A Different Season

This is usually my favorite time of year, and I'm working on it. I think of where I was just a year ago, and I don't even feel like the same person. Last year at this time, I had no idea that I would be moving, that the year would bring so much strife and loss. But I'm still standing, as I always do. We can never really know what's coming down the pike; life does what it does despite how well we plan. And I DO plan. I'm not a huge fan of surprises unless they are really good ones, but it is what it is. I learned a lot this year.

I learned that the people you love and trust can turn on you in a second if they don't get what they want from you. I learned that people can think they know everything they need to know about your situation, without ever talking to you, based on nothing more than the word of someone who's trying to hurt you. Okay, that was hard. But I also learned how to recognize who I am, independent of somebody else's flawed characterization, how to finally stand up for myself, to say "No more", and to accept that people don't always make sense. I also learned that I have a lot of friends, a LOT of support, and that I'm okay and surrounded by love. Nothing is more valuable than that. I may not have learned that otherwise, or maybe I wouldn't have been so aware of the blessing that it is. It's all good.

Moving wasn't something we planned. If you had asked me last year, I would have said "No way". The idea was completely overwhelming. The nasty dog down the hall was the catalyst, and as unpleasant as that situation was, it compelled a change. The move was awful (though the help of friends made it less so). Planning the move was awful. Packing and cleaning sucked. It WAS overwhelming, the timing was financially terrible, and all the last-minute complications around logistics were a nightmare. But we're here. We're glad we're here. My daughter and I are both still kind of marveling at how awesome our new space is, and so, no regrets. Just more gratitude.

I didn't know I would lose Murphy this year. I suspected I might, but he was such a big, solid guy, such a presence in my life, that he felt kind of immortal, I guess. I knew when he turned 12 that every day was a gift. I knew it on a logical level. But even when you know, it's impossible to prepare. Of all the major changes that occurred this year, this was by-far the toughest. But I'm still standing. I'm still planning. I'm fighting like hell to find my equilibrium, but I know that I will. It's the first time in 25 years that I haven't had a dog (my daughter does, but I don't!) It's kind of weird. I pretty much come and go whenever, and I don't really know how to handle that. I hurt too much to get a new dog right now, but I have a plan. I'm sort of going with the flow on that one I guess. I'll know when I'm ready.

As the year wraps up and I sit here drinking my same coffee but looking on an entirely different (and much nicer) view, I feel how lucky I am to have managed each of those hurdles, only to discover a new opportunity or something better on the other side. Okay, I can't really say that about losing Murph, but otherwise it's true. I've always known it to be true. Sometimes the most terrifying and/or difficult experiences can lead to the most unexpected and amazing things. I'm keeping that in mind as it applies to all areas of life right now. I'm looking forward to Halloween (always! Spooky season is my 'thing'!), and it looks like Christmas might be pretty cool, too. Thanksgiving is still up in the air, but we'll figure it out. My daughter and I have done it alone before, and it was still an awesome day.

I feel like my world has been turned upside down and inside out, but I landed on my feet. I feel like there are surprises yet on the horizon, but I suspect that they will be good ones. I wish you all the same <3

For Murphy

It's been a week today. This evening, actually, if I want to be picky. It feels like yesterday, and it feels like last year. Either way, I'm sitting here drinking coffee, and picking a scab on a wound that's already trying to heal. I owe him that much. I owe him much more, but it's a debt I can never repay. Murphy was the center of my universe for 12 years, and now he's gone. I feel like a piece of my soul died with him. I know that more than a few of you understand completely. You are the people who have kept me afloat this week, and I love you for it. We are not casual pet owners, but dog (and cat) people. Many of us have built our lives around our animals in one way or another, and have devoted a great deal of time and attention to our understanding of them and our care of them. We get it.

I can't speak for everybody, but for me, I've often been closer to the animals in my life than the people. They are more honest; they "say" exactly what they mean. They aren't afraid to share their affection for you or to ask for what they want or need. They aren't afraid to give, either, and do so tirelessly. I've always been around animals, from the time I was very little. It's a central part of who I am. Now, for the first time in 26 years, I just have me to worry about. I'm not happy about it. For 26 years I've had a baby to take care of, then a kid and dogs, then a kid and dogs and horses, then a kid and dogs again, and then, for the last few years, just my dog needed me. Murphy has seen me through the loss of two other dogs, having to get out of horses for financial reasons, a horrific relationship, quitting smoking, a major move, my daughter's teen years, and finally my daughter's adulthood and independence. That's a hefty chunk of my life. He was my rock, the thing that kept me anchored no matter who came and went and no matter what else was going on. He provided that consistent companionship, and caring for him was a steadying influence on me. So now, folks talk to me about freedom, but it feels like anything but. My dog friends get it: "Use this time between dogs to your advantage" is the message. That I get. But freedom isn't the right word. It's more of a Janice Joplin/Bobby McGee kind of freedom, the line in the song that says "Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose". For me, it's not freedom, but a shallow kind of emptiness; meaningless days stretched out in front of me without purpose. I know that it will sound odd coming from somebody who is probably the most awkward, reclusive person on the planet, but it's connections that give life meaning. Everything else is secondary. And my powerful connection to animals has always been central to my existence.  

Murphy taught me a lot about dogs and myself, too. He was "that" dog. The one that humbles you, that knocks you out of your comfortable ideology and expands your way of thinking. He's the one that gives you a choice: Change your ingrained assumptions, or fail. He was attacked by an off-leash dog when we first moved into town, and it was the beginning of a very trying two years of rehab. When you live in a situation where you literally cease to have any control over outside circumstances the moment you step out your door, it changes a lot about how you can and can't handle things. Endless advice from folks who's entire protocol is dependent on controlling any and all outside influences becomes entirely useless. Add the layer of blame that inevitably comes with failure (despite impossible circumstance) and you have a formula for all manner of bad. I wish more trainers understood that. But being in that situation creates priorities: Keep my dog safe, keep me safe, keep others safe, and do the best we can. I read on a web board somewhere that a woman was upset that she was being sued by a neighbor because her 80 pound German Shepherd bit a child. She thought it wasn't her fault "because you can't expect a small woman to be able to hang on to an 80 pound German Shepherd". You're damned right you can, and that absolutely IS the expectation. I was never going to be *that* person. Moving to town made me all too aware of the crappy boundaries people have when it comes to dogs, and it made Murphy's rehab take much longer than it otherwise would have. It also meant I was very aware of my responsibility to control my own dog, since nobody else was.  Our safety meant I used a prong collar on Murphy to mitigate the strength differential. I lost friends over it (no, seriously) but Murphy's needs and Murphy's success were my priorities, not bending to ideologies of others. It was the first time I lost friends for putting my dog first. So be it.

I've known Murphy his whole life. I loved his parents and his grandparents, and he himself was loved before he was even born. People gave me grief because he wasn't a rescue. But he was born to be healthy and strong, and to have a great temperament. There are never any guarantees with living beings, but by being careful and conscientious, you can stack the deck in your favor. So we did. I heard about how unhealthy Dobermans were supposed to be, how unstable their temperaments were. But I knew better. Murphy lived to be 12 years old without ever having a breed-related issue. He got his CGC when he was a cheeky, nine-month-old puppy. He never bit anybody. He never snapped at children. In a world of good boys, he was the best. I made sure to tell him that every day. I can look back on Murphy's life without regrets. He ate fresh food and had a healthy diet that was carefully researched and balanced just for him. He had a lot of training, which for him was fun, one-on-one time. He knew everything, and a trained dog is a free dog. He used to go hiking with me. He ran around Shelburne farms with me, off leash. He traveled with me. He hated water, he didn't swim, and he didn't like the beaches here in Vermont. He LOVED to run on the soft, white sand on the beaches in Florida though, and he had opportunity to do just that. We played fetch at the park until we were both ready to drop (and sometimes Murphy would be left covered in mud!), and we would go snow shoeing. Sometimes, Murphy would jump on the back of my snowshoes to get out of the deep snow (he was no fool!), and I would do a (not) graceful face-plant. Only if there were people around to see it, though. We had a couple of memorable (and public) moments involving ice and squirrels, too. Murphy had a sense of humor, for sure. But I always made sure that he had plenty to do, and plenty of time to rest as well. When he started to slow down, we adjusted. I let him choose the pace. He spent hot, muggy summer afternoons snoozing in air-conditioned comfort. We changed his diet to accommodate his changing needs. As his ability to exercise diminished, his toys, games and treats became more important. We made sure he had plenty of all. He was walked everyday, brushed everyday, and had his teeth brushed everyday. Every morning, I told him he was beautiful. Every night, I told him that I loved him before we fell asleep. When folks ask "would you have done anything different if you had known it was his last day?" I can truthfully answer "no". I cared everyday. Every single one. Murphy wasn't a rescue dog, but he was a healthy dog who never knew a single day of fear, of loneliness, of being unloved. If I had a one wish for dogs, it would be that they all could be so fortunate. I think it's as important to support people who actively promote that ideal as it is to support rescue. The point is the well-being of the animals, always.

I saw it coming, but I didn't. Some of you know what I mean. Murphy was a 100 pound, 12 year-old Doberman. The fact that he existed was kind of miraculous, and I knew that every day with him was a gift. His well-being was prioritized right up to the end of his life. When an aggressive dog moved in down the hall from us and kept going after Murphy (twice very memorably, and requiring animal deterrent), we decided to move. We tried everything else first because we had lived in our home for 10 years, but it became clear that nothing was going to be done and we didn't really have a choice. It took weeks to prepare, and a grueling few days to execute, but we did it. Murphy was safe, and our new place an upgrade from where we were. It took a couple of days to settle in, to unpack, to put up shelves. And finally, last Wednesday, I woke up knowing we were done, and I was in total celebration mode. I was messaging a friend to that end and getting ready to pour myself a glass of wine when I saw that something was really wrong with Murphy. He couldn't get up. Over the last few months I had noticed some potential spinal degeneration, and he had vet appointment scheduled. But even that very day, everything was normal. He went for his walks, he ate his meals, just like any other day. And then suddenly, he lost the ability to use his hind end. My daughter's boyfriend was here, and the two of us tried to lift Murphy, to help him to his feet. Murphy couldn't stand at all. My daughter came home, and I called Tommy. Tommy was a boyfriend for ten years, a friend for even longer and the owner of Murphy's parents. He helped deliver Murphy into the world, and handed him over to me instead of insisting we sell him for some real money. He's always been an "animal first" kinda guy. His heart was as broken as mine. Tommy and Taylor (my daughter) carried Murphy, on his bed, to the back of my station wagon. We drove to the emergency vet. They put him on a stretcher, and laid him and his bed on the floor of a room. Taylor stayed on the floor with Murphy from the moment we arrived. We were all there. Taylor, Matt (my daughter's boyfriend), Tommy, and my dear friend Debbie even showed up, too. He was a very popular pinscher. Tommy and I knew the prognosis wasn't great from the moment we saw that Murphy couldn't stand up. The vet confirmed it. No matter how much money we spent or how much we did, there was no good outcome.

I don't remember much beyond that. It's funny how our minds work. I remember my daughter losing it because it's so odd for her. I remember saying goodbye to my best friend at 9:45. I remember my dear friends being there. I remember crying hysterically on Tommy's shoulder. I remember waking up in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by familiar things, but with someone important missing. I never did have that glass of wine. I know it sounds odd, but it still hurts too much to drink. It's been a week. One week. I still feel oddly disconnected from everything. I went for a walk in my old area just for some grounding and familiarity, but all I did was cry. Maybe I needed to. I might for awhile. I know how this goes. I have the Chase Away 5K this Sunday, and my daughter and I will be there. I feel like every step forward that I take is a good one. My friends are amazing people. The support and kind words have meant everything. I don't say that casually or lightly. I love you guys, more than you can ever know. And now, there's nowhere to go but forward. I'll take Murphy with me, always in my heart, always a part of me, wherever I go. I'll love you forever, big guy.

Fortysomething

My birthday comes around at a time of year that, for me, things go a little 'groundhog day'. I don't mean the actual day, I mean the movie. It feels a bit like I'm living the same cold, grey day over and over again. I'm really not a fan of winter. I love that my birthday is a day to look forward to in the midst of an otherwise relatively dreary time of year. I love that I'm an Aquarius, because weird is the best way to be. And I really DO look forward to my birthday. I see so many women flipping out about getting older, and I guess I don't get it. It's like they're ashamed or something, when getting older is a gift. It means you're winning!

I have been asked SO many times if I would go back to being 20. That would be a loud, resounding F*** no! Give up what I know, the depth of my understanding, the perspective and wonder of experience, and all the people I've met along the way, just for something as ultimately useless as smoother skin and a better body? What a terrible trade that would be. And let's face it, I can still do everything I did back then (and more), but I'm a whole lot better at it ;-) I can listen to people argue passionately about things that experience has taught me are irrelevant, and not get involved. Things just don't get to me the way they used to, because I can see a bigger picture. Here's the cool thing though: I'm still teachable, maybe even more than I used to be. I think that's a choice, because I know folks my age (and older) who won't/can't hear anything that doesn't gel with what they already know. It makes me sad, but I've learned to not engage and that brings me peace. But I had to learn that. I think it makes more sense to just do what you know is right. Just don't be an a**hole. That's my goal. Well, one of them, anyway.

My goals have evolved and changed as I have. In my 20's I thought I had it figured out, then in my 30's I started to understand that maybe I didn't know sh**, but I would work on fitting into a persona that felt comfortable and right. In my 40's I was freed from all of that. I've found some authenticity. Now I KNOW I don't know sh** but it's okay because learning never stops. I know that we aren't here to be anything but who we really are, and that evolves and changes with experience and that's okay. I sort of feel like a kid again, knowing that there is so much out there to explore and so much to learn.

Sometimes, I get bummed because I feel like I haven't done anything with my life. There are a lot of things I want to do that have thus-far been out of my reach, but I'm not done yet. I need to remember the awesomeness of my life sometimes, just to get some perspective. I had the simplest and coolest small-town upbringing, I had horses. I was raised by educated and decent people who taught me to be kind. My family rocks. My friends, the new ones, the ones I've known my whole life, and everyone in between are some of the best people, and in that way I'm incredibly blessed. I'm super picky about who I 'friend' on FB, but the vast majority of them are my real friends. My mom did her masters thesis on the benefit a sense of humor can have on your health. My step-dad is a kind soul who can do anything, and does it quietly and without need of fanfare. My dad is a rock hound who lives in a 5th-wheel. How awesome they all are. All of them moving forward and searching in their own way.

Sometimes, I've felt like I've stood still, but I haven't. I've done so many things, from working in a shoe factory to making guacamole. I had a sculpting business, my horse-sculptures sold around the world. I've worked on farms and in dog kennels. I sang, I danced. I went to school and met new people and learned new things. I've struggled, and I haven't. I've published a book, I've been on television. I've had entire phone conversations with movie producers. I've met so many famous people through music. My daughter is half Russian. Sometimes, it feels like my life has been so small, but it hasn't. I feel like I'm just getting to the good part. There are things left to do, and dreams yet to be fulfilled.

I still have a horse to look forward to. What I've wanted has changed over the years, and maybe that's why there's been a delay in the fulfillment of that particular dream. As much as waiting sucks, it's been educational and the perspective it's given me has been very valuable. I haven't found love yet. Oh, there's been plenty of "love", but not love. And that's cool. Love knows where to find me. If he wants me, he's going to have to come and get me because I'm not going to chase him (whoever 'he' may be). My daughter turned out to be an amazing human being, and somehow that makes me feel like I deserve to have my life back and to live it to the fullest. I know what I need to do, and there are steps I can take to build on the success I've already worked for. I just need to pull my head out of my a**, remember how much my dreams mean to me and FOCUS. As the sun comes around again and marks another year in my life, I look forward to another pink cake and celebration with loved ones, and all the experiences yet to be had.

Disconnect

If you know me at all, you know that I am much more comfortable in the realm of thought than I am with feelings. My ability to think things through and mentally pick things apart and make objective assessments has been a really powerful survival mechanism for me. It's true that sometimes my thoughts get away from me, but usually because of feelings. Ergo my discomfort. Feelings always seem to be something that happen TO me, something I don't have much control over. They range from warm and pleasant, to intense and unstoppable. Sometimes those feelings are a tidal wave that turns my life upside down. But what choice is there, really? I spend time on my computer, using the internet as a buffer, as a way to disconnect. Sometimes the internet is a compassionless and ugly place.

For the last couple of weeks I've felt as though I was walking around with my heart outside of my body. I don't run from my feelings because I don't have any, but because I do. The human suffering in this world doesn't go unnoticed by me, the losses don't go unmourned. Whether those losses are natural and at a distance, whether they are needless and directly effect someone close to me, or whether they are the result of gratuitous and thoughtless violence. There have been a lot of them, and the cracks in my carefully constructed, personal armor are widening and visible. I know what it feels like to suddenly have the rug pulled out from under you with catastrophic consequences for you and your loved ones. I know all too well what loss feels like. Having said that, I would like to take a moment to express gratitude for the security I currently enjoy and the loved ones my life is blessed with. As a friend recently said, "Life can turn on a dime." It's a fact I know all too well.
 
I had occasion to go back home recently. It was for a funeral, but as I embraced my old friends, the people who shaped my childhood, I realized how much I missed them; how much I miss living in the real world, even when it's painful, or chaotic, and even messy. In spite of this realization, I need desperately to retreat and process. The world has been a painful place just lately. But that isn't new. Today I'm supposed to be at the Chase Away 5K. I'm on the planning committee, and it's a cause near and dear to me. I've never missed a year. But I've got nothing left. So I do what I do to heal. I do this, and I walk/run.

Sometimes, It's about running TO something instead of from it. About being in the moment. Sometimes it's my own desire to overthink things that gets in my way, so I run. I allow my thoughts to fall away, and focus on the thud of my footfalls and the rasp of my breath. I revel in the ache of working muscles, and the trickle of sweat at the small of my back. I always take the detour through the woods. Where the path dips over the brook, I speed up; I run down one side and up the other until I feel like my heart is going to burst. And then I stop and I listen. I feel the wind and the sun on my face. I hear the brook and the birds. I am reminded of my own humanity, that we are all flesh and bone, animated by spirit. We are a part of this world and each other. Any harm we do affects it all. But by the same token, any good that we do ripples outward indefinitely. That's the part I need to hang onto. I need that constant reminder, a connection with the gritty and real. I give myself time to watch the squirrels and enjoy the earthy redolence of fallen leaves, and I let it all go.

Culture Shock

Papa and I in our canvas 'tennisses'

I'm sick again. This never happens. I almost never get sick. This winter hasn't been particularly harsh, and I can't ever remember a time when I took better care of myself in terms of diet and exercise, and yet here it is. I do get it though. I've been having nightmares pretty regularly too, and the tone of them is always the same. Sometimes the dream is about people I love joining a cult that does terrible things. Sometimes it's about people I love having friends that kill and torture people, but they have no issue with it. In my dreams, I always try to talk to my loved ones, and they either answer me in a foreign language and then laugh when I don't understand, or they tell me I need to get over it. Sometimes during these conversations there's screaming in the background. Sometimes it feels like I'm in hell and I can't find the way out. That feeling stays with me into the waking world sometimes, when I remember what the world is now. That's why I'm writing this. I won't stop getting sick until I acknowledge that what I really am is heartsick. What I feel is disconnected, because they changed and I didn't, though they think it's the other way around.

There's all this talk about going back to 'what was', but that's not the direction we're going. We're going in a direction that is as anti 'what was' as it is anti progress. I know what it's like to grow up in one world, and suddenly find yourself in a world that you don't really fit into anymore. I grew up in a small town. I knew and loved everybody. I would ride my bike to the library and know who lived in every house on the way. I always had quarters in my pocket (courtesy of my grandfather) so I could stop at Mr. Alberghini's store for a chocolate bar or some peanuts. If I picked up the mail on the way home, I always made sure to say "Hello" to Mr. McIntyre at the post office. There were dirt roads, farms, cows and horses. There was a roving pack of dogs that spent their days together (our dog was one of them), and who all were home by dinner time. I used to have brand new, homemade hats and mittens to wear to school every year. The town was overrun by kids riding bikes and horses every day in the summer. I went to church every Sunday and to catechism, and sometimes the priest would have dinner at our house. I sat on the front porch in a rocking chair watching it rain while my grandfather sang "Pennies From Heaven" (our family liked to sing), I played pick-up softball with the neighbors in the summer, sometimes until the sun went down. I was a girl scout, and learned to care for the planet and our natural resources. I was in 4-H and learned how to take responsibility for my animals. I learned that no man is an island, and that we are part of a community and in that way are responsible for each other. I watched westerns with my grandfather, and I wanted to be a cowboy (or an Indian. Either one, as long as I got to ride FAST) We went ice skating in the winter. We had a phone with a cord, and if you wanted a private conversation you had to sit at the top of the cellar stairs and talk quietly. We used to wait until it was dark, and then play hide and seek or tell ghost stories. I rode in the back of pick up trucks, my long hair usually in a ponytail and covered by a bandana. I went to drive-in movies and drive-up eateries. I remember when TV would end the broadcast day at midnight.

Back then, kindness and respect were the norm. We didn't have to legislate it or talk about it, because it was just a part of life. People who had respect for themselves treated others respectfully. It's just the way it was. It was part of the fabric of everything I knew. I said "Thank you" to my school bus driver and the lunch ladies every day. I always called folks who were older than me "Mr.", "Miss", or "Mrs." unless told to do otherwise (still do), out of respect. My grandparents weren't just real Republicans, they were real Christians. They always put people before money, and they were generous. When somebody needed help they were there if they could be. Most of the neighbor children had at least one toy fixed by my grandfather, or a boo boo tended to by my mom or grandmother. I learned that 'fiscal responsibility' meant spending carefully, and taking good care of things so that they would last a long time. That way, you'd have the money when you needed it for something important, like people, especially family. I learned that when you help somebody you do it without strings and without need of recognition. My grandparents helped me a lot financially, and they would refuse repayment (Nana: "I'm not taking your money. Do I look that cheap?"). But we grew up understanding that we were very, very fortunate to have the money, and that not everybody was. The lesson was that, as adults, we should be just as willing to share our good fortune with others should we also be so blessed. We also learned to love everybody. We didn't have to like them, but we did have to love them. We learned that it wasn't our place to judge other people, and that hating others was like poisoning yourself. If I came home talking smack about somebody (rare), my grandmother would say something like "Nevermind! You just worry about you!" I didn't really know anything about gender equality issues because my mom did whatever the hell she wanted, and didn't feel any need whatsoever to explain herself. It was through teachers and school that I learned how "scandalous" that was and how difficult my mom's path really had been. I admired the hell out of her because I saw the toll it took sometimes, but she kept on going.

Compared to the world I grew up in, the world I live in now seems cold, crass, tactless, selfish and often cruel. And it's getting worse, on purpose. I think it's part of why I have such a hard time with the current version of the Republican party. I'm an Independent, but will admit to leaning heavily to the left by default. I go where my inner morality takes me, and much of that morality was shaped by my grandparents who helped to raise me. My grandparents were REAL Republicans, when it was the party of the people, of workers rights, of empowerment of the individual through fair and ethical employment, and of fiscal responsibility. If you had asked them which party was more important, they would tell you that they both were important in order to create balance. I was too young to really grasp the specific political beliefs of my grandparents, but I knew and respected their personal values, and have tried (and continue to try) very hard to emulate those values in my adult life. I have to wonder what they would think of today's political climate. I know a lot of wonderful, decent people who still support the Republican party by default, despite it's departure from the party's real values. I have often wondered how that's possible. But I heard a story (parable, tale, whatever) the other day that sort of explained it for me. I can't remember where I heard it (TV?), but it was about how to boil a frog.  As the story goes, if you drop a frog in boiling water it will simply jump out and be on it's way. But if you put the same frog in cool water and turn up the temperature very gradually, the frog wont realize it's being boiled. Kind of a gross analogy, but you get the point. We've slowly, so slowly, given ourselves over to financial priorities. We have reality TV and cable news keeping us complacent and entertained. We've allowed ourselves to be divided and conquered for profit. And I'm so damned angry. I remember 'great'.  Great was ethical, kind, respectful, reasonable, inclusive, and GOOD. It was humane and careful and responsible. That's not where we're headed, not at all. And those good values I grew up with are being erased and made a mockery of. The truly Christian values I was raised with are being twisted and used to punish and hate. We're being sold an enormous lie and we are just going along with it, selling out what's important and to our own detriment. No wonder I feel sick. I wish there was a way I could shake people awake and remind them of who they are, but I don't know how. We're boiling. We're boiling like crazy, and people are cheering about it.

Learning to Listen

Full disclosure: I am sick, a feel like crap. I've had a really tough week, and coughing has meant I'm fairly sleep-deprived. I'm not coming from a place of strength and confidence just now. Sometimes I question whether or not I should even share anything with you all when I feel like this, but inevitably, one of you will thank me for doing so. I appreciate that, it means a lot to me, so here goes.

I had a really nice birthday dinner last night. It was small (family) and at my favorite restaurant. It was late, but doo doo happens, as do giant snow storms, sick siblings and what not. But it was nice just the same. My sister made me a giant pink cake that was everything. It wasn't fancy, it had had to travel a bit, but it was big, pink perfection. Sometimes it's a giant pink birthday cake that makes all things right with the world, and this was one of those times. But I felt like sh**, and a little bit gutted if we're being perfectly honest (again, tough week), and it made me more vulnerable than usual. You know how it goes.

I don't get to see my loved ones often, so when I do I like to catch up a little. I was talking about something that was bothering me about the current state of things, when another loved one interjects with "That's bullshit". It wasn't bullshit. It was something I actually knew quite a bit about. But in order to avoid a "thing" I just clammed up. But that's what we do to each other, isn't it? It didn't matter that I was stating an actual fact. I was silenced by an opinion. Any other day I would have been pretty 'whatever' about it, but I am just so fried. It highlights a problem that is actually pretty huge and relevant right now. Everybody has something to say, but nobody wants to listen. Double that if you dislike the facts. No good will ever come of that.

It reminds me of when I was a child in elementary school. I hated school with a fiery passion. The work bored me to tears, and I've never liked being around a lot of people. I've never been what could be considered anti-social, but I'm definitely an introvert in the extreme. Always have been. Going to a place that made me feel profoundly anxious every day (to the point of physical symptoms), just to be inundated with things I already knew, was like living in hell. I was going to try to find a less dramatic way to put that, but why sugar coat it? There was some discussion about having me skip a grade or two, but my lack of social whatever prevented them from doing so. My subsequent (and inevitable) lack of engagement in the classroom was apparently enough cause for concern that a child psychologist was brought in to deal with with me. He was nice guy with a PhD who meant well and worked with lots of troubled children. I think his only failing was that he'd never been one himself, so there was a giant gap in his perspective that his PhD couldn't fill. That in itself didn't need to be a problem, but he came into the situation predisposed to believe certain things, and he approached me and my issues with those preconceived ideas. Consequently, he didn't listen. He heard things that he wanted to hear, things that supported what he believed. The things that were the most real and important were discarded outright because they didn't fit the narrative he believed in. He was in a position to recognize something in me that, had he been able to see it, my whole life could have been different. Instead, he made suggestions and implemented situations on my behalf that did a whole wide world of damage. Because he couldn't/wouldn't hear me.

I don't bring this sh** up because I'm still grieving it or haven't moved on or any of that nonsense. I think the past is important because it provides context. It's supposed to teach us something and give us some perspective. You have to know what's wrong before you can fix it. But I think getting stuck there, and making every decision based on the past is a ginormous mistake. It's possible to get so stuck in "what was" that we lose the ability to learn and grow. Ahem. But I think the *listening* piece doesn't lose relevance. Failure in our ability to listen to each other is at the root of every social problem we have. It's the reason we have riots and protests. People are so fired up about what to do about this group of people or that one, but nobody is asking the people directly involved. Nobody is willing to hear the answers because they've already made up their minds. Instead, they discredit, dismiss and invalidate, throwing away the truth because it doesn't fit an accepted (albeit flawed/false) narrative that they are more comfortable with. It's like saying "Stop telling me who you are and what you need, because it doesn't mesh with what I think I know about you, and I don't like looking at reality". And that determination to make everything about numbers and policies, about ideologies and money, it's killing us. And sometimes it feels like watching it play out day after day is killing something in me. Don't worry, I won't let it. I won't be sick much longer and I'll get my equilibrium back.

But it's so damned important to listen. Until we're able to understand how profoundly our personal biases influence our beliefs about others, we'll never be able to relate at all to each other.  As long as nobody is willing to listen to the truth, it's all just noise.

Birthday Wishes

Photo:happybirthdaycakeideas.com

Today is my birthday. I usually wake up happy, and shamelessly make the entire month of February all about me. I'm generally insufferable on my actual birthday, but it seems to be more amusing than annoying. Sometimes. You would think I was a four year old child instead of a lumpy, middle-aged woman. I say that without any of the implied self-deprecation. I don't happen to believe there is anything at all wrong with being either lumpy or middle-aged. I'm forty eight today, actually. And it's cool. But I woke up in kind of a sad space, and that's less cool.

There are several legitimate reasons, I suppose. It's cold, it's grey, and it's the time of year that I am SO sick of winter. Some dear friends of mine lost a really great dog yesterday, and that's heartbreaking. Our country is a sh**show, and there's nothing I can do about that (if you disagree with me on that point, please keep it to yourself. For me, even more depressing than the sh**show that our country has become is the  number of people looking straight at the situation and thinking its just awesome). And you know, I still don't have a pony. That last bit is in part my fault. I know what I want, I know what I want to do and it's an area of my life where I'm not willing to settle. It's also an area of my life where I have more than paid my dues, and it's time for a new experience.

I did come to a realization that brings me closer to that goal, though. There was once a time that I wanted nothing more than a house of my own in the middle of nowhere. I could keep my pony at home and I would feel 'free'. But my daughter, in her infinite wisdom (I swear that girl is a magical unicorn, and I have no idea how or why), reminded me that I could have a horse without "all that". She reminded me what it was like to live in a home in the middle of nowhere (which we did for many years) and asked me how I got 'freedom' out of that. She's not wrong. I think of the work and the responsibility, and the reality of living (single parenting, no less) in what is essentially a chore factory, and that really isn't where I want to spend my money or energy. Like, at all. It was definitely the right way for a child to grow up, but now it's my turn. Do I miss mowing the lawn? Shoveling snow? Cleaning off/repairing the roof? Or really, fixing ALL the things? Do I miss injuring myself repeatedly, dealing with getting water to the barn in the winter? Do I miss how impossible it is to go anywhere, or get anything else done? I'm forty eight today, and no, I do not miss all those things that beat me up when I was younger. Maybe someday I will, and I'll revisit the idea then. For now, I like the singularity and simplicity of my greatest financial goal: Pony.

It's a good feeling to be content. I love my neighbors. It was a thought that occurred to me only recently, but there it is. I like that I can make a phone call when something needs to be fixed. I like that my car lives in a garage filled with security cameras. I like that when I couldn't start my car, there were several friendly faces around to offer me a jump start (of COURSE I have cables). If I had the money, I would refurnish my place so that it's a little more 'me', but I have all my parents' furniture from their condo, so I'm not exactly hurting. They don't buy junk, and home is super comfy, so it's all good. We're actually okay, and it hasn't always been the case. I feel some pretty genuine gratitude around that in spite of my cruddy mood.

But this is a post about wishes, and I do have a few. Obviously, a pony and the resources to accessorize, support and show said pony are always in the front of my mind. My friend Autumn wants me to do mounted archery with her too, and that is also a loud and resounding HELL YES. I would like to have the time/focus to finish my new book. It seems to be writing itself, which is great, so if that could just keep happening I would totally dig that. I also wish for it's success. There's never a guarantee there. All I can do is hope that I'm writing something that people will want to read. Speaking of success, I wish that one of the movie producers who's been in touch with me would do more than talk to me about how awesome it would be to work with them. Option the damned book already! Yes, it WOULD be an awesome movie! Yes, I would LOVE to help with the screenplay! Let's do it! (See above re: Mama wants a pony). Here is where I completely acknowledge that I have entirely different problems than I used to, and I'm grateful as hell for that too.

Speaking of holy (we weren't, but let's pretend), I've been praying a lot. I know many of you don't believe in God, and that's cool. I don't know how I would still be alive if I didn't, and that's no exaggeration. You know, the question I get asked the most is "How can a loving God allow so much suffering?". No clue. You might as well ask me "How long is time?" and "How big is the Universe?" because I think they are all equal in terms of how far beyond our human purview they are. Faith is certainly at odds with my logical mind at times, but I have more reasons to believe than not. I've been to some dark places I'll probably never talk about. But faith makes me think of humanity. I'm struggling with that a bit just now. I know all the wonderful things we're capable of; space exploration, medical breakthroughs, art, music...it's endless. I hear our divinity in a singing chorus, or see it in an abstract sculpture that reaches me in spite of it's intangible yet somehow familiar form. I don't think we understand fully the best of what we are, but I wish we could at least try. I wish we could see in each other our naked humanity, free from whatever form(s) of groupthink we personally subscribe to. I wish we could remember who and what we are and love that in each other and treat each other accordingly. It's how we came into the world and it's how we're going to leave it. In the end, it won't matter who told you to think or feel what. In the end it's just you. Who are you?

Yeah, that last wish was a doozy. Unrealistic, yes. For now. But it's my birthday, dammit, and I had to ask. So off I go to enjoy the day, and may there be many happy returns for all of us.

For my fellow Aquarians: 

Women's March

Nick Offerman doning a cap in solidarity

It's been a loooong time since I've posted anything. I loved where I was at when I wrote my last post, and I wanted to be there again. It was the sort of energy I like to put out into the world. But let's be real here; things aren't okay. You would have to be a pet rock to be unaware of that (not that I have anything against pet rocks!). While this post is certainly inspired by the women's march, it isn't entirely about that. But the record numbers of participants and the ensuing (albeit feeble) attempts at discrediting the event provide an accurate representation of the general goings on.

I don't want this to be angry, and I don't want it to be political. But I do want to make a few points: 1)This wasn't a "liberal temper tantrum". It was widely attended by folks of all ideologies, and it was a GLOBAL event. 2) If you are a woman and you've never felt discriminated against, I think that's wonderful, I genuinely do, and I'm happy that you haven't had that negative, insulting and demeaning experience. You need to understand though, that many, many more of us have had a far different experience, are STILL having that  experience, and it's an ongoing problem that needs to be addressed (have I mentioned the GLOBAL participation?). 3) Failure to allow inclusion by pro-lifers was far from hypocrisy. "Pro-life" sounds nice, but it essentially functions as anti-choice. Trying to insert yourself into a group of people who are fighting for their rights, when your whole raison d'etre is to impose legislation on that same group of living, breathing, sentient human beings in order to deprive them of their fundamental right to their own phyisicality...yeah, it might not be the venue. 4) Stop trying to discredit the event. It's a waste of energy, and it's coming off as desperate. I've seen everything from "They're burning the flag!", to "It's Muslims!"(the two most popular propaganda/manipulation tactics, which took me less than ten minutes to check out and dismiss), and "Why aren't they at work?"memes (seriously?) and headlines that essentially read "Large crowd makes messes". Funny how that last one isn't newsworthy when it occurs at literally any other widely attended event. Come on, PLEASE be smarter than this. When you subscribe to a certain point of view, will only listen to things that support that point of view, and won't do your own objective research, and actively reject everything else as lies, you are going to miss out on some pretty hefty chunks of reality. When that happens, there are going to be many, many people who live that reality who are going to disagree with your point of view. Pretending problems aren't real just because they don't fit into your ideological box doesn't make them go away.

Feminism came about for a reason. The word Feminism gets a lot of bad press because people misunderstand it (due in no small part to misleading propaganda). They think "I can't be a feminist because I shave my legs and I like being a stay at home mom". But they've missed the point entirely. It isn't about escaping the conformity of artificial, socially-contrived gender expectations just to arrive within a new kind of conformity. People who are used to thinking in boxes have a really tough time with the idea of no box at all, but the point is equality and choice. If you choose to be a housewife and a stay at home mom because that's what you love, GREAT! It's about embracing what makes you happy, whatever that looks like.

And let's talk about ideology. Once upon a time, it used to be nothing more than subtle differences in priorities. Not so much any more. I'm an independent, so I get bombarded by correspondence from both sides. One side is being emotionally manipulated, the other side is being actively and relentlessly lied to about the other (emotionally manipulated as well, but with anger instead of a sense of compassion). And they'll never know, because they won't bother to check it out (one side is better about that than the other, for sure). An artificial duality of thought is being created; this idea that if I believe in one thing, the other side must believe the opposite. If it isn't one way, then it must be another. It's a limited way to think in the extreme, and it's terribly sad. It's the idea that "Me and people who think like me are the only ones plugged in to the universal truth".  Newsflash: If you really believe that, then the only thing you're plugged into is your own ego.

We have to stop relating to each other this way! Look at what we've done to our country. We actually have people fighting for the right to be disrespectful and mean to other people (anti-PC), while lamenting how disrespectful today's children are. Really?! You really don't get that?
In the real world, as it used to be, if somebody came to you and asked you to stop hurting them, any decent person would apologize and rethink their behavior. If your reaction to someone else's pain is to dismiss it as irrelevant and then call them names, YOU have something fundamentally wrong with you. If you think opinions are as important as facts, you need to go back to school.

I know people have a lot of different perceptions about 'the way things used to be', but let me share mine with you. When I was growing up, I learned that it was important to have respect for yourself and for others. I learned that being mean and hurting people was wrong. I learned that you treat ALL people with respect, not because of who they are, but because of who YOU are. I learned that it is not our place to judge other people, but God's. I learned that different people have different ways of doing things, and that's okay. I learned to respect my elders. I learned to feel sorry for bullies, because they probably aren't very happy people. I learned that the well being of a person (especially a family member) always, ALWAYS comes before financial considerations.  I learned the difference between value and cost, and to always buy the best I can and then take care of it. I learned not to be wasteful. Boastfulness and self-aggrandizement are undesirable qualities. If I see something that seems wrong, speak out. If somebody needs help, help them. If somebody is being bullied, defend them. God is the only creator I worship. Never believe in gossip or speculation. Think for yourself, always. BE. AWAKE.

None of that sounds appreciably like the way things are heading, but I feel hopeful just the same. The worldwide movement against subjugation was certainly inspiring. We have tough times ahead for sure, but this time period feels very much like the dying gasp of a prehistoric beast. We just need to hold on to our knickers for a bit, and it will be okay.

Why I love Circles

Photo: www.rgbstock.com

When I first started this blog, my intention was to keep it light-hearted. I wanted it to be a place where I could focus on the fluffy side of life; I wanted to make it primarily about animals and silliness. It hasn't exactly worked out that way. See, the thing about being online, about being part of any online community, is that it has a fairly pronounced dark side. I get that we all know this, and it isn't exactly the latest news. But it's easy to get caught up, to get dragged away and to be distracted by all the noise. For me, the worst part has been finding out about some of the horrible things that people believe in, even people I know and love. The feelings fall somewhere between a helpless kind of melancholy, and the realization that something with teeth is standing next to your bed at 3:00AM. It is what it is. And apparently, we're all about labels these days. We're all about making assumptions about large groups of people based on speculation, about passing judgement, about forgetting there is a difference between opinion and fact. Propaganda is propaganda no matter the source. Wanting to believe something doesn't make it true, but people believe just the same.

People believe nonsense about others simply because someone told them to. A failure to distinguish between opinion and fact compounds the issue. It feels heavy. It feels like negotiating an unpredictable landscape where logic and compassion no longer mean a damned thing, and anger, prejudice and greed are acceptable.  Everybody is competing to see who has it the worst, and those who have it good feel fully entitled to exploit the desperation of others. It's so in my face every day, and it makes it hard to stay fluffy. Everybody is looking out for number one. I want to talk about what I believe, and why it makes the rest of it so difficult.

I won't deny the importance of the individual, but here's the deal: Each and every one of us is unique. We are all "different". Even so, unless you live alone in the middle of nowhere, build your own house, grow all your own food, make your own clothes, create your own energy, etc, you are connected to the rest of us. Our fates are inextricably bound. But it goes deeper than that.

The reason I love circles isn't just because I abhor straight lines and the sharpness of angles, but because they accurately depict our relationship with everything. Circles are inclusive. They are found in nature in a perfect state. They hold us all within them; they accurately reflect the reality of how even the smallest act can create a far-reaching ripple.

natamcancer.org

Taken spiritually, the idea of the sacred circle has been embraced by many, many cultures, and not for nothing. I'll focus on the Native American medicine wheel pictured above (items like this beautifully quilled medicine wheel are available by clicking the link under the image, and benefit Native American cancer research. A site which I'm not affiliated with in any way). While the symbol has been adopted by many tribes, I am most familiar with the Lakota understanding (my great gram was Sihasapa, though I didn't know much about her). Even so, there are still a lot of holes in my personal understanding to fill in, so please feel free to comment if I'm missing something.

I love this symbol. It is the epitome of inclusiveness. It doesn't just represent the connection of all people, but all of nature. Nature doesn't place humanity above anything else; we are all one in nature. It is only humanity that tries to see itself as above everything. It is seen in small ways, like assigning morality to feeding oneself (veganism for the sake of the animals, which is a fine thing to do but it implies immorality of all flesh-eaters; and being anti-farm gets extra silly when you have dogs and/or cats), or the need we have to assign human emotions and judgement to animals in order to describe how great they are ("my dog felt guilty when he dirtied the carpet", "my dog feels sorry for the abused animals on the TV","my dog is like a little person"). The truth is, every dog is a perfect dog. Every horse is a perfect horse. Every animal is perfectly and wonderfully it's own being, and not human. That doesn't make it any less, just different. The idea that 'not human' is less than us is so ingrained that we look for ourselves in everything to prove it is worthy. There's rarely ill-intent, but it's disrespectful just the same. I know I've said that before, but it can be really difficult to fully appreciate what the idea of inclusiveness means without acknowledging our human tendencies. Even so, we are perfect humans, all of us, and a natural part of the circle.

We, as humans, tend to make our spirituality separate too, as though it is something outside of ourselves.  But it is a part of nature too, and a natural part of everything. We argue and fight about the different ways we perceive our spirituality, and don't stop to realize that nobody has the whole story, and that we all do. It doesn't belong to anyone more than anyone else. Our divinity isn't dependent on our financial place in the world, it's part of who we are. It's the very energy of our beings. Before you think I've gone all religious, you need to know that my understanding of spirituality goes beyond religion (my religion is Catholic, which is neither here nor there for the moment). Even the greatest minds in history acknowledge the force of energy: The law of Conservation of energy is absolute, and says essentially that energy can neither be created or destroyed. Tesla has been quoted as saying “The day science begins to study non-physical phenomena, it will make more progress in one decade than in all the previous centuries of its existence.” That's for those of us who need a little logic with our spiritualism. Having said that, my personal experiences have shown me a reality that many people have to take on faith. I know life doesn't end, because I've seen it. We are energy, and that energy is in all things. In that most profound, fundamental and unequivocal way, we are all connected. We can embrace it and live through it and with it, or not. But real separation is impossible, and the desire unhealthy. The individual is best able to manifest and thrive when that natural connectedness is acknowledged, and even more importantly, respected. For the more religious among you, for whom the Bible holds the most sway (or the curious), follow this link to multiple Bible passages that offer more incentive yet to support this point of view.

The problem arises when we need to be reminded of our connectedness. When we convince ourselves so thoroughly of our own self-importance that we become unable to see the validity of anything but our own priorities and our own point of view. As humans, it's something we need be aware of. Our big brains can be wonderful things; they can allow us to be stewards of our world, they can help us connect with the divinity of all things. Or they can give us a false sense of superiority and infallibility. Most of our biggest issues today come from trying to impose artificial priorities (like the acquisition of money and things) on a natural world that doesn't share or acknowledge our contrived values. The further we get from our natural state, the sicker we get. "We" meaning all of us and all of nature. That is a fact, Jack. There are ways to make it work, but the imposition of money on everything has functioned like a sickness in and of itself. It makes us hateful, paranoid, greedy. In our desire for a sense of control, we oversimplify everything; we make things so black and white that we fail to see the myriad of solutions that fall somewhere in the middle. The middle has become a blind spot. You think we would have noticed by now that the desire for money and control does nothing at all to make us better people or to improve our circumstances. We think having more makes us better. We get covetous and paranoid about our resources. It's ugly and it's violent. We use our big brains to justify it. We forget why we are here and what we're really about. We lose our magic in persuit of the trivial and insignificant.

So, those are my thoughts. I haven't found a way to adequately shield myself from the awfulness that exists, or to not get caught in it myself. We are going through a period of time when it's financially beneficial to play on peoples' prejudices and to exploit the worst of human nature. Our conversations are nothing more than hatred, name-calling, divisiveness and blame. It's so bad that we can't even see what we are doing to each other and to ourselves. We've forgotten the connection. All we can do is try to remember, and do our best to stay out of the fray.

Silver Lining

Photo: www.wallpapersonweb.com

I've had an awful week. There are different degrees of awful; sometimes it means annoying or hurtful, and other times it can mean SO much more. Some weeks seem to be specifically designed to tick all the stress-boxes, and this has been one of them. I don't like to talk about being disabled because I don't like that to be the focal point of my life. Weeks like this force me to stare long and hard at that  'monster' though, and now I'm mad as hell. One of the most difficult parts of being disabled is how vulnerable you are to the foibles and decisions of other people. It doesn't matter how conscientious and careful I am if somebody else's wrecking ball (accidental or intentional...same effect) can still trash my situation. And that's terrifying, because it's MY family that has to live with the mess. I've had a horrid week. It should be over by now, it really, really should, but it isn't. It's that last part that I can't live with.

Okay, I'm done whining. I won't lie and say I didn't call my mommy and cry to her like a freaking baby. I won't lie about the repeat performance I treated my daughter and my bestie to, either. I don't do 'helpless' well, and patience isn't a virtue I have (and in a situation like this it shouldn't be a virtue I NEED). But the emotional piece is now on a slow, rolling boil that I can live with (or make some tea from) and I have the grey matter reengaged.

What have I learned from this? Isn't that the point? What is the silver lining? Well, I've learned that I have options. Had I not been backed into a corner, I wouldn't have had the conversations that led me to that awareness. There's real value in that. Those conversations led to connections. More value. Sometimes the best new ideas are born from the lowest moments.  Well, DUH! Isn't In Stone the best lemonade I ever made (so far!)? I know how to make constructive use of adversity; it's like some magical kind of alchemy we all have access to. Sometimes being forced to consider one's options is the best thing that can ever happen to a person. I was also made aware of what I DO have, and that is a fabulous network of supportive people. It's easy to take those folks for granted, but times like these remind me that I am loved. There is nothing more valuable than that!

One of my friends likes to talk about how the world isn't fair and you have to take what you can get, but I don't accept that. Frankly, that's just pessimistic BS. But once upon a time I subscribed to that. And I tried to be polite and fair to my own detriment. It has lead to a lot of hardship for me. My mother always said that I was the only one who could change it, but I was always so afraid of being unfair or mean. While I believe that no matter what others do, it is our own behavior we are responsible for, I have learned that it's perfectly okay to advocate for yourself. I want EVERYBODY to win, to be happy, to be successful, secure, etc. But I also want those things for myself. I deserve those things. If I don't make decisions that honor that, or if I'm always saying "oh, well that's good enough" so as not to offend, I fail to make myself a priority. Certainly nobody else is, so if not me, then who? Something to think about. Life can't always be about settling and getting by. You know? I'm sure some of you do.  But if you accept that, then that's all there will ever be.

I'll get through this. I guess that is my point. People survive terrible things. I hail from the sunflower tribe, so I won't be kept down long. Sometimes bad things happen, even we do everything right. What do we take from it? What do we learn? Oh so preachy today! Even so, I hope you all are having a great week, and at the very least, are proficient at making lemonade :-)

Poverty and Homelessness

A work in progress

There has been a lot of talk among my friends about poverty and homelessness lately. It has all been really constructive, positive and loving "What can I do to help the cause" sort of talk, and it's all good, but it's brought up a lot of things for me that I still really struggle with. Once upon a time, I thought some time and distance would fix the emotional wounds that are caused by poverty and homelessness, but I suppose it isn't that simple. Yes, I have been on welfare. My daughter and I have been homeless twice. We couch surfed so we were lucky, but luck is relative, I suppose. I grew up thinking, no, believing with my whole heart, that God never gives you more than you can handle, that adversity makes you stronger, that if you are polite and kind and do the right things, then bad things can't touch you, and that family will always be there for you. I believed that our lives are as positive or negative as the choices we make, but that we always had a choice. I know better than all that now. I wish I didn't, and maybe that's why I don't really talk about it, but if I can make just one person understand, or if I can take the self-hatred out of someone else's experience, then this difficult and painful disclosure is worthwhile. Sometimes things do the most harm if they're allowed to fester below the surface and never allowed exposure to the light of day. And it IS a new day, but nothing can erase what we've been through.

Poverty is one of those things that's extremely misunderstood. There's this idea that there is a solid safety net, that a person has to err egregiously to find themselves struggling financially, and boy, if you end up homeless,  then certainly you must have done SOMETHING to deserve that. I'll tell you what I did: I had a child. Even though it was the best, most positive and straight up honorable thing I've ever done with my life, it meant I was automatically living below the poverty line. I didn't get any child support. It happens. I hadn't finished college yet, so the amount of money I could make was negligible. I depended on welfare and the money I could make either working at home (I was a sculptor) or at jobs I could bring my child to. My grandmother helped me out a lot for awhile and we were okay, but then she died. My parents tried to help inasmuch as they could too, but the whole structure of my family had dissolved and my personal safety net was gone. Then, everything changed.

I won't get into all the details because they are tedious. But the reality for the average poor person looks something like trying to pay $800 worth of bills with $600 every month. Month after month. It fluctuates up and down periodicity depending on what you yourself are able to make (Congratulations on your new job. You are now losing your food stamps and have less money to work with.) I had a lot of nice things (I'm so lucky to have had good stuff to start with. I'm so lucky I came from a good family). I had to sell a lot of them at ridiculous prices, but at least I had them to sell. I was even able to start a business boarding dogs, and we did okay for awhile there too. But the thing about limited resources that is the most terrifying is the inability to absorb the impact of other peoples' decisions. You are quite literally at the mercy of people who care more about the bottom line than they care about you, or more about who knows what. I just know that when my basement flooded (the landlord had removed the pump before I moved in. I couldn't afford one of my own), my landlord got married and moved away, leaving her son in charge. He didn't take care of the basement (as promised), he didn't bring back the pump. When holes rotted through the floor and toxic mold grew in the walls, my daughter and I started getting sick (just get a spray bottle with bleachwater) and finally the place was condemned. It's what you can expect when the rent is "affordable", unfortunately. We couldn't find another place.

My parents rallied, my boyfriend at the time and his mom did too (Not my boyfriend anymore, but I still love them both). The plan was a house for my daughter and I, and an expanded business plan. I had this. I had people. We were going to be okay. We had it all worked out. And then we didn't. At the last minute, everything fell apart (My own family doesn't believe in me. I must be a terrible person). We scrambled to find something, ANYTHING. But rents are high and sometimes on purpose. Gotta keep the riff raff out, ya know. We lost our home and my business in one fell swoop.

There's something about packing your things when you know everything is going into storage (I can't believe this is happening). There's a disbelief (This can't be real) that goes with it until those final moments (at least my dogs are okay in my friend's kennel). It feels like a train is coming, and you're tied to the tracks. It feels like like screaming for help in a dream where nobody can hear you. And worse, your child's fate is inextricably tied to yours. It's what you think of in that moment when you load up the last of your things on the truck (I'm so lucky to have help moving my stuff), the moments when you are putting everything you own (at least I have stuff and a place to keep it) into a storage locker; your bed, your child's bed, your books and your child's toys. Then that slam of the door sliding shut on your whole world, and the click of the lock.  But the worst moment is that one when you get in your car (at least I have a car) and your child looks at you, and all you can think is "What do we do now?" (Oh God, don't cry. If ever you needed to hold it together it's now. Do it. Be strong. You failed. You failed. You're a failure. You failed your child, so you better HOLD IT TOGETHER YOU LOSER.) It's weird that life just keeps going. I'd bring my daughter to school, fortunate that she had that stability (Thank you, B&T), then go to the kennel to take care of the dogs (I'm so lucky to have a safe place for them), and search day after day for a place to call home. I would go pick up my daughter after school (Act normal. Keep it together. Nobody wants to hear about your embarrassing problems. Failure Failure Failure. Don't forget to smile. All these people get to go home and have dinner. They get to relax and go to bed. I wonder if they know how awesome that is.)

A lot of people have a lot of misunderstandings about poverty and homelessness. There's so much propaganda floating around out there that's very enticing. If you believe the poor are okay, you don't have to do anything. If you think the safety net works, YOU are off the hook.  If you believe that the poor and homeless did it to themselves, it allows you the triple advantage of 1) getting to pass judgement 2) getting to feel 'better than' and 3) you have the opportunity to feel good about turning your back on other human beings. I think very few people would knowingly do that, but the misinformation that's spread around has made poor-bashing acceptable and normal. It's disgusting. If you seriously believe that there is any advantage to being poor, I strongly encourage you to be in touch with local organizations who deal with poverty issues. Or, you know, talk to poor people. Perhaps even more important, set aside your personal bias and LISTEN.

Having said that, some of the LEAST understanding people I have ever met are social workers. Some are amazing, some just want to get through the day, but there are a surprising number of them who just want to talk down to you, talk at you, tell you how to live your life and talk to you about choices. They have the right intentions, but they are coming from their own place and not that of the client. They can't relate at all but they think they understand perfectly. It's a very dangerous combination, and likely the source of the perpetuation of misinformation so prevalent in the media today. They dispense a lot of advice that folks don't want or need and really can't take. To be clear, the REAL choices are: Food or rent, food  or gas, food or electricity, food or cleaning supplies, and when it gets toward the end of the month, food for me OR for my child (obviously a no-brainer). If I had a nickel for every person who wanted to talk at me about my "budgeting issues" or similar subjects (you just have to learn to be POSITIVE!), I would have had no more financial problems. My biggest budgeting issues were that I didn't have enough money, and lacked a magic wand.

So what DO the poor need? The short answer is more money. It takes a shocking amount of time and energy to wake up every day wondering how to feed you family, and to traipse about (if , in fact you are fortunate enough to have the ability to traipse), all over town to access random services, hoping to piece together enough money to keep the light on. It's energy that would be much better spent elsewhere. No matter what Fox "News" and their ilk say, nobody wants to be poor, poverty isn't lucrative, there is no advantage and nobody is doing well on subsidies. NOBODY. Pardon my French, but that is bullshit. I tried to come up with a better word, but there isn't one. On the rare occasion that somebody attempts fraud, they are caught and prosecuted. The second thing people need is opportunity. People who have opportunities take them so for granted that they can't even kinda understand that they aren't available to everyone, or conceive of how different life might be without them. It makes a huge difference when mommy and daddy pay for your education and sign off on all the big purchases so that you can build something positive for yourself right from the get go. It changes everything.

The other thing to remember is that homelessness isn't the problem, it's the symptom. If ever there was proof that the poor weren't getting what they need to help themselves and stop being poor, it's the alarming rate of homelessness. Homelessness happens when you have done everything you can do and it doesn't work, and have asked for help that doesn't come. It's a point of utter helplessness and hopelessness. I can't speak for everyone, but for me it was that moment when I realized that everything I believed in was bullshit. It was the moment when I knew to whom I mattered, and to whom I didn't. I realized that God most definitely gives you more than you can handle, and when it happened something broke so profoundly inside me that I've never been the same. Over the years I've worked hard at gluing all the little pieces together, but I don't think I'll ever be the same. I'm seriously agoraphobic. I mean, seriously. The panic attacks are so embarrassing, but it is what it is. I get nosebleeds whenever I get correspondence from my landlord, even though it's always benign. So no, adversity doesn't always make you stronger. Sometimes it fucks you up irrevocably. But I'm working on it. Even so, I can't help but believe it happened for a reason. I have yet to discover what that reason might be, but I'll know it when I see it.

It's over for us now, the 'living it' part. My daughter is an adult and we share household expenses. But every time I hear somebody trash the poor I get angry, because they are trashing me. Every time somebody disrespects and dehumanizes the homeless, they are dehumanizing me, and worse, my daughter. Those families are us, those children are my child. Anybody can end up there. It took me years of scraping and clawing to forgive myself for the sins that I was held accountable for but never actually committed, but I did do that much. I believe in myself, but very few others. My cynicism was well-earned. I wish I smiled more, that I was calmer and less emotional. I'll get there. In the meantime, I will always defend and advocate for those who can't do it for themselves, because I know they can't. I won't judge because nobody can be harder on a person than they are on themselves. But mostly because I understand that sometimes, people don't need a lecture or a pep-talk; what they need is real, tangible help.

The Time In Between

Photo: christmasstockimages.com

The time between Christmas and New Year's Eve has always felt a bit awkward. There's that melancholy sadness of another Christmas come and gone, and yet another celebration in the works. I usually toast the New Year with my daughter, pouring sparkling grape juice into obscenely expensive German crystal wine glasses to make it extra special. Then, she is off with her friends, and I usually find something interesting on the telly to keep me awake until midnight, at which point I say "Happy New Year" to my dog, and go to bed. As routines go, it's a simple one.

I don't like crowds. I find large, social gatherings exhausting, so though I love to wear sequins, I rarely find myself in a position to do so. It's all good. I value the quiet, the ability to complete a thought and the relative predictability of not-a-party. As I get older, I appreciate that quiet even more.

It's funny though; this year is absent the anxiety I usually feel about another year going by. As much as I like predictability, I like to feel that I'm making progress, that there is hope and that I'm moving toward something meaningful. It's not hard to understand why a person would feel a bit out of sorts in the post-Christmas-hype state of overeating and undersleeping. For somebody like me, just messing with the routine can send me a bit off the rails. But this year, I realized that my best years AREN'T behind me. There are things to work on (always), but the time period I'm in right now is filled with sparkly goodness, and the kind of joy that makes me laugh until my cheeks AND stomach hurt. I am doing things. I am learning things. Maybe that doesn't sound like much, but to someone who has become accustomed to having to focus on coping with the way the Universe acts upon her in unpredictable ways, it has been very nice to be the one doing the 'acting upon".

And it works. I act, things change. It hasn't always been the case. Sometimes I've felt like negotiating my life was something akin to driving with the parking brake on. Sometimes it's still like that. But it's changing. My personal impatience makes me want it all and right now. But I think things happen the way they do for a reason. I have time. Interestingly enough, that used to be my horse-training mantra, and then it became my dog-training mantra. Now, it's just a mantra. I'm okay to be in the moment. Even the challenges only serve to reinforce my commitment to the things that are meaningful and important. The Universe says "How bad do you want it?" My answer has to be an unwavering "THIS bad!".

So, on to the new year. I have a new book to finish, and so plenty of work to do. I'll "do my best and surrender the rest" (thank you, Nadiya!). I'll do so knowing that what's for me will not pass me by, that I don't need to control (and in fact can't) every element of everything, and I'll look forward to learning and moving through the lessons of the year to come. I have rarely had such a decent attutude about anything. Progress!

I hope you all have a safe, joyful and magical New Year's Eve, and a very blessed and wonderful year to come!

What I want for Christmas

It's funny how my Christmas list changes and doesn't change yearly.  What a crazy-awesome year it's been for me. I can't say that all my problems are solved by any means, but the gratitude I feel is immense. I feel a little funny writing a Christmas list. I mean, the season really shouldn't be about this giant greed-fest that it's become. I saw Chris Rock on SNL talking about this very subject; he said (and I'm paraphrasing) that Christmas is supposed to be the celebration of Jesus' birthday, and Jesus was one of the LEAST materialistic people to ever walk the Earth. So HOW did it get to be the season of mad materialism? A HELL of a good question.

Having said that, topping my wish-list this year (as always it seems) is a pony (a horse, actually!). Horses and dogs are the two areas of my life where I can get happily spendy, and I'm largely okay with it. I seem to lack the materialism gene in every other way, so I forgive myself this indiscretion. I was raised by depression-era grandparents, so my philosophy is very much one of "buy the best you can and take care of it". I recently replaced my 30 year old washer/dryer set because I could no longer find parts to repair them. Seriously. As you can imagine, this time of constant 'upgrading' seems like an uber-waste of resources to me, but I digress.

So, aside from the prerequisite pony, what would I like for Christmas? If I could have anything I want (and this IS my list, after all), I would wish that my family could be together for the holidays. It was the one time of the year (and sometimes two) that I was overjoyed to be ensconced in noise and chaos, because it was the loving noise and chaos of my family. I'm so grateful to have had those memories. On the upside, Christmas with my friends (the family I chose) is pretty great too, and I do have that to look forward to.

On a grander scale, I wish we could better see the humanity in each other. I think it begins by eliminating the sponsored-brainwashing of the media, and coming from a heart-centered place. Yeah, the individual is important, but without the support of each other it's a pretty lonely place to be. Together we can make HUGE things happen. We're starting to see that, and as the light begins to shine on ugly things once hidden, we can collectively make things better for ourselves and each other.

I wish that when I tuck myself into my warm bed at night, I could do so knowing that everyone has a warm bed. That I didn't have to know that, on a cold night, someone is sleeping in a tent because they have nowhere else to go. I wish that when I sat down to a good meal, I could do so knowing that nobody else is going hungry. We have been both homeless AND hungry. The lie is that people do it to themselves. The truth is that sometimes, people need help. Do you want to believe the lie, or show compassion? I wish I had the voice and the resources to do something tangible for those who can't do for themselves. I'll get there.

I wish that all domestic animals would be in the hands of competent and knowledgeable caregivers.  I wish that none of them would be given as Christmas gifts, nothing more than a trinket among many other trinkets. They deserve a special homecoming all their own.

I wish that children could become human beings before they 'plugged in', that school was an enriching experience, that the education of the soul was at least as relevant as the education of the mind. I wish that children could be grounded in the world, with dirty hands and pink cheeks from playing in the fresh air. We are beings of the earth, and as such the value of of fresh air and the outdoors will never be obsolete.

So, I guess I don't want anything outrageous or unreasonable then ;-) And if you can't give me one of those things, I'd also really like an L.L. Bean gift card :-) In any case, I wish you all a wonderful, magical holiday, whatever you celebrate this time of year. I wish you good health, happiness, fulfillment of dreams, ambitions and wishes. Thank you all for being a part of my journey!

I leave you with my favorite Christmas song:

Reasons for Giving

It's that time of year again. As mentioned at length in my previous post, I LOVE the holiday season. I'm super stoked this year because I love the plans I have lined up: A large turkey-day with family and friends at my cousin's house (there will be an OBSCENE amount of food there) and an expanded 'orphan's' Christmas with lots of friends who are like family. There may even be a cameo appearance by my Mom in there somewhere (which would be awesome!!!!!). I have so much gratitude this year it's coming out of my ears. Even so, I can't help but think of the less fortunate and wish there was something more I could do.

Whenever I've envisioned my ideal future, it involves me miraculously coming into money (via a book/movie/work deal) and having enough land to grow food with plenty to share. I fantasize about setting my life up in such a way that money has less importance (living frugally, making a lot of things myself, going solar, growing a lot of my own food, etc.) and thereby having enough money to do something tangible about the things I see that hurt my heart (especially the homeless problem). I'm not a people-person at all (and in fact am quite agoraphobic) so the hands-on approach isn't something I can do, but it doesn't mean I don't care and don't see the need. I'm so fortunate, especially this year, but it wasn't always so.

I am so lucky to have had my grandparents to set an example for me. They always emphasized that helping another person should be about that person. It should be done in a way that allows that person their dignity. It's why, on the rare occasion that I can help financially, I give money. I do it quietly, and move on. I can almost hear the collective groan from my readers: "What if they spend it on drugs/beer/whatever?" What if they do? But what if it's the first opportunity they've had to do laundry in a long while? Or the first chance to get a hot meal? The point is to give without strings or expectation. Another person's life and choices are none of my damned business. My choices are to help or not. If they spend it on beer, they do. I recently discovered that my daughter does exactly the same thing for the same reasons. Have I mentioned that she's an awesome human being?

People have this idea of the poor as dysfunctional, uneducated, mentally ill addicts who were teen parents and probably ex-cons who did something grievous to bring it all on themselves. First of all, poverty is about nothing more complicated than not having enough money to sustain oneself. Being a single parent, in and of itself, can be all it takes to get there, unfortunately. It's true that some of the aforementioned issues can run concurrently with poverty or even be a primary cause, but they are all separate issues, and issues that folks who don't have money-problems can have too. We need to stop vilifying the poor and making them 'other'. We are all human beings on this planet. I know there are folks who are all about the individual and me-ism, thinking they can just set some kind of example. I'm familiar with the erroneous belief-system that assumes that all people need is a little motivation. In that vein, I'm certain that a man with no legs is not likely to be inspired by how fast YOU run, literally or figuratively. No man is an island. Nobody has omnipotent control over even their own circumstances. It is absolute ignorance to believe otherwise.

Think about it: Person A and person B are born into similar circumstances. Person A's parents pay for their education and sign off on all the big purchases. Hell, person A might even have a credit card in their name that mommy and daddy pay for. Person A starts life in pretty great shape: No educational debt, a house (equity), and even a little good credit courtesy of Mom and Dad. Person B has to work their way through school, but even so, has a mountain of debt dogging them for life. Person B also has to rent (nobody to sign off on the big purchases+school loans=rent) and is pretty much stuck. Both can do okay, but if something unforeseen happens (like cancer), person A is in much better shape to absorb the financial repercussions, but person B is screwed. Unfair, but true. And many, many folks start life with far less than even person B.

I think of my grandparents again. My grandmother especially was full of little verbal gems :-) She loathed greed and always emphasized people over money, especially family. She used to say things like "It's nice to be seen in church in your nice clothes putting money in the basket, but if members of your own family are going without it's not piety, it's hypocrisy".  Another favorite: "If you have to take credit for it, you're doing it for yourself". I miss "Nana-isms". I miss the straightforward (and occasionally relentless) wisdom that my grandparents possessed. They didn't just say it, they believed it and lived it.

Maybe that's why I get a little crazy when I see folks on TV talking about how they are helping the poor, the poor inevitably milling about in the background. Maybe people don't want to be on TV for being poor. Why has that not occurred to anyone? Why do we have toy drives instead of just quietly giving needy parents the cash to buy toys? What is the harm in letting the parents be the heroes?  Or in letting the children choose the toys they want instead of being surprised with 'whatever' on Christmas morning? Why has none of this ever occurred to anyone? It's as though the assumption is that a lack of money somehow makes a person instantly stupid or unable to make any of their own choices, and it's not fair. And it starts with teaching children that they should feel lucky to get anything at all. What most people don't (and don't want to) understand is that needing and asking for help is humiliating.

I'm more about empowerment. You don't empower people by taking their choices away and throwing them crumbs. You don't empower people by using them and their suffering to lift yourself up and talk about what a great person you are. You don't empower people by telling them that if they don't have money, there must be something wrong with them. What IS that? Nobody wants handouts or crumbs. what people want are opportunities, real ones. Not the opportunity to struggle and be treated like disposable crap at a low-paying job, but REAL opportunity. I would have given anything for the opportunity to save myself. But I'm person B, and a single parent. I fully understand the shock of discovering that daycare costs more per hour than I can make and all the fun little shenanigans that follow that discovery. I feel that my perspective is unique because I fell from one world straight into another, and it was one I was completely unprepared for. The difference in the way I was suddenly treated was shocking and frankly, unacceptable. It was my fortunate upbringing that helped me to survive and pull myself out, but I didn't forget a thing. But how are people supposed to have any hope?

So clearly, this post got away from me. Even so, I hope that what I've written here gives you something to think about. I'm not saying don't donate to the food shelf and don't buy toys for the toy drives (in fact PLEASE DO! They are really in need!!). Right now, that's what there is and it's preferable by FAR to doing nothing. But please keep in mind that the folks who are struggling do so all year round, that they are not struggling because they want to. Many of them work and have children, many are veterans, are disabled, are elderly. All are human beings, each one a soul with value and purpose. Please don't let the media lie to you or the few who abuse the system convince you that the poor are somehow undeserving of your love and respect. While it's true we are all responsible for our own lives, we are here for each other too. We all need help sometimes, and I'll value human beings over cash any day.

On that note, I hope you have  an awesome turkey day!