Cruelty and Disconnection

It never ceases to amaze me...the amount of cruelty in the world, the level to which we're willing (as human beings) to be vicious toward one another. It makes me want to scream, "HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN?" Have we forgotten that our actions run outward from us, like an echo? Every cruel behavior impacts the victim, the victim's beloveds, random strangers, and (eventually) the entire society. No, you say. It doesn't. If I cut someone off in traffic, it affects only me and them.

No, I say. It doesn't. When I witness an act of rudeness, I'M bothered by it. I'm indignant at the discourteous behavior of one person toward another. I KNOW the damage being done. When you've done mental health and social work for more than two decades, you begin to understand the way that actions filter through person after person until the ripples are so far beyond the original players that you can scarcely identify them.

How many of you have turned off a news story because the heinous nature of the act was so difficult to watch? Or, hid an item in your Facebook news feed because it was too graphic to take? Or, cried at a news article, or upon hearing the sad story of someone else's loss? That's called empathy. (More and more, its lacking in our society due to the nature of social media and impersonal communication, but that's a conversation for another day.) The true issue is that ALL human beings have the capacity for empathy. It CAN be taught. But, most of us already have it in spades. In fact, empathy is so terribly uncomfortable for most people that they build emotional and behavioral shields to prevent them from being impacted by the feelings of others.

I would argue that this is not only unnecessary, but encourages the existence of cruelty. When we become numb or ignorant of the hardship and emotional states of everyone around us, we become detached from our divine connection. Speak with any criminal psychologist and they'll talk to you about how a predator depersonalizes a victim, reducing them to an object rather than a person...a thing rather than a he/she. I would argue that we all do this, to some extent...people involved in horrible disasters on the other side of the world become an abstract concept. But, for many, people in the next neighborhood also become "far away." We have become a society who reserves our empathy only for our most bonded beloveds.

The situation is well described by sociologists in urban areas, where many people are close in space. They call it urban isolation, or depersonalization of human association. In other words, personal relationships are lacking. How well do you know your neighbors? Your local shopkeepers? The servers at your favorite restaurant? Chances are, you don't.

It is my opinion, that it is NORMAL for us to feel impacted by the moods and emotions of others. In fact, I would go so far to say that it is actually HEALTHY. We've become a world that fears and despises discomfort. As a result, we go to great lengths to avoid any unpleasant sensation -- including the use of substances, false affects, and dozens of other techniques. We, in fact, celebrate 'toughness.' I believe that this single perspective is destroying human civilization from the inside out. We are constantly combative, fighting over imagined scarcity. We don't help others because we fear not having enough for ourselves. We invent reasons to justify our poor behavior, like the Protestant Work Ethic -- the idea that poverty is punishment for lack of ambition. The bottom line, of course, is that the Protestant Work Ethic and other similar precepts are there to justify greed and separation. There are good reasons to have "idle hands," sometimes.

If we want to be well as a people, I believe that we must reconnect to each other. We must build our tolerance for discomfort, recognizing that discomfort SHOULD spur us to action. If I'm uncomfortable because of someone else's suffering, it generally causes me to act to alleviate said suffering. Is this not how compassionate people SHOULD behave? Is this not what every religion on the planet teaches -- love for fellow person?

A candle is not dimmed by lighting another candle. 

And, we are never diminished by acts of kindness and compassion.

Think on it.

Please.

Revelations and Lack of Coffee

For as long as I can remember, I've been a hard-core, two-fisted coffee drinker. Huge tumblers of it in the morning, more in the afternoon, even more in the evening. When the weather was hot, I drank it iced. I really never wanted anything else to drink. Ever. And, then, the worst thing ever ... caffeine toxicity. O-M-G!

Apparently, it is not a good idea to drink large amounts of caffeine for long periods of time. I was so violently sick. So, I switched to green tea, thinking the lower amounts and gentler acidity would work. Um. NOPE.

Next, I tried decaf. NOPE. The acid tore my stomach up. SO, decaffeinated herbal teas it is. And, one more thing falls away. The funny thing was: I never got angry. Or sad. Or upset at all.

Its been a month of revelations.

I was promoted at work. And, I'm currently sitting in a position that I never, in a million years, imagined for myself. Yet, the fit is ideal. Other people have said that they envisioned me in this role. I never did.

After many years of spiritual study along a specific path, I finally conceded that it didn't fit at all. And, I let those tags fall away, as well as many of the people that went with them. There were some angry responses from some folks. And, I (once again) had to consider my definition of friend. While I adore and appreciate many friendships that are really confined to Facebook, I recognize that they are largely restricted to an online environment and unlikely to stand the test of loyalty in the real world. Everyone, clearly, doesn't agree with my opinion in that arena. That's OK.

I stopped responding to the PMs. I thought about whether I should give people the benefit of accepting their feelings for their closure. But, I concluded that I didn't have the extra emotional energy, and that its really not up to me to provide that. And, I stopped reading them. I've no ill will toward any one of those people, no matter what they said in the PM. They feel how they do. That's their right.

And, I'll go back to seeking the spiritual path that I belong to. I know my beliefs. I would just like a like-minded community. I haven't found it, yet, and have often wondered if it was because I was supposed to build it. But, that will be fodder for another wander.

In the meantime, I have noticed, time and again, that pieces keep falling away. Instead of new things being added, I seem to drop things instead. And, they are usually things that no longer serve me, but have instead become weights to carry....

....insecurity
..........false paths
..................acquaintance and ungenuine relationships
..............................responsibility for others' feelings and decisions
..........................................conformity to avoid loneliness
......................................................fear of risk
.................................................................old wounds
.............................................................................past patterns
.........................................................................................masks and misrepresentations

And, as each drops off, I become more me.

Penance ... NOT EVEN. Blessing, yes.

I had the most disturbing conversation the other day. And, because I'm an over thinking, ruminating sort of chick, the more I've thought about it, the angrier I've gotten.

The conversation went along the lines of this:
I was talking about the difficulties of adjusting my schedule to meet the needs of my two very young grandchildren of whom I have guardianship; as well as how my marriage has had to grow and change in order to accommodate the kids. And, I should mention that I was incredibly positive in my story...I talked about how it was difficult at first, but that we had a flow and schedule and things were much easier now that everyone has become accustomed to that.

All of this was in response to a direct question about how things were going with the kids...I did not randomly begin talking about my own life without invitation.

I should mention that the person with whom I was conversing was someone who knows me well and who has been in my life for many years.

Their response to my statements:
Well, you must have the grandchildren as penance for not doing it right the first time. Apparently, you're supposed to do it better, this time around.

I remember tilting my head at them and thinking, "No. That's not what they just said." Then, I spent some time in my head while I changed the conversation to their life, trying to find a reasonable explanation and to see it from their perspective.

Don't think I haven't had the guilt and shame associated with every parent of an adult child who is not able to raise their own children. I have. Don't think I haven't actually thought, myself, that the universe was providing me with a second opportunity to parent, thereby giving me the option to do things differently. Or, that the universe felt that I needed something positive to focus on and delivered unto me these precious lives.

Never, EVER for a single second, did I ever feel punished.

And, all I've felt toward this person since then was rage.

How DARE they liken my grandbabies to some form of punishment? How DARE this person liken ANY child to penance?

How DARE they insult my parenting with my own children? Have I made errors? Of course! What parent hasn't? Would I do things differently this time? Yes. There are many things I will do differently - I will not put my career in front of these children. I will not shirk off a vacation because I know I'll be bogged down at work when I return. I will not become triangulated in any relationship.

I do not share details of my son's circumstances publicly, because its not my story to tell. I've no right to put his business outside of family and trusted friends. I will NOT put it, here. I will say only that he and the kid's mother are not in a position to raise them. The rest, is no one else's concern. If you are my confidante, you already know some. I will not share all of it with anyone other than my husband and close family, who are well aware. Its not in my nature to do so. And, its not my right.

Let me make something absolutely clear:

I AM BLESSED to be in a position to take care of these precious souls.

I believe that the universe TRUSTED me and DELIVERED these babies unto me for care and nurturing.

I do not think that I will allow this person to remain in my life. There is something thoroughly certifiably twisted about their thought process. And, in no way, can I spin it to be understandable. How awful it must be for people who believe that caring for ANY other creature, let alone vulnerable people, is a chore.

I've never once felt resentful at caring for the kids. I've never once felt put upon. I've never once doubted for a second that I would do it for as long as they need me.

My one and only grief in the whole situation is that I can't spend as much time with my other two grandchildren as I would like, because having all four (ages 1, 2, 3, 4 years) by myself is too much for me to do anything meaningful. Instead, I spend most of my time corralling. That's not what I want. So long as I have another adult to help, I'm glad to have all four.

I know many people, right now, who are caring for others. I'm sure that its difficult and that they are tired, some days. I am, too. But, I don't know any of them who see it as amercement. Those are not the kind of people in my life. And, they are not the kind of people I WANT in my life.

If you are taking care of someone else, BLESS YOU. THANK YOU. You are gifted with the incredible opportunity to impact someone else. The universe has decided that you are worthy to care for others. It is a GIFT.

Many blessings...

Squash or Celebrate?

This morning was a hot mess. We were late. My 3 year old granddaughter, who I call Pixie, decided to have a potty emergency five minutes AFTER we should have walked out the door. So, back into the house we went to change clothes, use the potty, wash everyone's hands, and try again.

Once all that was resolved, we were off (now 10 minutes late) to the Unitarian Universalist church that I've attended off and on for more than a decade. For those that aren't familiar with the idea of UU-ism, here's an oversimplified answer: UUs value everyone, regardless of any human characteristic. They welcome straight as well as LGBTQ+, atheists or any other religious (or lack of ) belief system..in short, ALL people are welcomed. They believe that diversity improves the world. They also embody a social justice perspective of tolerance, acceptance, and social action. For obvious reasons, I appreciate the open community.

We arrived just after the service had begun, missing the announcements, prelude, and welcome, but making it for the bulk. The children are always in the service until after they have special time with the worship leader (may be the minister or a lay leader, depending). This happens just about 1/3 of the way through the service. So, the schedule is something like this:
Musical Prelude (Music for Gathering)
Welcome
Announcements
Chalice Lighting
Hymn of the Month

It was during the Hymn of the Month...the first participatory song in the service that I had a moment of epiphany.

My Pixie was, as is her custom, dancing around while the congregation sang.

We were all the way in the very back, (of course) being latecomers, but the church was pretty full, so we were joined by others in that section.

And, for the first time, my hands weren't full with her baby brother, so I noticed things...

People were looking.

Some were smiling and swaying.

Some were scowling, clearly displeased that my beautiful granddaughter was out of her seat or moved by music.

Oblivious, Pixie twirled around and around. In three year old fashion, she bumped into an empty chair with little effect. She wasn't daunted and kept right on twirling, her face a mask of concentration and flow....purely invested in her dance.

And, two things happened simultaneously in my brain:
1. I smiled and was in awe for a minute or two of her complete safe embrace in the moment. Her self-possession was both charming and powerful.
2. I was tempted to snatch her back, hiss at her to sit down and be still. It was, after all, what would have been done to me. It was, undoubtedly, what I did with my own (now grown) children. Children were to be still, silent, polite, "seen and not heard."

I was horrified on more than one plane:
1. I felt tremendous shame that I'd forced my own children into the quiet box where creativity and self-expression were not allowed.
2. I felt fear to not force Pixie in the same box ... what if she can't function in society? What if she can't make friends? What if? ...yes, I recognize the idiocy of this, but it is a real fear.

In my own life, some level of conforming was required in order for me to be successful in my career, in my neighborhood, and in my life at large.

Where's the balance?

How do we decide what to encourage and what to correct?

Why do we need these norms and rules, anyway?

No, I will not allow my grandchildren to be wild, rude, and inconsiderate. I draw clear lines there. I believe in being polite and kind. I believe in cooperation and humility. Compassion is one of my core values and will be largely celebrated.

But, isn't the sweeping insecurity and epidemic of low self-esteem largely due to our forced rules, desperate and counterproductive socialization techniques, and desire to control children? Even our laws require that caregivers exercise "care, custody, and control" over children.

And, not expecting it, I am now a middle-aged woman grappling with the big questions of child-rearing, again. And, I expect I'll answer them quite differently than I did the first time.

Celebrate EVERYTHING.

Teach kindness.

Demonstrate compassion.

keep it moving

For much of my adult life, I maintained an ecofeminist perspective. Half of you are probably baffled by what that means. In short (and this is the most rudimentary explanation), it means that I had a girl god and I believed in the power and importance of nature. I also believed that nature is somewhat feminine in characteristic and that women are responsible for protecting the earth's resources, as a result. Before other ecofeminists jump down my throat for that somewhat skewed and incredibly simplistic explanation... JUST STOP. Its not the point, anyway, so doesn't need to be beleaguered.

I found myself quite entrenched in a somewhat comparable religious community, where I never quite fit. Ever. I kept the feminist perspective and was introduced to the Red Tent Temple Movement, the Goddess Spirituality Movement, and dozens of others. And, still, I never quite fit. I had some shared understanding, but mostly was disappointed by the lack of ethical codes, morality, and a proliferation of infighting and ego battles.

My core beliefs are these:
1. All things are made of energy -- the SAME energy. Therefore, all things are connected and impact upon one another.
2. Kindness, compassion, and humility are absolutely necessary for each person to strive toward.
3. There is no one truth. There is only my truth.
4. Self-fulfilling prophecies are real.
5. Each person creates their own reality through their thoughts, feelings, and behaviors.
6. Everyone is responsible for their own choices, and the consequences of those choices.
7. There is a plan. We can mess up that plan via stubbornness and failure to follow our intended path. (No, I don't think the path is paved...more ambiguous than that.)
8. People enter our lives because they are supposed to. We have lessons to learn and teach in this life.
9. Every single thing has a purpose and meaning.
10. The universe is intelligent.
11. There are no gender roles (they are culturally created and enforced concepts that don't really exist in the natural world). There's no girl god or boy god. There's only GOD. Its bigger than gender. Its bigger and more mysterious than some reflection of human characteristics.

Yes, I'm comfortably in the new age, metaphysical perspective. And, yes, my American Indian and northern Euro mystic heritages play a part in my thoughts. Yes, I'm totally fine with that. No, I didn't fit well in my previous community. Yes, I left it. Yes, I'm a little sad about it. Yes, I let go of everyone who I don't have a real relationship with, or with whom I wouldn't spend time with aside from religious interaction.

I imagine this is very much like someone who left one worship home and went to another for whatever irreconcilable differences they experienced at their previous house of worship. Its sad. There are people you will miss. But, its usually a reflection of deeper self awareness and understanding. I don't like labels. I don't want to be a part of any religious community that requires me to use a variety of monikers to identify myself, or to smash myself into any belief system.

But, the real, bottom-line issue is: I don't want to be a part of any religious community where I cannot, will not share common values (or lack of) with the larger segment. I will carve out my own world where I find commonality, I guess. For now, I'll call myself a 'seeker.'

And, on the travels go. Because, I needn't worry about spiritual growth, as long as I keep it moving....

why i make art to abandon...

I'm controlling. Its true. I know that my desire to control comes from a place of anxiety...deep fear that came about in times when my life was unmanageable, uncertain, and unwieldy.

Those are nice words. I've a tendency to minimize and use tact when truth is hard.

There were times in my life that I actually feared for my existence because a larger, stronger person threatened to take it away in a manner that assured me that they had both the capacity and the intent to do so, should they get tired of me.

There were times when my life was so chaotic and discombobulated that I didn't know what might happen from minute to minute. Then, being the good masochist that I am, I worked in a career that provided me with the opportunity to experience the trauma and fear of other people, particularly vulnerable people, in a close and immediate way. This sometimes also endangered my own physical well-being.

Is it any surprise to anyone that I like predictability? Serenity? Or, that I struggle with flexibility and release? I don't let go well. I don't like it when things don't go as I expect. I'm sure there are some people out there, right now, saying, "Oh! I LOVE surprises!" Well, bully for you. Really. I hate them.

For as long as I can remember, I've made art -- paintings and sketches, drawings and doodles, poetry and prose, stories, clothing, embroidery, shoes, furniture, and countless other things that employed creativity. I've sold some and gifted some, lost some, trashed some, donated, and redone.

But, now, I abandon them. Yep. I leave them in public places with a tag that says free art. (It says more than that, but the point is the same.) Its not my original thought. I bumbled onto a Facebook page called Art Abandonment...check it out, if you like....and, there was this concept...this worldwide movement based on a book...where artists (professional and rudimentary) just leave their art laying around in an attempt to spread a little good will. Some of the pieces are so simple, some are so intricate...jewelry, line drawings, colored pictures, painted rocks...the idea is all the same -- people trying to offer something good to the world, trying to lift the vibration of love by being generous and kind, by sharing a small part of themselves (this is what art IS, after all, don't you think?).

I fell in love with the concept, and began abandoning immediately. I sign only my first name and give no way to find me. I do include the info on the Facebook page and the email they maintain in case people want to report their finds or join in the leaving.

And, guess what happened?

The first time, I abandoned in another town that I don't frequent, drove away, and was OK. I wondered if someone found the piece, but was content that the universe would see it got to the right person. The second time, I got nervous...The art wasn't picked up right away. My insecurities flared crazily...

Its not good enough even to be free. I'm unwanted. Why am I creating trash that someone has to clean up?

Oh, yes. I went there. Then, I got distracted (thank goodness for my busy brain) for a while, and when my thoughts wandered back, I said a little prayer that whoever wanted it would find it, and I had to accept that maybe they'd find it in the landfill if that was what was in the plan. That got my head back in the right place.

I made the mistake, once, of abandoning in my own town. I drove back three times to see if it was still there. (It was.) And, I finally had to repeat my little prayer and make a deal with myself to not drive back there for a week. (I did bribe myself with ice cream. Hey! We all need a little motivation. Don't judge.)

I've abandoned several, since. I don't drop in my town anymore. The temptation to go look is too much. I do post most drops to the Facebook group, because I love it. I've got five pieces in various stages of process that will be abandoned.

No, I don't keep it or sell it if it turns out great. Yes, there are some pieces that I'm reluctant to abandon. I do it, anyway. This is really about learning release for me, you know, in the process of being kind to the world. Its also about faith -- faith that this has a purpose (as do I), faith that it matters (to them and to me), faith that the universe works things out without my insane attempts to control everything.

So, I'll keep doing my thing, learning to let go and let guidance of spirit run things.

Blessed be.

Sex, Gender, Gender Identity...Oh My!

The older I get, the more I become aware of constructs that are so insidious, so pervasive in our society, that we accept them as fact without investigation or even contemplation...

One such construct is the idea of gender. Sex and gender are frequently used interchangeably, but they're not at all the same. Sex is biological. I am female because I have the reproductive organs of a woman...vagina, uterus, ova, etc. I was born female. I'm not upset about that. In fact, I quite enjoy it.

But, the only thing that my biological sex determines is the role I may play in the procreation process. That's it. And, that is (of course) contingent upon my being born with a complete, functional set of sex organs AND finding a partner of the opposite sex with a complete, functional set of male sex organs while both of us are in appropriate condition for reproduction. I'm not more or less superior because my sex organs work optimally.

None of this is likely a surprise to anyone. Here's the part where people get confused. Gender is not biological. Gender is internal and intangible. Gender is the sense of being male or female, largely in respect to cultural expectations, but not exclusively so.

And, in case the water wasn't muddy enough...Let's introduce the third construct of gender roles. Gender roles are those aspects deemed feminine or masculine by any society. It is extremely important to remember that these outward expressions are variable according to each individual culture -- most American women would balk at the clothing restrictions placed upon many women in the Middle East. But, even more confusing is the understanding that the expectations can vary even within one culture. For instance, the expression of feminine clothing in the outlaw biker community would be quite different than that of the Amish community. These countercultures both have their own rules about feminine expression, and while they both exist within the larger American culture, they are opposed to most of the larger culture's beliefs and norms.

Overwhelmingly and regardless of society, gender roles are manipulations of socialization and social control. Failure to abide by the norms, or standards, or any society is met with disdain and resultant sanctions (exclusion, punishment, etc.) by the larger group. An example would be the fact that an adult male openly and loudly weeping in a public movie theater because he was touched emotionally by the movie would be met with stage whispered comments about his sexuality, shaking heads, and possibly with outright and directed aggression at his lack of manly behavior. Of course, the norm in American society is that men are emotionally controlled and not weak enough to allow their emotions full expression, and certainly not public display.

As were most women of my age, I was repeatedly told to act like a "young lady" during my childhood. This meant to sit with your knees together, to pull your dress down before you sit, to be quiet when others were talking, to be nurturing and loving, to play with dolls, and many more things. As a consequence, the socialized messages were that I was to be diminutive in all things. I was disciplined harshly when I failed to do what was expected. I learned to sew and cook and clean things. It was not OK for me to be angry, to be physically aggressive, or to do any other thing that was considered masculine in the blue collar world where I lived.

I'm not faulting my parents, at all. In fact, they were more liberal than most. I played sports, although the girls teams still wore shorts and were expected to slide in softball (I have the scars to prove it). I was quick to get into physical altercations and, while I think it drove my father crazy, I really think my mother was secretly tickled by it. I was not one to let others dictate things to me, but like every other person in our society, I had to conform to some extent or suffer...dress right or no job, act right or be punished at school and be rejected by peers, etc. And, my parents were only a small part of that process...peers, extended family, neighbors, teachers, religious leaders, doctors, and every other person in my sphere had input and influence.

And, today, I clearly see the limiting influence of these ill-thought-out attempts at forcing us to squeeze ourselves into a tiny, suffocating box. In fact, the entire rationale behind these dictated gender roles are baffling to me -- yes, I understand from a sociological perspective that the norms likely originated in religious values that are now considered puritanical by most, but their influence remains. They've become so ingrained that we either accept them unconditionally and reinforce them with cruel joy as we demean and belittle those who don't comply; or, we blissfully and ignorantly delude ourselves into believing that societal gender oles don't exist, or that they are charming and functional.

I assert that they are not. They are minimizing. They seek to separate us, or at least to interfere with connection while simultaneously lowering our sense of self, stunting our creativity, and ensuring a lack of genuineness. They prevent us from honest self exploration and expression, and force us into the box or into the role of outlier, rebel, troublemaker.

So, here is my vow:

I REJECT gender roles. Empirical research has clearly shown that there are not ascribed behaviors given to either sex. Instead, behaviors are achieved after social learning and observation.

I will not limit myself to behavior, characteristics, or activities that are deemed acceptable for my sex. I'll do what makes me happy and what feels real and genuine to me, according to my skill and interest. I will express these things unashamedly, regardless of response by others.

I will NEVER criticize any other person for demonstrating any genuine emotion, action, or opinion that is traditionally OK for only one gender. I will accept people for who they are, and who they strive to be, according to their own desires and self-determination. Short of causing danger/damage to another person, I will respect every person's own assertion of self.

I WILL stand in support of others who wish to be genuine in their own lives. I will openly and vocally support all persons in this pursuit, regardless of our differences.

The problem with a woman president ...

     In 2001, members of Congress owed $2.53  million in back, personal income taxes. In 2014, 714 tax delinquents on Capitol Hill owed $8.6 million. I once owed taxes after a foreclosure. I had no peace from the IRS until it was repaid... My accounts were levied, my pay garnished, my future returns seized long past repayment. I owed a pittance compared to this amount. Interesting how the political elite operate under quite different rules. A 2013 bill to fire federal employees accountable for back taxes, of course, failed to be passed. Instead, those employees continue to be paid with federal funds while not supporting the system.
        But, these are the people that Americans keep voting into office to manage the nation's finances.... Explains some things about the current state of our government and economy, huh?
     And, it is an exceptional demonstration of the frustration by Americans regarding the disengagement and lack of personal accountability in its ruling body. Another deals with the length of time that Reps sit in office...
      On June 5, 2013, John D. Dingell, Jr of Michigan became the longest sitting member of Congress with 57 years, 5 months, and 26 days. 90% of House members and 91% of Senate members were reelected in 2012. In 2010, those numbers were 87% and 84%, respectively. And, these numbers are typical despite Congressional approval ratings falling as low as 10% according to Gallup polls, during the same terms. At age 86, Mr. Dingell first appeared on the House floor at age 6, when his father was elected to office. This gives rise to yet another aspect of the political machine.... Political families.
       Some, like the Kennedy family became quite near American royalty. The Bush family produced two presidents, and hopes for a third. In fact, in 2015, 20 members of Congress had parents who had also been in Congress. At least 5 more succeeded other family members, including siblings, uncles, and spouses. A 2013 piece by The Washington Post found 37 dynastic members. The same article noted that female legislators are nearly 3 times as likely to be dynastic as men.
      Earlier this year, Rasmussen polls showed that most Americans were far more concerned with reducing health care costs (59%) than mandating all citizens be insured (36%). In 2015, only 47% of Americans supported the ACA, more commonly called Obamacare, while members of Congress had quite stronger perspectives with 70% of Democratic members supporting and 72% of Republican members against. July 2014 Kaiser polls showed a high of American disfavor for ACA at 53%. Naturally, Congress exempted itself from ACA, promptly, so members never had a personal investment as to its success or failure.
      In 2014, Gallup polls showed that 60% of Americans believed that having a gun in their house made them safer. Another Gallup poll in 2015 showed more Americans having a favorable view of the NRA than not. The current presidential administration continued to promote gun control restrictions despite clear public dissent. Congressional members, naturally, are protected by armed Capital Police on the Hill and at official events. Senior leadership has 24 hour protection. Any concern also includes undercover municipal police protection. And, still many members elect to carry concealed.
        What's the point of all this rambling? I'm disgusted and frustrated with the disconnection of our sitting ruling bodies.... Some people get angry when I use the term "ruling," but I'd argue that it's the correct one.... Our "representatives" -- I'm using the term loosely -- are under no obligation to vote according to the conscience of their constituency (this is of course why we're a republic and not a democracy as the uneducated continue to call us).  And, they don't.
      I am no idealist, but I'm also dissatisfied with the perspective that working within the system will change it. In fact, my experience has been that such an endeavor is unlikely to work for many reasons... Not the least of which being that an agency's culture is persuasive and, in some cases, overwhelming. I believe this to be the case when considering the patriarchal, capitalist, power mongering culture of the federal legislature.
      Many wonderful articles have been written on the effects of patriarchy and misogyny, so I won't beat that drum, but I will point out that I believe the best measure of the entrenchment of patriarchy is by checking the behavior of its intended victims.... Women. When you have a society of women who compete, compare, and endeavor to put each other "in their place," you have an ugly, pervasively patriarchal society. Such a society will need to seek to heal it's women while simultaneously convincing those benefiting by the patriarchy that they are also victims (this is, of course, true, but a hard argument to make to those who believe they're having their cake and eating pie, as well; and, also a difficult argument for the obvious victims to swallow).
        Women must recognize that they've often abdicated their power in order to succeed in a more covert fashion which undermines said power; or in order to free themselves of personal responsibility. Successful women may resist this. I believe Mrs Clinton to be one of these women.... One who elected to use the tactics of  patriarchal men to move herself forward, which included compromising standards. I cannot support her bid for government given her indelible embroidery inside the political machine that I believe is failing us as a nation. I discard Mr. Sanders for the same reason.... A member of the legislature for nearly 30 years, I fail to see how and why he would suddenly wish to make changes, nor do I believe he can interfere with the aforementioned culture of the Hill.
         What's left of the choices? Absolutely nothing good. Nothing. Trump? No. Cruz? Absolutely not.
         What do I want in a candidate? Ideally: green party, but I'd settle for a libertarian with a brain. Truly, I want a constitutionalist..... Someone who will look at the labyrinth of conflicting law and enforcement bodies and begin simplifying by eliminating. If we've learned anything from the last fifty years, I hope that it's that we've created an untouchable, self perpetuating power elite which is completely divorced from the average citizen. My representative government doesn't represent me.
        Do I recognize how unrealistic my wants are? Naturally. I believe, instead, that we will see revolution and/or collapse in the course of my lifetime. I believe that this is likely necessary to destroy the ill effects of our entitlement and lack of personal accountability taken as a society. I also recognize that great hardship, violence, and misery is likely.

Obviously, the title didn't lead me where I thought it would, but I stand by it and will finish here.....
What's the problem with a woman president?
Nothing.
If she's the candidate that I believe represents my ideals. I haven't had one present themselves yet. But, I certainly wish they would.

Truth as subjective

There is no one truth. There is only my truth. This doesn't in any way invalidate my truth. Instead, it gives it perspective.

For instance, my belief is that the universe is made up of energy... Tiny units all vibrating at different frequencies which give each it's unique form and function. Physics professors probably agree with my truth, in this case. Another person may believe that all life is made up of biological substances which are impacted by their physical environment, begetting their physical forms. For that person, life may end at death. Because I believe energy cannot be created nor destroyed, death cannot possibly be the end of life.

Which of us is right? We both are. Because we each have our own truth. The existence of consciousness after death is not proven. I cannot force my point, nor can the other person. I could muddy this water a thousand more times with additional diverse beliefs, but why bother?

About now, some astute person is pointing out that I'm talking about belief not truth. I would challenge them to differentiate the two concepts as to make them clearly separate. Really. I'm interested in your thoughts. If you look up the definitions of the words, you'll find each word used in the definition of the other. **smile**

Here is the point of this exercise in mental masturbation (you did know there had to be a point, right?):
If I understand that my truth belongs to me, I don't feel compelled to disrespect or belittle anyone else's truth. I can give it the same space I give my own without the compulsion to disprove it in order to prove myself correct. And, none of that is dependent upon whether I personally believe in any or all (or none) of the tenets of someone else's truth.

Is the subjective world of persons diagnosed with autism or psychosis any less valid than my own because I cannot see through their eyes or they through mine? Of course not. Their world is just as real and valid to them as mine is to me. We just don't have the same experience in the same place. Our worlds are different.

The world outside of us, after all, is quite often a greater reflection of our personal inner worlds than any other factor.

Let that sink in a minute.

My Belly...A Love Song

I've spent years and years in a hateful, scornful relationship with my own body. This is not a revelation. It is just reality. The media barrage tells me, many times a day, that I'm not beautiful because I don't have a flat or concave set of washboard abs. It tells me that the lack of toned muscle around my middle means that I'm lazy, ugly, and -- truth be told, in light of my stretch marks -- deformed and hideous. Infomercials show me thin, ripped 50 year old women who've clearly been surgically (and otherwise) enhanced. They hold them up as the epitome of normalcy, making me the outcast.

I've had negative feelings about nearly every body part --
1. My eyes are not shaped the same, and one sits higher in the socket than the other, making me truly unphotogenic from every angle
2. There is cellulite on my thighs
3. My rear has become less perky and more of a long back
4. I have Fred Flintstone feet
5. My hands are gigantic and wide for a woman's -- paws, really
6. My breasts have run south faster than an Alabama felon
7. The backs of my upper arms wiggle and wave

I could go on and on and on, but no other body part received my disgust like my belly. It was never flat, even when I was quite thin. Its striped raggedly from one end to the other -- more closely resembling a sharp-clawed animal attack than a natural occurrence. I have hated it with a fury that caused me to hide it, cover it, strangle it in boning, and wrap it in spandex with a frenzy of determination to have an hourglass form.

As I've grown older, an understanding has been slowly, slowly creeping into my awareness. It began as a tiny whisper in the corner of my chest...the slight cringe whenever my husband rolled over at night, tucking in behind me and molding his body to mine, then slipping his hand around me, to rest on my not-flat stomach. And, his hand would just gently brush my belly, a gesture of love, and that tiny voice would be heard. That voice would grow when he would stand outside the bathroom door, watching me put on lotion or makeup, or drying my hair...a smile on his face. I could look in the mirror and smile at myself.

For, the voice didn't start from within...it was whispered to me from a dozen different sources...women friends who complimented me on how sexy I looked, admiring glances from strangers, the way my body feels in the strong wind with the trees dancing in jubilation.

And, still it grows....when I see the lovely celebration of the feminine power of transformation and nurture all around me -- my grandchildren laughing and spinning with no self-criticism, pure joy in their eyes. Flowers and bees and creatures of all kinds engaged in daily life with no regard to their own appearance. One rose does not compare itself to another...instead, it just blooms.

And, as I age, my body changes more -- softening and easing, adjusting to the pull of gravity -- that little voice has turned into a song. This is what it sings to me:

Love me, woman, for I have made you what you are.
You have felt the spill of blood, teaching you to release that which no longer serves you. 
Ecstasy has been in the clenching of your center, displaying pleasure and its possibilities. 
I have blessed you with co-creation, where you alone maturated and brought forth life from your womb.
That growth of tiny feet kicking to be free stretched your skin in the most amazing fashion, an artist painting a pattern all your own. 
And, again, this miracle occurred...with new feet and tiny hands, pushing, moving, sleeping, and playing before bursting into this world from its safety within you. 
You hold the cauldron, the source and origin of all life within your very body. 
Your blood flows like the waters of the sea, cleansing and renewing in turn. 
You can mark your days by the phases of the moon...so close to you She is. 
Love me, woman, for I have made you what you are. 
And, you are magick. 

And, the song is in my ears. It seeps into my soul. And, I know its truth.

For, I am woman. 

And, I am magical.  

Further more...

...I am unashamed. 

Deep Thoughts and Coffee

Deep thought over my coffee:
We live in such an unrealistic society. We expect to be happy, all the time; wealthy without hardship; educated without exertion; beautiful to an impossible standard; youthful forever; fearless in all things. We berate ourselves because we 'choose' to be sad; or don't 'deserve' good. How ridiculous! Life happens. Its imperfect, messy, frightening, and dreadful, sometimes. Fear is an adaptive reflex. Grief is healing. Pain is a lesson.

I want to embrace it all. (Please remind me when I forget.)

If no one has said it to you, today: 
YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. YOU ARE SPECIAL. YOU ARE AMAZING.

Now, what are you going to DO with all that? Because, feelings don't define us, ACTIONS DO.

xoxo 

A Holiday Poem

What?! No tantrums, grumbling, thumping, and crying?
No eyes rolled, toys thrown, grandparents sighing?
What would we do, with gratitude brimming?
Shining, blinking, sparkling trimming.
Oh, no, we can't have such thankfulness glowing.
There are tempers flaring and showing!
Run, I say! Fun, you must!
Put aside your lusty lust!

The holy days have come up.
Fill your plate and top your cup!
Gather, make merry, give kisses and hugs,
Put away all of those apathetic shrugs.
Dream, play, laugh, build, warm, and have mirth!
We are celebrating the return of the sun and our birth.
For, we as a people, are joined by the Goddess as one --
Whether we be Christian, Pagan, Witch, daughter or son.

I put out my hand to bring your's toward the circle,
For we all walk the spiral-- whirling and dancing, eternal.
When we're injured we bleed ruby red pennies and dust.
There's so much about us alike, we can trust,
That each has the other's best interests at heart,
Whether green-eyed or brown, right at the start.
We don't need to bicker, barter, or fight,
It doesn't matter which one is right.

The holy of holies has come,
Can you not hear the beat of the drum?
It matters not which name we give to our One,
Nor titles or rituals, short, long, boring or fun.
What matters is respect, joy, kith, kinship, and kin.
You don't buy it, or make it, you find it within.
It lives in your heart, your spirit, and soul.
Its there for us, always, each -- one and ALL!

For, we are far more alike than we are a'part,
Let this season help us to make a new start!
Bring to it your best, your love, and your strength,
For we will all travel-- trudge long and at length.
But, at the end of our journeys we'll find,
Each other, one heart, one soul, and one mind.
Will you walk with me now, my sister and brother?
Come, let us chat, understand, and know one another.

I wish you many, many blessings, no matter your tradition, holiday, ritual, or religion! 
Michele

Point of Focus

Maybe I'm alone in this particular situation, but I'll put it out there and see.....

Most of my life is fabulous: I have amazingly wonderful grandchildren who I can't imagine loving more than I do. I have a job that is a dream -- it challenges me, entertains me, and allows me to interact with others. I have a partner of 26 years who has been so unbelievably steady in his loyalty to us that it shocks me. My brain is clear and quick. There are close, intimate friends who support me. I could go on and on, but you get the point...

I have one area of my life that is a thorough mess...an adult child with an addiction. Addiction is a cruel disease, one that steals what little humanity we possess. Addiction dehumanizes us to the point of constant pursuit of our basest desires....MORE, at ANY cost. We steal, lie, cheat, manipulate, etc. There are no depths to which we will not sink. Cliche, I know. But, true, nevertheless.

And, that one pinpoint area of my life eats up more of my energy, sucks the blood from my marrow, drains my literal soul. No, I'm not exaggerating. Those people whose lives have contained addiction, I imagine, will know the truth about it.

Its incredible to me when people say things like:
"You have to accept that you have no control over [them]." -- I DO accept it. It doesn't relieve my worry. I long ago learned that the only person I can control is me, and I sometimes struggle with that.

"You know what [addiction is] like." -- Yes. I do. How in the world would my intimate, personal knowledge of addiction IN ANY WAY help relieve me of concern for my child? Do people think before they speak, at all?

"Give it up to your [higher power]." -- Again, I recognize that there is a plan for everyone. I also recognize that we have free will. Our free will often doesn't take us on the travels intended by the plan. I don't know who your deity is, but I don't believe that mine intends for people to unduly suffer, debase themselves, and hurt others in pursuit of addiction. The synthesis of pharmaceutical grade drugs, by the way, was manufactured by HUMANS. No, I don't think that a higher power granted us that clever ability. No, I don't think that my Goddess intentionally punishes for (or with) diseases.

We can have a difference of opinion. Its my blog, so (of course) the opinion, here, will be mine.

I believe that my Goddess provides me with opportunities. If I'm aware and conscious and paying attention, I recognize those opportunities for what they are....paths to my intended destination. But, I can always choose NOT to see/take them. Then, my road becomes winding and difficult, in my experience.

I'm not fool, liar, or idiot. My selfdom isn't so large that I believe I have a direct line to the Divine. I don't fancy myself 'ascended master' or other ego-based lunacy. I do not believe that my Goddess speaks directly to me, nor that She pushes me in any one direction. When I call to Her for assistance, it is the Universal Energy that I seek to focus my personal intent. And, in response, I'm provided choices. Some good, some not.

But, I can return to the path, any time I choose. However, the further I get from the path, the more complicated it is to find my way back.

I teach psychology. I can quote, all day long, about why our brains are more impacted by trauma and negativity than by positive experience due to the flood of neurotransmitters released. (This is also why we're far more likely to remember nightmares that pleasant dreams.)

I read neurological research. I know all about the addictive process in the brain, what it does, what we know, and how it impacts learning, thought, and behavior.

No amount of knowledge helps to alleviate, nor shrink, that growing pinpoint area of discomfort. If you have a solution, I'm listening.

WHY do I have such a very hard time trying to prevent the singular problem area (yes, I have other 'problems' but they are of little or no consequence to me) from stealing all my attention?

Of course, the REAL question is: WHY ME? WHY THIS? WHY ANYONE? 

Addiction is a foul disease that I would venture (if we had the ability to look at true statistics) is as costly and damaging to society, and causes as many deaths as cancer. Yet, it gets nearly no attention, because our society still considers it a weakness of character or will.

WAKE UP! Please...

Happy Thanksgiving with Gratitude

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

I have a request. If you don't do it, nothing bad will happen. They are just suggestions, things that have worked beautifully for me in my own life. If you don't, my feelings won't be hurt, no tragedy will occur, you won't be cursed.

First, WATCH THIS:

Then, TRY THIS:

1. Do what is suggested in the video -- write a paragraph or two (or more) about someone who has inspired you. Then, call them and read it to them, or mail it to them, or post it as your status and tag them in it. If that person is gone, read it to someone who knew them or write a tribute to them and post it on Twitter. Be creative.

2. Please make yourself a gratitude list today. Write it down, somewhere big and clear. Then, put it somewhere where you will look at it every single day, several times a day.....like on a post-it note on your laptop screen, refrigerator door, or in your wallet. (I usually put the post-it on my cell phone screen so I have to look at it and move it every time my cell beeps.) PLEASE take it with you if you go shopping this weekend. 

3. Smile at every person you meet for the week. Say hello.

4. Look for the opportunity to help people with no benefit to you. Yes, I said that. If at all possible, the helping should be anonymous. Don't tell anyone. No one should know that you've done something nice for someone else but you. Donate some clothing to a Planet Aid box. Buy the coffee of the person behind you in line. Take some blankets to an area you know the homeless congregate. Send a gift card with a gift receipt to someone you know is struggling.

Whenever I do this, I'm smiling all day.

This morning, I woke up to find that my unruly dogs had eaten the entire loaf of homemade bread that I spent 3 hours making, last night. Am I disappointed? Yes. But, before that happened, I woke up in the arms of the same man that I've been with for 26 years, warm in a bed with blankets in a house with enough heat. After that, I made coffee that is hot & fragrant. I sipped that coffee while watching this video. I read dozens of Facebook posts from friends & family who are counting their blessings & wishing well to others.

My life is rich. Blessed be you all.

Those Little Moments

This is the first Saturday in a long time that I've had the luxury of sitting for a bit with my coffee, catching up on Facebook, and reading the news. I work Monday through Friday, and for the recent month, long 13 and 14 hour days. I'm not complaining. I love my job, but it does make the weekends quite busy. Usually, my Saturday errands began before 7 am and end late afternoon. By then, I have home chores, and a standing Saturday night commitment to get ready for and attend. No more Saturday.

Sunday, I sometimes am committed to my spiritual group. Other times, I try to fit in time with my husband, or another person to whom I owe my presence. I know that sounds a little snippy, or egotistical, but isn't it the truth?

When it comes down to it, the only thing we can truly offer another person is our time, our presence.

And, truth be told, mine is feeling a bit minimal, lately. My schedule will ease up in a few more weeks after registration wanes and the semester ends, term papers are graded and final grades submitted. Until then, I've settled into the understanding that my life will be busy and I'll need to get enough sleep to accommodate the extra and take care of myself in a kind way.

Thank goodness I've come to that!

I used to keep pushing and running and white-knuckling my way through life, burning the candle at both ends with a misguided belief that I'm invincible, immortal, and unbreakable. Huh. WRONG.

Today, I have a a little more respect for my body and its limitations. Its a miraculous thing, but it needs to be loved.

What are you doing to care for yourself, today? I'm savoring my coffee and the small moment of quiet before everyone else stirs, the house gets chaotic, and I have things to do.

I'm one of those...

Self-knowledge avails me of nothing. Yep. I said it. The human services teacher and professional. Its true, at least in my life. Awareness, alone, does nothing unless it is paired with action. I'm sure some of my colleagues will be jumping up and down, demanding that I retract the statement, but I won't.

I am a person who has difficulty with excess. Sometimes, I explain to people that I am, in fact, a true addict. In other words, if I find any activity pleasurable, I will pursue it to the ends of the earth. I will abuse it. I will make myself sick with it. No, no amount of will power will save me. No amount of singular knowledge will improve my circumstance. I believe, and the newest research seems to confirm, that there is something different about the wiring of the pleasure centers of my brain -- they are overactive, overstimulated, and they create a craving that is undeniable. No, its not about willpower. Its about chemistry, and neurology, and genetics.

You see, I actually come from a very long line of people who are as compulsive and excessive as me. They have wrought havoc in their small parts of the world, pursuing addictions (yes, that is the word for the excessive pursuit of pleasure) to the tune of disjointed families and damaged children. They've destroyed promising careers and businesses, wrecked above average brains, been imprisoned, and died prematurely. Some of them did minimal damage in their compulsive obsessions, creating morbid obesity and concurrent health issues related to that state. Some drank alcohol or smoked pot only at home, devastating the family income and relationships, but doing little damage outside the house. Most took their insanity into their communities, causing a range of injury to self and others.

I'm no different than any of them. In my pursuit of substances, I punished my family for imagined violations of my carefully crafted, anal-retentive plan to make the outside believe that we were the epitome of normalcy. I was cruel to an extent that thoroughly shames me, but hasn't entirely left me. There were jobs and houses lost, careers and educational paths abandoned, cars totaled, and so many more things. My particular brand of pleasure: numbness. Emotions overwhelm me. They can be painful and unpleasant. I don't like unpleasant sensations. Being a hedonist to the extreme, I seek pleasure. My flavors of pleasure vary and include a wide variety of experiences that some may consider painful, but pain brings numbness, too. In fact, all things in excess eventually create numb. Numb is, in my brain, the ultimate pleasure -- the complete absence of sensation. And, I can make it happen via most roads.

You can, in fact, eat until you are numb. I've proven this. I've eaten in a pattern that can be described as nothing short of a frenzy until I was blissfully empty and absent, unaware of my surroundings, or operating in such a foggy state, that my behaviors were automatic and dead. This is the state of oblivion that I desire above all else. And, the roads to this state are so many -- lust, shopping, relationships, exercise, knowledge, exhaustion, reading, fantasy, spirituality, drugs & alcohol. Oh, yes. Positive things, in excess, are not positive anymore. Restricting your diet to the point of starvation is not healthy. Exercising to the point of physical injury is clearly misguided. Reading for days, devoid of sleep or food, is specious at best. Avoiding sleep for any cause for 72 or more hours is unquestionably unsound. Working incessantly, beyond the level of reward or incentive, is truly foolish. But, I am guilty of all of these.

And, it always, always begins with the craving. Something in my brain tells me that I am in a state that is unpleasant -- boredom, anxiety, discomfort, stress -- and that tiny inkling of craving begins. Its like an itch that is in the one place that you cannot reach, cannot describe, and no amount of pretzeling your body makes it accessible.

And, it gnaws at you, like a little mouse in the corner of your belly, or the soft part of your brain. It gnaws. And, it keeps gnawing. It never sleeps. It moves and scurries and stirs and bites, and you bleed. One little mouse begets more little mice. They spread from one end of your body to the next.

Eventually, the hole becomes so large that the pain is intolerable. You can no longer bear the blood loss. You're anemic with it. Your head begins to spin. You're dizzy and unable to focus. You can think of nothing but the pain, the craving. The sensation of panic begins to spread through your nervous system as if you were confronted by a hungry lion.

And, with the panic, comes the shame. You should be able to manage this. You should be stronger. You're throwing all of your hard work away. How dare you squander what you have? Why would you do this, again? And, all the while, the little mice chew and chew and chew and chew until the pressure becomes so unmanageable that you do the thing you know will make it go away.

You do it and do it and do it until bliss comes and goes and emptiness follows. And, there you sit, devoid of any human expression. And, you are happy, for about a moment.

Then, the shame comes, anew. And it spreads. And the little mouse wakes up, where its hidden in its little corner.

And, the whole thing begins again.

The Valuing of Human Experience

I was sitting in a day-long training on Friday and a concept that had been floating around the periphery of my brain suddenly fell into clear relief. But, let me go back a bit:

The training was for lay persons on how to recognize and respond to suicidal ideation, depression, anxiety, and (in a very limited way) addiction. I expected to be thoroughly bored, having been trained and educated countless times on these same basic concepts; and teaching most of them in my own classroom.

Instead, I was quite engaged. The two gentlemen who conducted the training were dynamic and interesting speakers.** But, more than that, as a connected concept often does, it triggered some existing ideas to gather and gel.

It has always been my belief that, as a culture, Americans have an odd way of looking at things --

• if you cry, you're weak
• it is your responsibility to pull yourself up 'by the bootstraps' and move forward
• people with addiction, anxiety, or depression CHOOSE to be that way; if they just got up and DID something, they'd be fine, because its not really a disease
• the strong survive while the weak do (and should) perish
• people who are victims are somehow responsible for their victimization

I inwardly cringe every time I see those awful Facebook memes that tell you to just 'keep going' as if your experience means nothing. They say that you must become a 'survivor' instead of a 'victim,' 'powerful' instead of 'empowered.' Why? In our society, we blame the victim and glamorize the perpetrator. It is more important to be powerful than to be kind. Again, I ask why?

And, I realized, in a short moment that this has all come about because we grossly devalue our present, human experience. We're taught to live so thoroughly in the world of the future, planning for and moving toward imagined and yet unimagined goals, always ten (or two hundred) steps ahead; that we've become completely detached from our own experience. When we're victimized, injured, or otherwise hurt, we race to call ourselves 'survivors' by transcending this experience, distracting ourselves, and disregarding it. Why? 

EVERY experience forms us as people. We aren't formed only by those experiences by which we were successful, or those which are pleasurable. Research does, in fact, indicate that we are more highly impacted by those things that are challenging. Our society, as a course of its future-orientation, has created a world in which any and all life transitions are seen as merely inconsequential steps on the rung of the ladder which always climbs into the sky, beyond our sight, until the day of our death. 

Don't misunderstand. In no way do I suggest that we have no goals in life. Goals give us direction and allow us to determine our current behavior and path. Goals can be good. But, we aren't all goals. Our conscious cannot constantly live in the future and allow us to be healthy and well. When we devalue our current experience, several things happen:

• we will repeat the same errors because we've failed to learn the lessons associated with them, therefore, plunging headlong into the abyss, time and time again. (If you disagree with me on this, I'll show you any person who cannot maintain a job, relationship, etc...If we look closely, there will be common patterns and themes in their lives that impact them, repeatedly, and unconsciously, always undermining their progress without their awareness.)
• we will have a consistent sense of discontent, discomfort, and inferiority, because we've not taken the time to celebrate and grieve the transitional parts of life -- all transitions hold both positive and negative aspects which deserve equal attention
• as a society, we will behave in ways that demonstrate a lack of compassion, because our belief is that we must move continually forward without rest; that those who do rest are weak, foolish, or without value and should be left behind, labeled as 'lazy' and undeserving
• we will glamorize aspects of human behavior that we also punish (ie: violence, drug dealing, sexual deviance, etc.)

These things are so prevalent in our society and cultural norms that I'm saddened by them. I advocate for the following alternative:

• celebrate and grieve all life transitions, no matter how small. Take note of the inherent difficulty in moving from one expectation to the next. Find a circle of people to do this with you. There are lovely, but relatively unknown, movements in society who are trying to recapture this. The Red Tent leaps to mind. 
• try to be 'in the moment' whenever possible. Honor and recognize your own experience in this life. You are valuable. Feel what is. Allow yourself permission to process what is happening. 
• Educate and explain to others what you are aiming to do, so that they may critically consider this approach. 

But, most of all, live in a way that allows you to feel whole, complete, and present. Isn't that the point of it all? I will not race for the future so that my present is nothing but a blur. I will live where I am, a resident of my own mind, body, emotion, and soul, in the moment in which I stand. 

Blessed Be. 

**Please check out their organization. It is a worthy and valuable cause. If you need a seminar done on any of their topics, I would recommend them. 

Sea Hag

Mythos and the elements have been extremely heavy on my mind, lately. And, I've only really wanted to paint aspects of the elements which exist in popular myth. The canvas, this time, gathers the Sea Hag...

Sea Hag stories range from the Old World to the New...New Haven, CT, in fact, has quite a local history of their own sea hag. For them, the hag is a spectre that draws unsuspecting sailors to their death, pretending to be a damsel in distress upon the rocks. When the ships draw in to save her, they perish upon the jetty. 

The Celtic deity, the Morrighan, was said to appear as a crone, washing clothes in the river. The clothes she was washing would be those of the soldier about to die in battle. 

The Welsh had the Muilerteach, or the water hag. She was, in this persona, the goddess of the sea, but -- more so -- a personification of the sea, itself. Scottish mariners were quite frightened of her and often made sacrifices of their catch as tribute. 

And, of course, we know the stories of the Greek Sirens -- creatures with beautiful voices, who appeared to be stunning women, but were actually man-eating beasts. 

And, how could we leave out the Mermaid -- half fish, half woman. The sea creature who is often portrayed in art as beautiful and pale skinned. Unlikely. We all know what happens to our fingers and toes when we stay in the bath too long! I suspect the mermaid would be far more like a translucent ethereal being than a woman, but who am I to guess?

What does all of this tell me about my pondering and swiping of the brush on the canvas -- another side to water has become awakened for me. The dangerous side. The deadly side. The ancient side. Water holds the last truly unexplored place on our planet in its depths. The utter truth is that we do not know what it hides in the places we cannot go. 

The femme fatale lives in the depths -- a woman untamed, purely instinctual, entirely elemental, incredibly self-sustaining, dangerous, capable -- a FORCE of nature. This is what the Sea Hag represents for me. This beautiful, fearsome creature that does as she wills, with no regard. She is a part of me.

My Own Misery

Its a sobering moment to realize:

As an adult (without exception), every single time I experienced misery in my life, it was the result of a very few situations:

1. My own making (IE: I would do things that inadvertently set up difficult situations for myself. Common cliches: Slashing Peter to benefit Paul. I don't have a choice.). For instance, I would sabotage opportunities. When I had a new job, I would select unreliable people to babysit, ensuring that I'd miss time from work. Before people start doing that thing, "Well I only have so many options" blah, blah -- that's just not true. I had unlimited options. I wanted to not pay the money for a licensed day care, so I paid other people (family members, really) to watch the kids. I made my own problems through my choices. 

2. The inability to get out of my own way (IE: Doing the same things that have never brought desired results, but continuing to do them anyway. Lots of colloquialisms apply here: Its the way I've ALWAYS done it. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. Can't see the forest for the trees.). I don't keep it a secret that I'm a person in recovery. I cannot begin to tell you how many times I drank too much at a work function, the night before an important event, or to manage anxiety over some perceived deficit. 

3. My own perceptions (IE: Blaming people, circumstances, or anything outside of myself for my experience. Applicable platitude: Its all YOUR fault. The whole world's against me. I've got no luck.). Every time that I've thrown my hands up in the air in my life and cried about not being able to catch a break, it was my own perceptions that created obstacles. I was having a bad day because the coffee maker was broken, the alarm clock didn't go off, or that jerk cut me off on the way to work. 

Fortunately, I know (today) that none of these things are valid. I make every choice in my life. If I make a bad one, I'm responsible for the results and consequences. If I recognize that my way isn't the only way, I can seek other's advice and counsel when I can't see my way out of a situation, or I cannot come up with a solution. If I practice personal accountability, I know that I'm responsible for my own perceptions, values, feelings, thoughts, and behaviors. I can CHOOSE how I want to react in every circumstance. Sometimes, things break or don't work, and other people do things that affect me. I can always choose how and whether I internalize that event. Therefore, I can decide how I allow it to affect me. 

I am no victim. I am a powerful being who can direct my own life. Sometimes, things will happen TO me; but, how I respond is 100% my decision.