Be the Change

As a child growing up in the 50's and 60's, we were taught to fear Communism. If the USA became a Communist state, we faced many atrocities and loss of freedom. There were news clips of the masses standing in breadlines, living in small assigned apartments with people they didn't know. Personal property was seized and owned by the government. Congregating and speaking your mind was unlawful. Authors were denied the right to publish in their own country if they disagreed with government officials. Expression of religious beliefs was seen as a form of protest by the working classes against their poor economic conditions and their alienation as citizens.

I'm not a child anymore and I certainly see the world differently. I grew up believing that I lived in the greatest country in the world. In America we were free. We could peacefully protest against the government; walking the streets in-mass to right what we considered the wrongs against our society and it's people. Vietnam, the march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama. All races, religions and creeds came together and told the government and the people of this country that things must change.
Were some of us arrested? most definitely. Were there radicals among us that took extreme measures to make their point? yes there were. And there was the tragedy of death in some cases.

As I watch what is happening in this country today, I am sickened. Once again we are living in fear; not beyond our borders, but right here. It is not the Muslims, African-Americans, LGBTQ I am concerned about, it is the lack of freedom and choice. It is my life being sold to the highest bidder who sponsors a seat in Congress and determines who will be the President. Voting is no longer about the choices of the population but who has the most power provided by corporations in the form of millions of dollars. I just read this morning that the average costs to  campaign for president can run anywhere from $700 million to $1 billion.

We are no longer free to assemble peacefully; no longer free to stand up in public and challenge or disagree for fear of being physically assaulted. I watched as security guards threw a woman to the floor for asking a question that challenged the speaker; people beaten and killed for the color of their skin; women called horrific names just because they're women. The physically challenged taunted and ridiculed. What happened to our representatives doing what they were elected to do?: representing ALL the people. We have been sold to the highest bidder and we have allowed it to happen.

How many of us sit around our kitchen tables and moan about the state of the country? How many of us don't vote because it doesn't matter? How many of us post on Facebook or Twitter and do nothing else? How many of us automatically believe every word uttered by a newscaster? How many of us stand up, without fear and say enough? As long as we are convinced we should be afraid of massive groups of people, people we do not understand, they win.

Where do we begin? First, We the People must, and I mean must, stop dividing ourselves by those factors that make us different. Black, white, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, male, female and start seeing each other as one. We consistently label someone, other than white men, when they accomplish something. "The first black man" "the first woman" and on and on. Why is that important? Second...Because we are told it is. The news has become a great story of fiction and should be played out on the Broadway stage. How many of us check the facts before we jump on the bandwagon? Third...we stop living in fear of everything we do not understand. I am most tired of every time there is a racial issue with President Obama, someone posts a video of a black person complaining about him or his family. Every time a white police officer shoots a black man or woman, someone posts a video of a white cop playing with black children. Do you all think we're stupid? I am fully aware that there are good police officers in this country and I am happy to say that they out number the bad ones. Most of us are fully aware that there are millions of black people who are just as good. There are billions of Muslim people in the world who live in Peace, but we forget about them because we're told they're all terrorists. All Hispanic people are certainly not what they have been labeled. They are workers, mothers. fathers, students and most importantly Americans.

We were all born and we will all die. We all bleed when cut and we all experience pain and grief. We all love.

So where do we start? We hold people accountable. If a police officer murders someone, other police officers must hold him or her accountable. If a judge tells a rape victim she should have kept her knees together, why are we as a society not screaming in outrage? Is this answer more violence? All violence does is create a never ending cycle of more violence. Also, and this is most important, before we post on Facebook or Tweet anything, we verify the validity of the words. And mostly, we do not tolerate racism and bigotry.

I am a 68 year old American and I work every day to earn a living and pay my bills. If I repeatedly did not show up or do the job I was hired to do, I would be fired. If I used  company money to travel or pay my mortgage, I would be arrested and convicted of a crime. And yet, we allow those who were elected to lead us, protect us, all of us, to do as they will and sit at our kitchen tables and whine about our lot in life.

Okay, I should probably end this and as I do so, I have a quote by William H. Johnsten I would like to share with all of you. "If it is to be it is up to me". 10 little words that could change our world.

Anger Management

We have all been there whether we want to admit it or not, everyone of us has been and most assuredly will be again...ANGRY. There will always be something or someone to push just the right button and send us into that state of mental lapse where we are over the edge. For me, most of the time, it is about something I have no control over.

We all have opinions, in fact there is a well known statement attesting to that fact; and we all have the right and the privilege to voice them. When it really matters, we also have the responsibility to stand up in the face of our own convictions. If we truly believe what we stand for, what is important to us as individuals, then let it be said, no matter who agrees or doesn't. Right? One would think so.

I recently felt the urge, the need to express my opinion on something that I considered a minor thing. It wasn't about being right or wrong, it was just a discussion over the use of a simple word. The context of this conversation is irrelevant, however, the outcome pushed the wrong button in me. The situation went from being a simple difference of opinion to a major thing involving other's who had, of course, their own opinions. As an outsider, one may say this is silly really. Why would this make you so angry? Great question and it made me angrier than I have been in a while.

I have learned a lot in these 65 years and I am pretty good at reading people; much better now at reading myself. It all comes down to intentions and reactions. My intention in stating my choice of wording on a subject caused someone to react defensively and take my statement as a vote of "no confidence" in them, of negating their say and ideas. Their response came across to me as egotistical and abusive of my feelings. I felt I was now being instructed as to how I should behave and speak as in days gone by. It was made clear that the opinion of this person was all that counted and should not be questioned. They had a right to their say and the rest of us be damned. Overly sensitive on both parts? I'm not ready to go there. Of course I am right in my anger. Someone negated my importance by making themselves more so.

As mentioned, being 65 has taught me much and it isn't about age. It is simply how I feel about who I am and why someone negating my feelings is being allowed to matter. There is a saying: is it better to be right or to be close? That's a tough one in the moment.

The ego is a sensitive thing and mine has caused me problems in the past and will most likely cause me more in the future. Anger is a fact of life and for some of us with a history of not being important, of not being heard or taken seriously, it can bruise that ego until "seeing red" is all there is left.
So in this situation, I have made the choice to be angry. Will I get over it? Most assuredly. I accept responsibility for allowing another to take away my power and I still like my word more. Call it what you will: stubborn, pig-headed and so on. Or simply, in this space, it is more important to be right about how this situation made me feel, work on that and worry about being close another time.

Peace to you all.

Use Your Words With Compassion in Your Heart

 

It has been written in many mediums that it is easier to build a child up then it is to fix an adult.

Words can do both. The words we use every day, mostly without a lot of thought, can build someone’s self-esteem or devastate to the core of their being. It is a simple case of listening and feeling the effects of what we say.

I have never been a confident person. Words directed at me as a young child and into adulthood made such a negative impression, that believing them as true was easier than not. Fat, ugly, useless and stupid, that was me. Never knew what I was talking about, was a huge expense to my family, cost a fortune to feed and clothe, and on and on. Never ending slurs and insults.

So in true fashion, I not only used those words to describe myself, an attitude stronger than those words was how I lived. I thought ugly, so I became ugly. I would always be fat, so I could eat everything. Useless for sure. Living those words every day.

And then I had a daughter. A beautiful baby girl that grew into a beautiful child and eventually an even more beautiful woman. I took such care to ensure that she knew how beautiful and smart she was. Never would I allow anyone to speak negative words to her or tell her anything that would make her feel unworthy or just plain bad about herself. I praised her every thought, every action; told her she was so much better than me. Prettier, smarter and of course insulted my looks and abilities at the same time. People would say, “She looks just like you” and those words would stab into the very core of my being. No, no, she was so much better, so much more than I could ever be. And I made sure she knew that was how I felt. I was building her up by putting myself down. Or so I thought.

Never did the thought occur to me that because she did look just like me, my insults about myself were devastating to her. The more I voiced my struggles on accepting myself as is, of loving me enough to love her enough, the less she came to think of herself. In my own way I was being cruel and abusive, all the while believing my actions and attitudes would only help her accept herself. The most frightening thing was how her life became a duplicate of mine. She searched for love and the acceptance that she was enough, paralleling my life choices in ways I never wanted for her.

Learning to listen with my heart, the understanding of what I created for that child has come full circle. Her life could not be based on my pain nor could it pattern my expectations for her.  She always calls me on my stuff and holds me responsible for what I say and do. She is now a strong, confident woman with her own daughter. She does not hide behind the belief that she is not enough, that she is anything but capable. And I am proud to be her mother.

Words can become attitudes that are passed on. They can build confidence or they can destroy. It is easier to build a child up, than repair an adult. Think and feel before you speak.

 

Namaste’

 

 

 

 

 

Where Did You Go?

Where Did You Go?

A child’s expression of grief.

 

Where did you go,

I don’t understand

You were just here

Holding my hand.

 

Where did you go,

I want you with me

Everyone is sad

How can this be?

 

Where did you go,

I feel all alone

Please hear me now

Please come home.

 

I am too small

To go on without you

You always cared

Now what do I do?

 

They say you are watching

From up above

And you will always

Give me your love.

 

I will try to be brave

Like I have been told

It will be harder

Without you to hold.

 

Where did you go

I don’t understand

I want you back to

Just hold my hand.

 

F. I. N. E.

We live in a world where everyone is posting and tweeting the positive. Do it myself, and it is a good thing. Being positive brightens your day and lightens your heart. Reading affirmations, especially during an attack of the blues, can change your whole day. So what happens when they don't work? I suggest we cover up the clouds with the F. I. N. E. syndrome that each and every one of us use as a shield. You can be wallowing in the worst of the worst emotions and if someone asks "How are you?" the answer is usually fine. Can't let anyone know we are having a bad day or we are feeling down about something because face it, we all have something to be grateful for, right? Start with the big one, we woke up. Must be grateful.

What happens when you are grateful you woke up and you are in pain , or you just don't feel like being happy. Your choice. Happiness, like anything else in life is simply that, a choice. We may not say the words and then maybe some do. "Today, I choose to be happy, or sad or angry". Nothing wrong with that because it is your choice. So, why do we hide it? Can't burden my family and friends with my mood; they're happy so I have to be too. So I will hide behind that little 4 letter word. I am fine. I will slap on a smile, phony as hell, and tell the world everything is okay.

Many years ago, I learned to break those 4 letters into a little phrase (I apologize in advance for bruising your sensibilities) that goes something like this:

Fucked up
Insecure
Neurotic
Emotional

I suggest, that on any given day, one or all of those words have meaning in our lives and yet we hide behind a wall of daisies, thinking that we are all alone and the rest of the world is thrilled to be alive. Doesn't it say that on Facebook or Twitter? Stay Calm and Smile, Life is Good and my all time favorite Someone Else Has it Harder or Worse. I can guarantee you someone in this world, in your neighborhood for that matter, has it worse than you do. It doesn't change your circumstances.

This writing is the result of watching a video posted by my very good friend Dee Wishart.

 

Instructions For A Bad Day

 

I love that they use the word "inevitable". We all have them, each and every one of us, and we all deal with them in our own way, as we should. What is so wrong with someone just simply saying "I am having a bad day". If there is no one to hear those words, say them to the mirror, write them down or journal your feelings through whatever medium works for you. Call your best friend or simply get comfortable and feel...it really is okay. Cry, laugh, read, watch a sad movie or even a happy one. My whole point is...don't hide it. Don't stuff it down into the pit of your gut until you feel sick from storing all those emotions, just to fit in. Emotions are to be expressed, no matter what they look like and trust me when I say, everyone has every emotion. I remember telling a friend once that I didn't get angry and the truth of the matter was: I was always angry. It was so bottled up, that releasing it was frightening. Many years of training taught me that my anger was not acceptable behavior, I didn't deserve to be angry, I had no reason to be angry. So I, like so many of us, became F. I. N. E. It was safer to live in that pretend world of "all is well" and not rock that boat everyone talks about.

 

I hope you watch the film. It made a profound difference in my life. Have a great day my friends. Be open and honest with yourself and live in peace. You deserve it.

Another New Year...So What Has Changed?

The tradition of New Year's Resolutions. The ritual of projecting our goals based on a date on the calendar; a let's start over because it is the first day of the first month of a new year. Today is the third day of that new month in the new year and many of those resolutions have already been broken. Is it safe to say that placing those expectations on ourselves, closing us into a box that we created to make changes we could have made on the twentieth or the seventeenth, will not continue to serve us because they hold no relevance to the choices we make everyday? And even more importantly, the reasons we make the choices we do. The sale of exercise equipment, diet plans, vitamins and health products increases every January throughout the world because millions make the resolution to get healthy, lose weight. Great choices, as we should all strive to be healthy because it is what we deserve.

I use weight as an example because mine has been a struggle and a challenge all my life. My father was abusive, I cried, my mother took me for ice cream. A serious pattern developed into an even more serious habit that became my identity. My weight was the bane of my existence and a source of burden for my parents. Doctors were consulted, drugs administered. As many as 14 pills a day , plus hormone injections, which turned to addiction at the age of 12. Skinny 12 year old drug addict that regained all the weight within 10 months of stopping the drugs. I was even sent to finishing school, which is the biggest joke of my history. I know how to set a killer formal dinner table in case anyone cares and at graduation, during photos, my father's only comment was all the money had been spent on this school and now there wasn't any left to fix my face.

So what is the point of this? All the resolutions in the world would not repair the damage that had been done to that little girl. Until the choices were made by me to let all that go and be the healthiest happiest me, Weight Watchers and Adkins didn't stand a chance nor did the date on the calendar. The depth of the pain and the scars created by that life were being stuffed down, painted over with a guarantee of resurfacing without notice. The lack of self worth was so deep and the history of fixing it with ice cream was such a habit, that the sky could have fallen at midnight December 31st and no resolution would make a difference. It has been said that all the compliments in the world cannot erase the insults and the pain. Until one's own belief system is strong enough to sustain a healthy inner peace; strong enough to embrace and nurtured that injured child, all the praise in the world falls on a deaf heart.

I truly believe that as we grow older, grow up shall we say, the responsibility of who we are and the happiness we feel is ours alone. It is imperative in the most important relationship we have, the one with ourselves and that little child, to find a peace, a happiness that allows us to live healthy and with a genuine sense of acceptance. There are still times when the demons return and there probably always will be.

I recently joined a group of women on Facebook titled "The Documented Life Project".  The goals are to create an art journal of our year, using specific assignments. My first attempt at a cover was in my mind a total disaster and embarrassment as drawing has never been a form of expression I used and for obvious reasons. As we can all assume from this writing, perfection is always my goal and when I started comparing myself to the amazing displays of the other participants, my black and white portrait of a woman was in my minds eye so lacking in artistic style and quality, that of course quitting became the only option. Dropping out of this group to save face and not let anyone get too close or discover the secrets. After posting my intentions, the gifts came so fast and with such love and caring that all I could do was cry. Here is what I had asked for. A group of supporters that would allow me to support in kind. The response, the realization that there are so many little girls out there, all over the world, who don't think they are good enough hit me like an arrow straight to my heart. I could feel their pain while I was feeling my own healing.

So, 24 hours and a lot of searching and listening (my word for 2014) I have discovered that this is my art. My true expression of myself and that little girl. It doesn't have to look like another expression because then it wouldn't be mine. So my new found friends, here is my door.

Don't Stand to Close to Me

At this time of year, the chore I dislike the most is shopping. Actually, I don't like shopping at all, it is just worse for me at this time of year because there are so many people. I am not at all comfortable in crowds and have been known to suffer panic attacks if people press to close or bump into me. I am sure there is some deep psychological explanation for this phobia; one I really don't feel compelled to explore.

More serious issues arise when these reactions surface on an emotional level. When people get to close to our feelings, when we fear someone can see beyond whatever façade we are putting on display. I have a very good friend who I speak with very openly about almost everything. Our conversations are varied and for the most part, I do believe, honest expressions of how we are feeling. And then it happens, we drift a little, not communicating as often and on a more superficial level when we do talk. My heart knows there is nothing I can't tell her and sure hope she feels the same way about me. I trust this person with everything I have. So what happens? What is the fear and is it imagined or is it real? Are there just times when we step back? Is this a sub-conscious reaction, a way of protecting ourselves from being seen?

Yesterday, I freaked. Actually, this turmoil began two days ago and should have been recognized when I started cleaning every square inch of my house like the Queen was coming for a visit. That was a huge sign of something more developing. While cleaning closets, toilets and scrubbing floors, the brain has a lot of quiet time to start imagining all sorts of scenarios. And through all this turmoil comes a bolt of lightening so powerful it all but knocks me off my feet. I am living a lie and so afraid someone will catch on.

A lot of my time is spent posting heart-felt sayings on Facebook, written for the most part by someone else, about happiness and gratitude and faith in myself, when in all actuality I am not any of those things most of the time. In reality, I have disappointed myself and probably others. I talk a good talk and am very supportive of my friends. As long as they don't stand to close to me. As long as no one sees the real pain, the loneliness, the heartbreak. I miss my friends on a physical level, not seeing them for very long periods of time and cancel plans that we make because and this is where I stumble, because I don't know the answer on a conscious level. When I am with friends, I feel separated and different. The little girl that was on the outside looking in at the party.

So as I sit here at my dining room table, pounding my heart out on this laptop and crying like a baby, in all honesty, I don't know what it is I want. This composition started as a light hearted expose and has turned into a heart wrenching experience, one I feel compelled to share without knowing why.

In peace.