has a soft loving energy about him. But people only know this because not only does he know how to sell himself, but he enjoys doing so.

I suppose the lesson here is twofold; Charisma of the right sort equates social power and one should never judge a book by it's cover, but rather investigate what tidbits are tucked softly inside it's pages.