Things I’d Write to My Younger Self

I’m stealing this idea from my favorite morning radio show, Bob and Sheri, where Sheri Lynch wrote on this subject (see www.bobandsheri.com). I really loved it, and it got me thinking…  hmmm, what would I say if I were to write a letter to my younger self, from say, maybe 22 or so years ago, when I was in the height of teenage confusion, rebellion, and (self-)destruction? Here’s a try:

Dear Me,

It’s me, sending you a letter from 22 years in the future. Pushing 40!!! Yikes! I know you think that’s a faraway place, but it will be here before you know it — take it from me.

Anyway, yes, we make it this far. And quite a bit goes on between now and then! I know, I know, you have a thousand questions, and you’re just DYING to know what happens! I won’t spoil it; you must live it for yourself, because that’s what makes us what we become (which is a good thing). Plus, then it won’t be any “fun”!

However, I will give you a few words of wisdom from our experience:

• Learn how to laugh — really laugh — sooner. It feels really good, and is a remedy for almost anything. It could easily replace that junk you’re doing, and it’s much more permanent (and much less harmful).
• If you must find a guy to be with, find one that makes you laugh, not cry. Get rid of that loser you’re with; you’ll probably have a lot more fun over the next few years if you do (I WILL give you this spoiler: the relationship WILL end, and you really will be much happier when it does. I PROMISE).
• Speaking of relationships, stop ignoring your “gut,” and go WITH it. Be more assertive and go after what you really want; don’t settle for what’s there on a plate for you if it’s not what you want. You deserve it! You do eventually figure that out and are much better for it, but PHEW! what a bumpy (and somewhat wasteful) ride along the way…
• Your parents love you, regardless of what you think. They just have their own issues – lots of them — and there is no way you can have the maturity now to understand what they are. You may not like them, but you can love them, and one day, you may lose them, and then it will be too late. Ditto for the others in your immediate family. Celebrate their quirkiness, and realize that EVERYONE’S family is quirky in one way or another!
• You are a whole lot smarter than you think.
• You are a whole lot stronger than you think.
• You are a whole lot more beautiful than you think.
• Stop wasting your time cutting classes, and get your schoolwork done! It would’ve been a lot easier (and faster) getting through college if we’d had some scholarships to help us out (this also points back to the fact that you’re a lot smarter than you think). And it really wouldn’t have taken a lot more work than you did.
• Do yoga. It helps. Everything.

So, do we end up happy? Definitely! Regardless of what you do to maybe make it a little easier, there is still a very challenging path along the way. However, I wouldn’t change that for the world; though I still wouldn’t say life’s perfect, NOBODY’S life is perfect, and the sooner you realize that, the better! Overall, though, you create the very life that deep down you really, really, want…. but are afraid to acknowledge. It will take a lot of work, but it will be worth it.

Because you’ll get here.

Nature vs. Nurture - for the Zillionth Time!

I remember the big debates in my college Sociology class about the whole “Nature vs. Nurture” thing. Over the years, I debated it with friends, coworkers, neighbors - you name it! You can debate it all you want, but the absolutely best clinical trial you get is when you have your own kids. And now that my husband and I are 12 years into our clinical trial, I feel I have ample experience — not just with my own children, but with those around me with children — to make this statement:

CHILDREN TEND TO ACT THE WAY THEIR PARENTS EXPECT THEM TO, AND THEY TEND TO GRAVITATE TOWARDS WHAT THEY KNOW FROM THEIR OWN LIFE.

Groundbreaking? Earth shattering? Not really. But a vast majority of the population turns a blind eye to that simple statement, totally ignoring their own actions and persuasions as parents, and refusing to take ownership of what they themselves molded. Exasperated parents tend to just shrug their shoulders and write it off to SOMETHING genetic.

OK, so I’m going to insert a disclaimer here. I’m not saying that EVERYTHING is behavioral; I do believe that there are SOME things that are genetically hard-wired into a person. However, I think the number of items is really shockingly small compared to what people tend to attribute to it.

So here’s my beef, and here I’m going to shout it at the world:

1) GIRLS ARE NOT BORN NATURALLY BEING SUBMISSIVE AND LIKING PINK, PASTELS, AND DOLLS;
2) LIKEWISE, BOYS ARE NOT BORN NATURALLY BEING AGGRESSIVE, LIKING BLUE, BRIGHT COLORS, AND TRUCKS.

There. I said it. That felt good.

I could write an entire dissertation on it, I think, with the experiences we’ve had over the past 12 years. But I won’t. However, I just want to show you some data, based on my experience with my 2 girls and their friends (both male and female):

1) I personally don’t like pink all that much (and I DEFINITELY don’t like ruffles and frilly things), and I definitely don’t buy into the girl-pink, boy-blue thing. Therefore, my girls weren’t dressed in pink and ruffles — and :::gasp::: I actually bought a lot of clothes for them in the boys department when they were younger, because that was the only place I could find the fun, rich, bright colors that ALL children deserve to wear (vs. all of the pastels in the girls’ section). I remember when they were babies; since ALL BABIES GENERALLY LOOK ASEXUAL (really, this shouldn’t be all that groundbreaking), and since my husband and I didn’t have the hangup that many parents have that it’s socially taboo to have a baby that DOESN’T look like its gender (per society’s standards), we never put garter belts on our daughters’ heads or insisted on inflicting the useless pain of pierced ears to PROVE that they were girls. They wore a wide range of bright, non-pink colors (except for the few pink pieces that friends and relatives INSISTED they get — because of them being GIRLS), and comfortable pants. We had plenty of people in public make the comment, “What a cute little boy! What’s his name?” and when I’d tell them and they’d realize it was a girl, they would looked shocked, like they’d made a monumental mistake and apologize profusely. My answer to that was usually along the lines of, “She really doesn’t care, and I’m sure she’s not offended in the least!”

2) My husband and I both hate the general idea of Barbie and that the ONLY toys girls should play with are dolls. Really? And that teaches them spacial relations and mechanics and how to compete in this overpopulated, dog-eat-dog world how? Yes, ALL children (that includes BOYS, too) need to nurture - whether it be a stuffed animal, a doll, or a sibling - but the key here is WELL-ROUNDED. One or two dolls, but also blocks, trucks/cars, science projects, sports, and puzzles. For EVERYONE. But that’s what my girls have had, and SURPRISE — though they’ve occasionally wanted a special doll (like American Girl, of which I fully approve, due to the “girls who overcame the obstacles of their society to be who they wanted to be” theme), they both have their personal preferences in playthings. For example, my younger daughter went through a phase when she just LOVED Matchbox cars, collected them, and made up scenarios with them. My older daughter LOVES myteries to solve, which includes stuff along the lines of CSI detective sets, and science kits. Besides that, they have books, games and games abound, outdoor/activity toys, puzzles, and many other activities. And funny — time and time again, when we have friends who have boys come over, they’re always surprised at how well they get along with the girls — because they actually speak the same language! It’s actually funny; even the girls who are expected to be quiet, demure, and to play with their dolls at home become different children when they’re at our house — because THEY CAN BE!

3) We also don’t believe that girls are naturally more submissive and less assertive than boys from birth. Contrary to what many believe, at birth, girls and boys have almost the same levels of testosterone, and there’s absolutely no significant difference until about 4-8 years old (depending on who you ask). So the “bouncing baby boy” theory is actually scientifically bunk. But we’ve seen it time and time again — someone who has both a toddler boy and a girl will reprimand their daughter for getting covered with mud,  making a mess, or being too aggressive; however, when the boy acts the same way, the parents say, “Stop!” then shrug apologetically and say, “Boys!” as if that’s an excuse. Then, not even knowing how they’re molding the behavior, they’ll go on to say how GENERALLY the girl is SO much easier, and how they’ve just “given up trying” to control the boy.

:::sigh:::

By the time pre-adolescence hits, it’s been well instilled, and I think that surge in testosterone coupled with the expectations of the parents exacerbates something that wouldn’t be quite as extreme if it weren’t programmed into the child at an early age.

We’ve severely minimized TV exposure to our girls, and the relatively few to which they’ve been exposed have generally been picked because of their positive reflection of girls. I remember when my younger daughter went through a funk about a year ago. She LOVES comic books — that was all we could get her to read for awhile — and she’d noticed that the superhero movies that came out were all about BOY superhero. So at some point, she decided she wanted to be a boy. So when I asked her why, she told me, “Because all of the superheros are boys!” Shortly after that, we got her a subscription to Wonder Woman, Spidergirl, and one of the X-Men (since it’s a good mix). That appeased her, but she’s right — look at our blockbuster movies: Batman, Superman, Iron Man… the list goes on. Typically, if there’s a woman superhero, she’s just part of the group.

We also prohibited a lot of the “classics” from our household  — Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Snow White — because we wanted to teach our daughters that they should take a problem into their own hands and fix it best they can through their own means, not helplessly wait for some “Prince Charming” to come along and “save” them. They’ve actually been growing up during a good period — there have been some good children’s movies that have come out in the past decade that actually show females in a strong light — so we’ve had a decent variety in place of the other, more old-fashioned ones.

So, what’s the purpose of this rant? I just think that after 12 years, it’s really old. My husband and I have refused to bring up our girls in the “girl stereotype” — my crusade as a parent is to bring them up independent, strong, and of their own means, without needing any man to “take care” of them. As a family, the 4 of us have taken Tae Kwon Do together for the past 4 years, and we’ve all just gotten our 2nd degree black belt. At the ages of (almost) 10 and 12, they are self confident, vivacious, exuberant, strong, and comfortable with themselves. And I know we have the hurdles of adolescence ahead of us, but we hope we’ve gotten a good head start for them to make good decisions, of their own will, without any old gender stereotypes refraining them from being the best they can be.

 

Grandma, I can’t believe this…. but I think I understand!

When I was a child, we lived in the same house as my grandparents in Long Island, NY. While both of them worked,  I remember them coming home in the evening — my grandfather all kinds of, “Hi, how was your day?” before he went upstairs to the apartment that had been made up there. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world. My grandmother — nothing. She’d barely grumble, “Hi,” when she was on her way in and on her way out. And on the weekends, though my sister would go upstairs and spend time with her, I barely ever heard her speak. Even when I was up there with them — I would spend hours talking to my grandfather, yet I could barely get a few sentences out of my grandmother. What an extreme! And then, years later — I’m equivocating this to sometime around the time my grandfather retired and she was still working — it was like the dam broke, and she hasn’t stopped talking since!

I have to admit, she’s always been an enigma to me. I always wondered a) why she was SOOOOO quiet for all of those years, and b) why suddenly did she start talking, to another extreme, later on!

Very recently, the lightbulb went off over my head, and I think I understand. I UNDERSTAND!

I’m on a self-initiated talking hiatus at home right now, and I can see that it’s making my husband and my kids pretty uncomfortable. Because by nature, I am the communicator; before I started my business, my job was marketing and communications, so communicating was my LIFE. But I’m done for now.

By nature, I’m also a take-charge individual, and it was years ago established in an unspoken way that I would be director of the household, for EVERYTHING. Not that I wanted it; that’s just how it all went. And I didn’t really realize it — or mind it — while I was distracted and spending many hours with my work away from home. But right now, I’m tired of it.

And I’m just tired.

I remember sometime around 5 years ago, my husband went through this period when he was convinced that I didn’t love him anymore (I did), that I was having an affair in all of my work travel (I wasn’t), and that I was going to leave him (I wasn’t). It was mostly based on the fact that I was SOOO tired at the end of the day, that I was just done communicating — between directing my department during the day and directing everything else at home after work, I just couldn’t move my mouth any more! After the kids went to bed, I just wanted peace and quiet, and to turn on the boob tube and vegetate for awhile before going to bed so I could start the next day’s cycle all over again. On the other hand, he was a computer programmer and self-contained during the day, so he craved additional interaction at the end of the day. Somehow, without consulting me, he’d gotten himself all worked up in his head (without talking to me) that he made it a reality to him — and I had no idea, except the fact that he was cranky and sullen for awhile, and even though I’d ask him what was the matter, he wouldn’t talk about it. It took us having a really big blowup over some stupid things he did during this period — and me telling him I wouldn’t live like that — to find out the root of the problem and be able to work on it and get better.

I purposely worked on communicating with him more, paying him more attention, and it became more of a habit. So, by the time I’d decided to start my business and quit my job, we were humming along pretty well again. But here’s the problem — I’m a communicator, and spend a majority of my time with the plants now, which, though it is very soothing and balancing, leaves me with a deficit in the area of communication. I crave it, and 2 years later, I miss the constant, constant, constancy of having to do it! Before, I had a department of people and everyone related to my job to deal with every day. I had a group of friends that I saw at work all the time with whom I’d share a lunch break and regularly share and unload any issues that needed to be vented. And so, I could easily get past irritations around the household because I was able to study them, then release them, and then forget about them through my day-to-day interactions.

So, it’s been 2 years now, and though I do have a good group of friends, it’s a very different world for me now. I don’t have that regular interaction with others; most of my interactions are today very topical and, though friendly, just don’t do anything in the way of helping me work out the real stuff on my own. So I guess I’ve increasingly depended on my husband to be my sounding board, and I guess somewhere down the road over this period, I’ve also started to expect him to take a more active role in being there for me and maybe take on some of the household directing. Because having a business such as mine, until I can afford to hire someone (or go back to my old life at the office), that alone takes more time and stress than I’d ever imagined.

What a big mistake.

And I know it! Why, after 14 years (now 16, since it’s been 2 years since I quit my job to work full time on my own business), I should expect him to even SOMETIMES take the wheel and honestly think about how to make my life easier and ease some of my stress without me having to repeat, repeat, repeat myself, is really sort of silly, I guess. I guess it would be like having to actually drive a car after being chauffered without a care for 14 years.

I guess I thought, due to those long ago problems, that he would REVEL in the fact that he is a more central part of my life now, and that I depend on him more as my partner in crime. That he would be happy that he has what he wanted and naturally want to be more front and center, and take some kind of leadership role to alleviate all of my stressors. But instead, he seems to have lulled himself into some blissful ignorance so he doesn’t have to feel my stress, and go about living life and expecting that everything will be taken care of and work out just fine. All the details, the dirt, and the ownership of everything, to make sure it gets done — that’s mine. And I apparently, in his mind, have more time to do that now, with me having a business at home. And if I mention it, all I get is, “Oh, I feel the stress… you have no idea!” Really? I really DON’T have any idea, because he’s not doing anything to actually HELP alleviate it all, and he doesn’t even listen to our conversations anymore — it’s usually very, VERY obvious that he couldn’t be bothered with talking to me, that I should just get on and TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING, and let him go on with his day.

With that being said, even my “old role” doesn’t seem to work anymore. I communicate, I assign, I give deadlines, I explain financial issues, I try to be creative in problem solving — and over the past 6-12 months, I’ve noticed that it seems that no one is hearing me AT ALL anymore, husband and kids alike. In their eyes, it’s all on me, I guess. They don’t want to deal with the dirt, the difficulties, the stress, and so it’s obviously all on my shoulders, no matter how much I try to share it! I lose sleep at night, I have a constant pit in my stomach, it’s gotten to the point that I don’t enjoy my life anymore because IT’S ALL ON ME. And then, after I’ve tried to throw up red flags and asked for help, and dispairingly fallen back into the standard director role with which I’ve always been assigned, I have to repeat myself to my husband and my children over and over and OVER again, and STILL not be heard – and I HATE repeating myself to begin with.

Don’t get me wrong — it’s not like my husband doesn’t do ANYTHING. He does plenty — but he’s really like a robot. Typically, he only does something if I tell him it needs to be done, and usually, it’s nothing more, nothing less. That in itself is a problem, because after 2 years, I would think he would remember my guidelines about some things having to do with the business, but if I don’t outline the whole thing to a T, inevitably, it doesn’t get done. It’s like he just throws out all of the information instead of processing it, and just figures I will input all of the information every single time it comes up again.

Did I tell you I’m tired?

THIS is why. So I guess I’ve decided I just don’t feel like talking anymore, because a) it’s a waste of my time and effort, and b) maybe it will kickstart the thinking and action process of the others in my household so that it WON’T ALL BE ON ME. Because, for the first time in my life, I feel like I’m at a breaking point, I don’t know where to go from here, and I don’t feel like I have anybody to help me. But since I tried talking and yelling from the mountaintop until my face turned blue, I figured it would take much less effort for me to just zip it all up and let it go. I WANT TO NOT HAVE TO WORRY FOR AWHILE. Though I know I will; however, sometimes something has to break before it can be fixed. And I think my back has broken. Unfortunately, my husband is not the best at confrontation, either, so though I know he knows something is really wrong, he’s afraid to open the can of worms.

But I’M tired of doing it.

Back to my grandmother. She and I have very similar personalities in some ways. She likes directing and taking control. So maybe, at some point, she just decided to say “Screw it!” and clammed up. Because now that I think of it, she started talking again when my grandfather retired and she hadn’t yet. I remember her saying that he was driving her CRAZY. But it may have been that since his world changed, he took a different role, and she felt like she could talk again.

Good God, I really hope it won’t be years, like it was with her! I don’t think I can last that long in a stasis like this.

Hello? Is there anybody out there?

 

Last night, on the news, I saw a story that discussed an increase in local (NC) water prices (for those who have town water) because now that people aren’t using as much water (that would actually be called CONSERVING, last I checked), the water treatment plants aren’t making enough money.

 

All I can say to that is, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

 

I am continuously amazed and appalled at the whining of big industry that has an effect on or causes us to have an effect on our environment, such as water companies, oil companies, and everything related. I also continue to be amazed at the politics that are overall against us preserving our environment – our world – so we can continue in existence. Electric cars and or hydrogen cells? Been around for longer than most people think. However, the oil industry has its hands in so many political pockets that they’ve successfully kept it under wraps for decades. That’s right: DECADES.

 

More than a decade ago, when I lived in New York, we would gather our recyclables, take them up to the recycling center, and actually get paid for recycling. Isn’t that fascinating? Because when we moved down to North Carolina almost 12 years ago, we discovered rather shockingly that we have to pay to recycle here.

 

OK, so let’s get this straight:

• We pay more for water because people are conserving;
• We pay to recycle;
• We pay more for recycled paper and other recycled items than for items that take down our forests and other natural resources;
• We pay more for non-GMO (that would be non-genetically modified) produce because the pharmaceutical indutry has so flooded our commodity markets with GMO items (which we’re discovering have long-range negative effects on our environment and on us) that buying food grown from NON-genetically modified — and much safer and healthier — seed is today actually a NICHE market;
• We pay an extraordinary amount of money for petroleum products so… well, hmm…. so the oil companies can make more than any other company/industry in the world next quarter, yet again? When we’ve actually had the resources to use alternative fuels for decades?

So, what is wrong with this picture?

 

There’s a movie that a friend of mine recommended awhile back that was a sleepy Indy movie — and it initially seemed pretty dumb, yet if you paid attention to it, it was exactly where we’re going, and it was actually a brilliant movie with a brilliant statement — it’s called Idiocracy. Rent it, and then, please, THINK! About what we can do to fix this. Because if we actually start to think instead of just follow, we might wake up and fight to fix what’s so terribly, terribly wrong.

 

 

 

 

Enough of this silent discrimination, already!

 

I’m sooooo tired of this, and I’m wondering if everyone else is actually agreeing with — or actually just going along with, like sheep — the silent yet persistent and unwielding cold shoulder the media insists on giving Hillary Clinton, despite her popularity and potential.

 I’m rather disgusted and sick about it. It was clear early on — even when Hillary was the clear favorite for the Democratic candidate — that the media would do ALL it could do to silently push her out of the public’s eye, minimize and taint any coverage about her during these campaigns and primaries, and try to persuade the public silently in this act of intentional omission to NOT CONSIDER HILLARY.  I feel like running to the mountaintop and yelling, “Hello? Does anyone think for themselves anymore, or does the information the media chooses to provide to you become your truth, accepted as is, and forget about any personal analysis by finding out ALL the information, not just one side?”

Idiocy.

Yet she’s still rather holding her own, regardless of the apparent joy the general media seems to be getting by sensationalizing Obama and every single little baby step he makes. Obama this, Obama that… if I were an alien, I would think that this Obama person was a clear front runner, because it isn’t as if they give Hillary equal share of coverage — especially positive coverage.

Sexist pigs.

You know what? I don’t care about Hillary being a woman, and I don’t care about Obama being a black man. What I do care about is that Hillary was the first first lady that made people uncomfortable because she actually had politics of her own, instead of quietly “standing by her man” and doing as a good little lady should do and just follow in his shadow. And constantly, the media drags up BILL’S politics and throws them in her face. With some things she agrees, with some things she has a very staunch opposition to. Last I checked, Bill wasn’t running for president again… GW had some different politics than his pop, yet he wasn’t constantly barraged with accusations about that! Yet, again, because she’s the “little lady,” she’s not allowed to have her own beliefs?

She’s got the experience, the intelligence, and the chutzpah, not to just be the “first woman president,” but to be the president that has to clean up the mess our current president has made of this country. And maybe to add something different to the plate.

I’m a registered independent; I don’t claim allegiance to either major political party. And I’ll have to admit, I didn’t vote for Bill Clinton either time he was in office. However, I DO say that regardless of the fooling around issue (funny, it seems there were plenty of other presidents in history who did the same and everyone just looked the other way — including Kennedy – but that’s a whole different blog!), he did a LOT for this country. Hello?? Does anyone remember that it was the first time this country balanced its books and being in the black since…. a very, very long time before? Yes, there were things with which I disagreed, as there are a few items on Hillary’s agenda that I disagree, but when they did a national poll about 5 years ago, Bill Clinton actually ranked as the #2 favorite president of Americans. #2, folks.

Anyway, back to Hillary. Because as I said before, this is HER campaign, not Bill’s. I know there’s a solid, intelligent consistuency out there who still really, really wants her to win this nomination, and the presidency. Because she can make a difference, and she can break some huge barriers that haven’t been broken before in the process.  In my opinion, the more Obama becomes the media’s love child, the more I get disgusted. When did it change, and the media stopped reporting the news without bias or favoritism? Because today, all I see is brainwashing. Because if you strip down the sensationalism and all the mud slinging, Obama really doesn’t have all that much to say that he’s not told to say. And who really wants that for a president who leads a world power that’s in dire need of a breath of fresh air and some “thinking outside of the box” to rebuild what we used to have?

Think for yourselves, everyone. Please. Don’t be brainwashed; and if you like Hillary, WRITE about her. TALK about her. LEARN about her. EDUCATE OTHERS about her, in contrast to Obama, so more and more people REALLY know what’s going on, before it’s too late.

And vote for her.

Why Those Folks Who Try Out for American Idol Don’t Get It

Tonight, I came the closest I’ve ever come to killing myself. Unfortunately, at the moment of deepest disdain, I couldn’t get my hands on any ice picks that I could shove into my eye and then further into my brain.

What would cause such angst, you ask? Sometimes, the simplest thing can set the most optimistic person over the edge. It’s just like for those of you who may have read the classic (one of my favorite books), Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (by Doug Adams) — I never could imagine what Adams meant or at what he was driving in his book via the description of the alien race, the Vogons, who could put someone through the most unimaginable torture and drive them to suicide by merely reciting poetry.

Tonight, I understand the metaphor. It was when my husband and I were FORCED to sit through the entire 2.5 hours of my younger daughter’s elementary school “talent” show. I use quotes there, because I definitely question the English definition of the word after tonight.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if 21 out of the 35 “acts” weren’t vocals — if you want to call them that. Bad karaoke is what I would call them. One time — and only one time — when my husband and I were first dating, my husband, in a drunken state, got up on that bar stage and sang “The Immigrant Song” (yes, by Led Zeppelin) with a bunch of his Navy buddies, thinking I would a) be impressed by his courage/idiocy, or b) take such pity on him and think he was so terrible, that I’d think he was cute. I went with a little bit of both. But see, here’s the point — getting up on that stage, my one-day-to-be-husband KNEW he couldn’t sing. He didn’t even try to hide it. But it was all in good fun, and he didn’t even pretend he thought he could sing. And that drunken night, years ago, he was about par with 95% of those 21 acts that got up there and really thought they were good tonight.

I recall my daughter (the one in the show, and one of the few acts that were NOT singing) telling us about tryouts. Tryouts? Really? You mean, there were some who DIDN’T make it into the show? Afterwards, upon prodding my daughter about that, she told me that the “tryouts” were just to make sure there was a legitimate “act.” I guess I question what the music teacher (the one who put this abomination on) thought was legitimate.

So, in struggling to keep myself from running out of that auditorium (well, actually, it’s what they call the “all-purpose room” these days — forget about a separate auditorium, gymasium, and lunchroom!) screaming and pulling my hair out, I pondered why, oh why, these kids would think they were THAT good. I’m serious; you had some kids in 2 or even 3 acts mixed up with a combination of 1 or 2 other kids, “singing” song after song.

 And then it hit me, like a light bulb.

Part of why I disagree wholeheartedly with our socialistic “no child left behind” thing today in the U.S. is that I think in a big part it causes our children to lack the drive to get ahead in the world. Remember the idea of capitalism? That the idea that the person who works the hardest and has the best outcome deserves to have the most and get the most recognition for it? In case you’ve forgotten, it was one of the ideas on which this country was founded. And it’s one of the reasons that the U.S. became a world leader. And now, we’re faltering on a global scale… isn’t it a bit too coincidental that it’s when we now have a generation of kids who aren’t allowed to show any differentiated points of view, in case of offending SOMEONE? Or, when they play T-Ball, baseball, softball, or whatever, ”no one loses, everyone’s a winner”? Or, better yet, growing up with an elementary school grading system that is structured (at least in our state) to just show a child is “at grade level” (with 85% or more of the rest of the children), instead of how well they actually stack up to other kids? Then, they wonder why the children get so stressed about the “End of Grade Exams” — when they actually have to be GRADED on their work.

I remember in middle school, when we had a talent show, that we DID have to try out, and we DID have to have some iota of talent to be in it. And then, someone actually WON. Which means…. gasp…. that someone LOST. And then, during the rest of my performing arts years — dancing, acting, cheerleading, and the like — trying out for something actually meant you competed to win, which meant that some people DIDN’T MAKE IT. I didn’t even make it sometimes, and I had quite a bit of training. And you know what? If I really wanted to do it, that made me try again. And try harder. Usually, it would make me dig in my heels and cause me to become better at whatever “it” was. Or, I would move on to something else, knowing I tried my best and it wasn’t good enough to compete.

That’s reality. That’s life.

Today, everyone’s afraid of telling someone they’re not good enough, or that they’re just not good at something. There are all of these school-aged sports where “nobody loses.” And there are talent shows where nobody wins, with music teachers telling children whose singing should be limited to the ears of the immediate family — or even just the bathroom walls — that they’re worthy of standing up on stage in front of the whole school and parents and singing into a microphone, with the illusion that they are worthy of doing so.

When I was growing up, we took lessons. Music lessons, dance lessons, and yes, voice lessons, if you wanted to get onto stage. Yes, there was a lot of natural talent in the mix, but raw talent almost never made it without SOME training. Would I have ever tried to break a cinderblock with my bare hands if I’d never taken extensive martial arts training? I think not. Would someone who’s never trained in diving try a triple flip, jackknife, or anything of the sort? Probably not. And my parents would never have let me just join a diving competition without it. And when I tried that jackknife and floundered badly, my parents would at least say something like, “… but you swim really well!”

Today, things are different. All this lack of competition, lack of training, lack of honesty, and lack of WINNING and LOSING is what feeds into the mediocrity we see more and more. And we marvel at the poor souls who, never having LOST at little, local talent competitions (though never having won, either), take a huge jump from their protected, everyone-is-the-same hometown disillusionment to the REAL WORLD and try out for American Idol, only to be crushed and confused when the judges give them the boot.

When watching those painful shows of personal disillusionment, I never understand if and how those people actually think that they’re even close to worthy of trying out for a national TV show like American Idol. It had to all be an act — no one could actually be THAT clueless about themselves, right? And so many.

But now, I understand.

And since I couldn’t find any sharp objects with which I could end my misery while enduring this masquerade of a “talent” show tonight, my wandering mind finally put together that long-pondered mystery of those terrible American Idol tryouts with these evil, group-think practices that promote mediocrity and sameness.

I get it. Simon Cowell, where are you when we need you???

The End of Another Personal Decade… the 30’s

 

Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me…

Last weekend, I hit the big…. 3-9. 39. It’s surreal to me. Because I can’t figure out where the 30’s went!!!

You know, many people get hit in the face at “x-0″ ages — 30, 40, etc. However, I seem to follow the pattern of getting hit hard at the “x-9″ ages. 29 was MUCH harder than 30 for me, and I think 39 is hitting me far worse than 40 will at this time next year (though it makes me “throw up in my mouth a little bit” to even type that at this moment!). I think maybe it’s because at the”9″ age, I’m looking back, saying, “HOW did that decade just rush by?” And at the “0″ age, I’m over it, and ready to tackle the NEXT 10 years!

So, I guess I’m a little in mourning. Where did the 30’s go? I don’t have any regrets, that for sure, because in reflection, I know I accomplished a lot, including:

• My children were born at the end of my 20’s, so my husband and I have been through toddlerhood and young childhood with them (and they’re on the verge of puberty now, QUITE another adventure!);
• I continued to quickly climb the corporate ladder and reached the position and paycheck to which I’d aspired; 
• I learned what it was like to lose a parent. That in itself was nothing to consider an accomplishment, but what was an empowering experience was how my sister and I stood together, and successfully fought through a muddy and process-limiting legal system for more than THREE YEARS after our father’s death to get some justice and retribution from the careless doctor who misdiagnosed him and essentially caused his death;
• I realized that once I’d reached the position and paycheck to which I’d aspired that it really didn’t make me happy, so I did some soul-searching, formulated a plan, quit the job, and started my own business — in a completely different field; and
• My husband, children, and I started Tae Kwon Do and worked through it together to earn our black belts together, and we will be testing for our 2nd degree black belt this spring — so yes, you can even do that in your 30’s AND BEYOND!

I’ve learned a lot in the past decade, and feel I am well equipped to tackle the next decade. However, inside my head, I think I’m still someone who thinks that the 40’s are a long ways away, and that I’ll get there… but “some day.” Well, I guess that “some day” is creeping up, and quickly! More and more of my friends are not just in their 40’s, but also in their 50’s, and I continuously marvel at them and think incredulously that there’s NO WAY they could be in their 50’s — remember when we thought the 50’s were OLD? Yet, these friends of mine are so young, so vibrant, and in general just embracing life, that I just have to wonder at my former silliness. I’ve just learned enough to enjoy life this decade, and now I finally feel empowered and equipped to face the world!

So, I guess it’s not so bad after all. I should be proud to be where I am, not just “at my age,” but just where I am, period. Because it’s where I want to be.

So Many Pieces… One Big Picture

With the New Year well into full swing, and more time down in the greenhouses getting ready for spring planting season sales, I’m back to my introspection, and lots of…. well, just plain thinking.

Over the holidays, I did a bit of reading for pleasure, which I haven’t done in quite awhile! As my husband calls it, I “devoured” the Pullman series (The Golden Compass et al), which in all actuality, I found VERY entertaining, and very interesting. Because with all the hype, I have a very, VERY hard time believing Pullman is an atheist, as he has proclaimed to the world over and over again. Actually, in a lot of write-ups, they say he is “atheist and agnostic.” Huh? That’s like saying someone’s Catholic and Protestant. You can’t really be both — you have to be one or the other. And after those books, I don’t believe either. What I DO believe is that Pullman doesn’t believe in the Catholic-inspired church (including Protestants), or rather, the politics and control exuded by any organized religion. With that, I have to say I agree.

However, I am about as far from being atheist OR agnostic as could be. I’m devoutly devoted to God, and have no doubts whatsoever about us being a part of something much, much larger, and much, much more eternal. But I have never believed in “God” as an elderly, brooding, jealous, enrageable old man sitting on a throne. which is probably why I really had fun with The Amber Spyglass and the personifications in the battle that ensued! 

If you look at our universe, it is easy to see that the universe is infinitely large, as well as infinitely small. I think God is something we don’t really comprehend in our conscious human minds, because “it” (I would never say God is in man or woman form, how very hubris of us) is so big, and we are just individual cells that are part of a much, much bigger whole. And as we are a part of it, we all ARE it… and we all have the capability to tap into powers that are much more extraordinary that we’ve yet to discover. THAT evolution is what I believe is our destiny. Pullman’s books talk about “dust,” basically elementary particles that make up universal consciousness, and that’s completely non-atheist to me. It’s really stating a belief in what a much, much bigger thing we’re a part of.

Which is why (even though I was brought up Episcopal) I hate what the symbol of Jesus Christ has generally become. The Christian Church has made it a cop-out — someone we should idolize and look up at at the altar (forget about the 10 Commandments when it’s convenient, regarding idolatry) because we’re just losers. What I really believe is that Jesus’ soul — as completely evolved, and in tune with the Universe/God — came here in that short lifetime to provide us with divine inspiration. I believe that Jesus tried to teach us that we all have the capabilities he had, and that we all need to learn how to tap into those capabilities. I think he was trying to help tap us into our next stage of evolution. And more than 2000 years later, we still haven’t gotten it yet.

Because we’re spending so much time fighting over who is right, and who is wrong. Pullman did a good job at poking fun at the whole afterlife thing, too. That, regardless of what everyone THOUGHT would be redemption and heaven, EVERYONE just went to a bland, gray underworld without their soul (though I have to say the one thing I did have difficulty with is how a soul could be separated from a person, since I believe that it’s the soul that MAKES a person, and not a robot), without being able to break up and assimilate back into the Universe (or “Dust”) and Universal Consciousness.

I think maybe a better separation could be the EGO and the SOUL, because I’ve always believed that it’s the ego that causes all this fighting, disagreement, and competition for ultimate power. Because what I’ve had problems with from very, very early on is the Church trying to tell me what I should believe and not believe, whether or not something seemed as plain as the nose on my face. And other churches, temples, and organized religions telling THEIR followers what they should believe and not believe. All of this fight for political and social power makes us forget that we’re all part of the same thing. That’s how we lose our unity. And I think we lose our power. Because if we were unified, we could combine our energies for evolution and probably take our entire species to the next level. But we can only go so far, because there many, many are people who honestly believe that “God” would care who lived on what land on this tiny little planet.  It’s like I would care whether an oxygen cell floated around in my arm or in my leg — as long as it’s doing what it’s supposed to be doing for my body, why should I care?

Not that I’m saying that we’re all the same and no one is better than another — quite the contrary! The Church preaches that we should be humble and put everything and every ability aside to be a servant of God first. How could that really make any logical sense? For our continued evolution and the betterment of our Universe and God, wouldn’t it be logical that every one of us do the ABSOLUTE BEST THAT WE ABSOLUTELY CAN, maximize our strengths, and improve upon our weaknesses? Regardless of the shield the Christian Church has made of Jesus, I do love Jesus Christ, because I want to BE like him, I want to be the best I can be — yet, the Church would find a statement like that blasphemous. Because though Christians can generally believe that Jesus and God are one, they cannot see how that completely shows us how WE are one with God.

Anyway, regardless of our personal religious beliefs, we do know there are things that are Universal, regardless of the fact that they are all intangible: Love. Good. Light. And is there really Hate, Bad, and Dark? Of course — there has to be! If we didn’t have black, how would we ever comprehend what white was? So maybe THAT was what the creation of the ego really was.

There are so many books out there today, with people telling stories that depict their beliefs. There are also many books out there today with the authors trying to uncover the truth (and their personal truths), and there are many, many different perspectives to which we weren’t formerly privvy. So, what I say is EDUCATE YOURSELF! Read about a lot of different beliefs — not just those that coincide with your own. Because sometimes, you’ll find something strikes a chord you never knew was there. And maybe that’s what we need to do, to get away from religion for politics and power and more towards our true spiritual evolution. I tell my children… LEARN! GET EDUCATED! Don’t just believe what someone tells you — research it, FEEL it, try it on for size, and assimilate it into your being! Christianity, Judaism, Muslim, Buddhism, Scientology, Astrology, Numerology, etc., etc., etc. – I won’t limit their knowledge to one religion and expect them to believe what I believe without letting them think for themselves! Besides, if we take away the ego, and look at the universal ties we all have, even scientifically, there are many, many things that most of it all has in common, and putting it all together WITHOUT the ego might help us with the evolution we so desperately need to achieve.

2 Weeks of Holiday… or a Month?

 

I started this blog just to have someplace where I could blurt out thoughts when they came to me, and it also serves as a great reason to occasionally procrastinate from doing some work that needs to be done.

I haven’t even had the patience or focus to even do the latter lately!

 We’re so ADD normally that during the holidays, there’s usually so much going on that we just have to check out on anything that’s more complicated than planning Christmas, between gifts, get togethers, parties, and visits with the family (or wherever). Work? Are you kidding me? Almost anyone with whom I’m in contact is nicer, more laid back, and sometimes downright LAZY this time of year. How many days until the next party or planned event? How many days until the holiday? And until the next?

In the US, we should take after our European counterparts — just be realistic and take several weeks of holiday. Then we could just daydream and/or focus on the upcoming festivities. Maybe more people wouldn’t be so cranky and frustrated for the season! Take away the stress of having to focus on working with so much else going on, and people might actually enjoy the holidays more. That’s my theory, and I’m sticking with it!

 On another note, it’s mostly during this time of year that I find myself regressing back to years past and different periods of my life. Why is that? What is it about the holidays that makes people get all sentimental and have the mental photos of their past become more clearly in focus during this period? Maybe it’s because this is when we send and get cards from people who, though we don’t communicate regularly at any other time of the year, are still a heartstring in our lives in one way or another. I try to read into the cards, and really enjoy when they send a letter (even if it’s the send-to-everybody update, which I write myself), because it makes me feel a little more connected to them, even if they’re far away. Occasionally, I still eek out news that I haven’t gotten directly, just from reading the cards. My best friend from childhood sort of dropped out of contact a few years ago, and we’ve been relegated to just the Christmas card. This year, the card came not from she, her husband, and her son, but just from she and her son. So, obviously, her husband is out of the picture now. Which, of course, piques my curiosity. I may give her a call soon…  Anyway, that’s happened a couple of times. And usually, it’s the person’s subtle way of telling us and the world that the marriage didn’t work out, for one reason or another. It’s definitely not the first time I’ve figured something out from that!

I received a card from one of my very good friends, whom I haven’t seen for 10 years now. We talk several times a year, and (of course) exchange cards during the holidays (and birthdays). In it, she wrote, “I was just thinking about one of the New Year’s parties you had back in New York… boy, that was years ago, but how fun!”

:::sigh and a smile::: Yes, how fun. And how long ago! (Of course, that was B.C.!) I had the best New Year’s parties (if I do say so myself), when I had a heap of people crashed all over the apartment I lived in back then. Wow — with the house we have now, we could have even MORE people! There’s a thought — maybe next year, a “New Year’s Eve” party reunion… hmm, sounds pretty interesting…  and SCARY fun!

It’s a thought, anyway. Because we’re coming to the day that the kids are big enough to tolerate Mom and Dad having a party and/or attending one. We actually went to a New Year’s party last year, and are thinking of inviting a few people over this year, because we’ve gotten through the “It’s too much of a pain” time period, when they were younger. Now, they actually enjoy it!

 And so, the cycle will begin again… 

Happy holidays to all. Enjoy!

Please Take Him Soon

My grandfather, aged 86 (and, I might add, one of my favorite people in the world), has advanced Parkinson’s Disease.

Over the past 6 years, I’ve watched him disintegrate rapidly. Always super intelligent (and quite the history buff), a little eccentric, and very healthy, it’s been painful for me to watch this. Because the Parkinson’s has taken over his body, and what’s left of him is that man trapped inside a shell that won’t let him connect with the outside world anymore. I can see his mind still working, but it’s literally painful for him to get any words out. He can’t write anymore. He won’t walk anymore. My grandmother (bless her) has tried giving him pads, magnetic letters, you name it, but he’s stubborn, and won’t use them. So, it can take several minutes for him to get one sentence out, even though that clear look in his eyes tells me that there’s a lot still going on in there.

It’s too painful for tears.

All my life, he’s been a vibrant, fun, interesting Irishman who loved to be the life of the party. When I was growing up, he was the only man permanently in our household, with five females (my grandmother, my maternal great grandmother, my mother, my sister, and me). Hoo hah! And with all the seriousness in the house — there wasn’t a lot of humor, I recall — he was always a breath of fresh air. I loved going upstairs to see Grandpa, especially when I had a question about history, because though it was by far my least favorite subject in school, he made it come alive for me. And at the family get togethers, when he and my Uncle Tommy (who’s already passed) would talk about WWII and argue about which was better, the US Navy or the US Army (Uncle Tommy - Navy, Grandpa - Army), I would just sit and listen, because they were so fun to listen to!

I was never close with my grandmother when I was young — she really didn’t talk very much, and when she did, it was mostly to my sister – and my mother wasn’t around very often (a side effect of being a single parent in the ‘70-’80s). My sister is 6.5 years older than me, so she wasn’t much to talk to until we were both adults, and my great grandmother died in 1980, when I was 11. So Grandpa was all that was left. Though he always seemed a little dreamy, a little distant, he was always fun and pleasant to talk to when I was a kid. He seemed genuinely interested in me and what I did.

And though, in adult life, my relationships with everyone else have changed, matured, and vastly improved, I’ve still loved talking to Grandpa. He’s always been so interesting! And almost never sick, until he had to get heart bypass surgery in the late ’90s. Then it seemed to slip downhill from there. He fell on the ice in wintertime and got a hematoma in his head; the doctors think he might have had a ministroke that went undetected, and soon around then is when he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s.

I will admit he’s quite the stubborn coot! He refused physical therapy in the beginning, which I think started a downward spiral — because he wasn’t using his limbs, but favoring them, so his disability got worse, and so on, and so forth. No matter. Because in the past six years, I’ve watched him go from driving to not, to using a cane, to using a walker, to using a wheelchair, and now, to basically never leaving the recliner chair in his livingroom. And that wouldn’t be SO bad, if he could — would — communicate! My grandmother, at 82, is his main caregiver, and is constantly pulling something in her back, her foot, or other parts because she’s lifting him when he falls, and that’s pretty often. She hasn’t qualified for Medicare-sponsored help to come in, and she refuses to put him in a home (because Lord knows, the Home would take everything they have to put him in there).  My mother lives nearby to help when she can, but still. To my understanding, most of the time, he doesn’t even leave the chair to go to the bathroom anymore — he uses a Texas catheter most of the time, and maybe gets out of the chair once a day.

I was just there this past weekend, and every time I see him, it’s more and more painful. He’s so frustrated because I know those lucid thoughts are still there, yet in his eyes, I see a little boy, scared because somewhere in there he knows he’s not long for this world, and is terrified. At this point, I wonder why. I know he so loves my grandmother — one of the only thing that makes him smile anymore is when he looks at old pictures of them or tries to talk about old stories from when they were younger — and they’ve essentially been together and in each other’s lives for something like 65+ years (save a relatively short period in there when my grandmother divorced him, married someone else, then divorced the other guy and married him again). But no matter how attached he is to her (and she to him, don’t get me wrong), how good is it when he’s just a shell of the man he was, needing 24/7 care, and she’s miserable and terrified at the same time – trapped, as well? SHE barely ever leaves the house, and when she does, she’s in a rush to get back, because she’s afraid of something happening when she’s out. She’s hired someone to tend to him for a few hours once a week, so my mother can take her and my great aunt out food shopping. But, from outside eyes, they’re both miserable. And it’s the most painful kind of misery. Because they’re both afraid of losing each other, yet they’ve already lost each other and refuse to see it. And he’s cranky and sometimes downright mean and inconsiderate to her, and she’s sometime mean and resentful right back to him.

So today, in my solitude while I was working in the greenhouses, I prayed – to God, to the universe, to our spirit guides and to all that help us — to please, please, PLEASE take him very soon. Because I love him — I love both of them — and it’s like they’re both in hell, when they love each other so much. And we all love them. But I don’t want him — them — to be in pain anymore. I want him to be able to let go, and realize that moving on is a beautiful thing — that he will be released of all of his woes, and that he will be whole in spirit again. And even if my grandmother lived for another 20 years, it’s nothing — a speck on a speck of time — before they will be able to be together again.

He needs to know it’s OK to let go. And go.

So I hope *they’re* going to help him over, and soon. Because I think he’s in hell now. And so is she. And no one deserves that.

Is that wrong, for me to feel that way? I don’t think so; I told my father, when he was barely lucid and just completely wasted away from the cancer, that we loved him, but it was OK for him to go. My sister did the same; he died within a week after those conversations. I wouldn’t be able to say that now, because I think my grandmother would kill me if I did.

But I can pray for it.

I love you, Grandpa, and know that you will always be with me, even when you are tired of the constraints of your body’s prison cell that it has become. And I hope you free yourself of it soon.