The Light Isn't Dead.

I'm a dark person.

I am. I cover it with humor and smartass pithy comments, but it's often hard for me to see the light in the world. The kindness. The compassion. The good.

I live in one of the most progressive states in what used to be one of the more progressive countries on the planet. In the last month I've watched rights for women whittled away state by state as fascists and religious extremists take more and more control of the country I live in, as evil people attempt to control women's sexuality and freedom under the guise of their belief.

For the past few years I've watched evil people attempt to eradicate anyone brown, or black, or red, or  poor (any heritage other than their own pasty, wealthy WASPs, really) by any means possible.

As if this country wasn't built on the backs of anyone NOT WASPy. As if they have some right to absolute rule, an unspoken tyrant oligarchy with a despot king at the helm, and willful ignorance celebrates it all.  Current leadership here has emboldened hate.

Yep, I'm pulling out the evil card, because that level of selfishness and disregard for other humans in favor of money and power is an infection that spreads like a damn virus of hate, and I find perpetuating hate pretty fucking evil. Detention camps in which the very children they insist they're saving with anti-woman reproductive care bills die, hateful rhetoric, dehumanizing speeches comparing human beings to animals and insects, Neo-Nazi marches, refusing sanctuary to war refugees...anything they can think of that stays under the international criminal court's radar.

It's exhausting and depressing. The weight of watching this happen and feeling so utterly helpless to create any real change can get utterly overwhelming. I mean, I understand and agree with the quote "all evil needs to triumph is for good men to do nothing" (as an aside, the etymology of that phrase is amazing, and worth looking up), but what does that mean in a practical sense? What can one person do against a mob? What possible difference can I make, or am I just stuck watching this happen, wringing my hands and standing by (or in this case, writing by)?

The historian in me recognizes this dystopian, awful period is a relatively predictable societal swing that will come back eventually, but that's neither comforting nor helpful. The swing away from respecting people as fellow human beings, as equals who can and should run their own lives, is horrifying. It's not too surprising:humans throughout history have consistently been horrifying to each other. We haven't learned much in our thousands of years on this spaceball about how to treat our own species. But we've also been incredibly, inspiringly, kind to each other. The dichotomy of humanity is full of extremes, and we are living through a period that could get so unimaginably worse, but it could also be turned.

There is still light.

There is always still light to be found, if you look for it. It's possible for a time we'll need to celebrate small victories to encourage compassion and kindness. I am a dark person. I have to sometimes look very hard for the light when things seem extra terrible to me, a state I can be in by the nasty tricks of depression in my mind just as much as news and social media. So here are some examples of light I found today just while writing this post over lunch. 

• Dr. Jen Gunter standing up unfailingly and unwaveringly for proper OBGYN care, and furiously, tenaciously correcting the lies spread about women and women's bodies. 
• Men and women publicly standing up together to say enough: publicly discussing things that were hidden in shadows for ages, advocating for POC and for refugee and immigrant rights.  
• Spring arriving in Minnesota after a horridly cold winter, as Nature wakes up and comforts with warm sun and fresh breezes. It is a season of hope and possibility, of new growth and increasing light here, and that does help. 
• My nephew sharing hugs with his sister and brothers because he's the most empathetic little boy I've ever met, and I adore him for having such consideration for others at six years old when so many in middle age have none. 
• I've seen Mr. Rogers' "Look for the helpers in an emergency" quote a lot lately, which tells me others are also looking for some good to hold onto. That means no matter how alone we might feel, we are NOT. 

There are things in this world worth fighting for, but right now it may take a little work to find a way to see the slivers of light that are meaningful to you, and stand up for them. "Be the change you want to see in the world" isn't a silly cliche: we are responsible for our reactions to the universe and creating/maintaining our environment. No one person can be responsible for fixing the whole of their world, but we can be in charge of the way we help: that means cleaning up where we can. Stand up for humanity. Stand up for your environment, for your universe, even in the smallest ways, because that shit adds up and is seen. Stand up for love: no matter what religion you claim to participate in, they all emphasize loving and respecting other humans, even those who are different from you.

And when the world seems to have forgotten that, be the light by remembering and demonstrating it.

When I can't see the light for myself, I can sure as hell hope someone else can see it through my actions. There is light to counter the darkness: you can find it.

If you can't find it, you can MAKE it. 

There is still good. There is still hope. We are still here.

Reasons I Shouldn't Personally Hit The Snooze Button

Disclaimer: I am not judging your ability or inability to hit said snooze button.

1) It's not actually a button anymore. Seriously..it's a random space in the middle of a touch screen on a device I'm more likely to throw across the room when the stupid noise starts than fumble my ham-hands to the correct fingertip spot on the screen. There are many other button sized things I can do with my fingers first thing in the morning* without triggering cognitive spark in my brain: the snooze button takes actual effort. And yet I do it anyway, because fuck getting up on time. 

2) Yeah yeah, I KNOW it makes me groggy. If I didn't roll over and say "fuck everything" when I woke up, and heaved myself up to a semi-upright impression of any primate I might actually wake up eventually. I'm tired all the time lately, and some of that is likely my hour of hitting snooze, because I fall all the way back to sleep in those 9 minute intervals.

3) Dreaming is a grab bag of fun. Speaking of those 9 minute intervals: I dream heavily during my between-button-fumbles. Sometimes the dream is just put on pause when I have to shut my phone up, and I can drop right back into it. 

Do you have any idea how horrifying that can be? This morning I dreamt I was charged with house/babysitting for friends of mine after their baby is born. No, I don't know why the fuck anyone would go on vacation immediately after, or leave said newborn with ME of all people: it was a dream, it made no sense. And for some reason assassins were trying to get in and kill me (there are way too many windows/doors in that house, FYI). I'm betting it's the same ones who failed to kill me in real life by sending me a fancy new winter hat and forgetting the skin-contact toxins, so NEENER I can wear my hat all winter long and my face won't melt off.

Um. Anyway.

I spent an hour this morning jumping in and out of a weird bad-guys-chasing-me-fight-back-ow-hide-fight-back-ow-HAHAYOUDIEMOTHERFUCKER-hide cycle punctuated by pauses to say "goddammit, not yet" and smacking the top of my phone again.

I should probably mention the secret passages I discovered in my dream in case the current residents don't know about them, shouldn't I?

Disclaimer the second: This is not a post about productivity or being a "look what I did before you even got up today" person. OMG I'm jealous of all of you who are those people, and I only want to kill you for the first two minutes I'm trying to claw my way into consciousness every day, I promise.

*I heard that snicker, and I appreciate the thought, but I meant the shampoo container's cap, the toothpaste, the button to grind coffee beans...etc. etc. etc.

God Jul. It's ok to take a break.

It's two days until the winter solstice (well, in the Northern hemisphere, anyway), and five days to Christmas Eve. Various cable channels are all about Christmas movies. Main streets in my city are lit with non-denominational decorations - white and multi-colored lights on various trees, big bright snowflakes hanging from streetlamps, evergreens in the public areas hold stars and winking bits of color.

Parking lots in shopping areas stay crowded until late. The frenzy of holiday grocery and gift shopping creates an anxious energy and a noticeable lack of "seasonal good will". Company, school, and extended family holiday doings take extra time out of schedules, increasing the frenetic pace right along with the feelings evoked (whether they be fun, obligation-stress, amusement, energizing excitement, love, or pure painful enduring).

Some folk utterly adore this time of year for exactly that frenetic pace, for seeing friends and family they haven't seen in a year, for the grand panoply of holiday shopping. Some folk feel the weight of all the social shenanigans, schedulus-interruptus, and the deepening darkness like a bone-crushing slab of obligation. And then, there are all the people along the spectrum between the two. 

Socially, "light" during the Solstice manifests with all the gift shopping, fancy dinners, exchanges of treats, decorating trees, lighting candles, and all the work/family parties that give a framework of community. Companionship. A way to battle the weight of the dark. It's the dark season, after all, and no matter which religion (if any) you claim as yours the theme of this week of the year is consistently a need for light.

It's ok to take a break from all the craziness if you need it. Use that lovely concept of hygge: relax just a little and think or read a book or watch a movie or just REST. Sleep extra to fend off the viruses all those adorable germ-carrying children carry around with them. Drink a little tea on the non-party days to counter all those awesome drinks. Spend some time sweating physically (outside, at the gym, with your romantic partner...whatever works) to burn off the excellent treats. Finding a little balance, saying no when you need to, is all ok. Really. Relaxing a little gives you an opportunity to catch your breath and stay healthy in all the ways.

The weeks around the longest night give us a pause in regularly scheduled days between the end of one year and the beginning of the next. Whether you enjoy or loathe this season for the solitude, for family gatherings, for parties and glitz, for gift giving and receiving, for the spectacle: it's a good time to consider what really matters to you and to your life. And what's been bothering you: those things you've pushed off for the superfun season's sake.

Shadows are so scary, aren't they? Creatures live there, in the dim corners of the room untouched by the Christmas Tree lights. Loneliness lurks there, among the deep quiet after the sun goes down. Seasonal depression reaches out from under the bed or the unlit closet. So much of the activity this time of year is attempting to drive the shadows away, but we learn over and over in our lives that facing those fears is the way to kill them. Eleanor Roosevelt said we should do one thing every day that scares us...and change of any kind is uncomfortable. I use this time of year for evaluating my shadows: which ones could be let go? Which ones should be embraced as a healthy part of me, or needs some help to heal and remove? What clutter can I clear? 

Thinking about what to push out and what to pull into your universe when the light returns after the 21st gives you time to toss out the garbage in your head and move forward, because starting on December 22nd the light will come back. The annual pause in time will give way to all the potential of the next year.

Isn't that what the whole New Year Resolution thing is all about?

"Happy" Isn't My Goal

There's this absolutely fantastic video going around on social media in which Jada Pinkett-Smith tells her daughter, eloquently and with the sort of power only she has, that the messaging in this country to women about being wives and mothers needs to change. Her point is that women are made to feel guilty or "less" if they DARE to take care of themselves first, so they are happy. And that happiness is our own responsibility; no one, no matter how awesome, can make you happy. YOU make you happy, then it's shared.

I love this. I think it's completely applicable to both sexes (particularly regarding spousehood and parenthood).

But the messaging is still just a little off, and I've been thinking a lot in the past month or so about why the "find/make your happiness" phrases are out of tune in my head.

Much like the word LOVE, I think the word HAPPY is often misused to represent something else, and it's that something else we're responsible for creating in our personal universe.

Well being. 

What's the difference? 

Happiness is an emotion. An emotion is a fleeting feeling, just like Minnesota weather: wait five minutes (ok, maybe sometimes an hour or a day or a week) and it will change. Happy (or sad, or bored, or elated, or lustful, or joyous, or disdaining) isn't a state of BEING: it's a state of FEELING.

Seriously, our culture is all about being happy all the time, like we should all be giggling and thrilled with our lives every fucking second of every fucking day. And if you aren't happy all the time there's clearly something wrong with you: ads are all about telling you what do you need to buy, eat, fuck, or take (alcohol/drugs) to feel happy.

Except you can't BE happy all the time. No one can: happiness by definition as an emotion is not permanent. If you were happy all the time, where's the room for everything else: sadness for lost friends/family/pets, falling in love, anger, rage, jealousy. We are here in these meat suits to bumble around for a couple decades, and we've been given this astounding capacity to feel: maybe we're SUPPOSED to feel it all. Maybe focusing on any single feeling and trying to force it to be constant is unhealthy: it can't be constant. It is fleeting, and it happens more than once.

The Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear* might focus specifically on fear (yes, it's not about finding your happy, but bear with me here), but the concept that no emotion controls you unless you allow it can be applied to any emotion. Observing doesn't lessen the feeling: it allows a moment of space between experiencing the emotion and acting in response...so, I can observe that I'm pissed off without actually punching someone (which would make me happy for a moment...and probably less happy when I end up in jail...therefore, useful to the whole adulting thing). I know, if you're not a Dune fan it seems like a weird non-sequitor, but I always liked the Litany as an example of the underlying state of well-being.

A state of BE-ing is the ocean over which emotions sail. Or, if you prefer construction terms, maybe it's the foundation over which emotions pass... 

In any case, if that foundation is strong (if you are in a state of positive well-being in general) I think it could be called contentment. Contentment isn't happiness. Happiness is a MOMENT. Contentment is a state which can weather emotional storms, whether they are exciting in a positive way (joy, elation, lust, passion) OR a negative way (sadness, fear, anger, jealousy), because underneath all the emotions is a core person who is stable, strong, and good with both their place in life and where they're going. 

Make no mistake, contentment doesn't mean complacent: I firmly believe a person with deep rooted foundation is most open to growth and NEEDS to grow and change. In nature and the universe, that which stops growing stagnates. Stagnation leads to decay. 

And nobody wants a goddamn horde of mosquito larve infesting their foundation. Ok I mixed metaphors there...how about: nobody wants cracks and rot in the foundation. Nobody wants the icky, smelly pond full of bugs and dead leaves instead of clear, clean water. Better? 

Discontent works the same way in the reverse: if your well-being is damaged and you are not content or well, does ANYTHING really make you truly happy? Can you feel even a moment of actual joy if your underlying wellness is murky?

So. What about the love thing? Well, that's something I'm still working on...so it'll be in a different rambly and nonsensical post.

*The Litany Against Fear, Frank Herbert, Dune, 1965

I must not fear.Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain

I have no good title for this...It's an anniversary of sorts.

It's been two years this weekend since Husband and a friend were on his motorcycle when they were schmucked by a drunk asshole. I say schmucked because said drunk asshole was going about 45mph and didn't slow down. At all. He pinned Husband's leg between the truck and the bike, breaking his pelvis in two places, dislocating his hip, breaking his foot, and finally flinging him across the overpass. There were other injuries, and some scars he'll bear forever. However,  Husband is definitely mending, although the extent of some of the internal injuries mean he still has pain all the time: nerve damage sucks, people. It sucks.

Two years ago on Friday I was sitting in the waiting room at Regions Hospital in St. Paul, going in and out of the ICU, hoping Husband could wake up eventually. I didn't know for sure until that Monday that he would. Two years ago 8/29 (since the dates and days don't match) I found myself in the ER at Regions at 10:30pm. To our friends in the ER with me, the doctors, nurses and EMTs (especially one in particular who knows us personally but said nothing so he didn't get removed from working on Husband), I can only say thank you. And that I sincerely hope the surgical resident who talked to me about the exploratory surgery necessary that night at 2am now looks his age, because it's goddamned disturbing to have a 12 year old telling you "we don't know where he's bleeding internally, but he's on his fifth bag of blood and we have to find the problem or he could die." Please dude, grow a goatee or something. Also, FYI, husband did not become a vampire. I just felt I should clarify...

As I understand it, our friend on the bike with him is also doing well, but her recovery is her own story to share or not...I just wish her the best in recovering and in dealing with the insurance company.

It's a funny thing, an intense accident. Not funny in a belly-laugh sort of way...funny in a life is fucked up and weird sort of way. Let me lay some background before I explain.

Humans, including Husband and I, get into ruts. Patterns of behavior, patterns of thinking, patterns of living and socializing, without really even thinking about it. I suppose the patterns happen BECAUSE we aren't thinking about it: when there is no examination of what's going in in our lives, we just sort of float through and act on habit instead of intent. Habitual behavior isn't a bad thing by nature: you can cultivate just as many good habits (eating healthy, exercising daily, etc.) as bad.  Change is always hard, whether you're creating good or bad habits, and more often than not people (including me) are more comfortable sticking with the devil they know than going through the pain and work of change.

Unfortunately, we'd both been in an unhappy rut for quite some time when the accident happened. There were so many reasons for the unhappiness, so many reasons for the horrible habits we'd both developed that it's difficult to even say when they started. But we'd both been generally stuck in these bad patterns for years. The accident was a catalyst, as major life-changing events usually are.

During Husband's recovery time we both had a lot of time to assess our lives, what we wanted, and where we wanted to go. Honestly, the entire first year after the accident was such a blur of emotion and physical turmoil it seems accelerated in my mind. There are months of 2012 and 2013 I don't remember clearly, and there are moments of memory etched in permanent, painful detail. It's been a very long two years, but there has been healing in every way possible.

Ultimately, his accident saved us both, as sick as that sounds. Waking up from a sleepy life and paying attention is hard. "Hard" isn't a sufficient description...hmm. Miserable, exhausting, enlightening, humbling, terrifying, thrilling, astonishing...all better descriptors but only if they're all together. It's harder when it's forced upon you. But once it begins, attention is difficult to stop, and contentment with the devil I know isn't possible anymore.

So, changes have been under way. Some are subtle: we've both been making individual efforts to work on accepting ourselves, on figuring out and actually working toward our on life goals. For me, that means a lot of meditation, writing, and slowly changing my diet/exercise to be a healthier person as well as a lot of internal work on identifying and...well...fixing the way I talk to myself.

Some are...less subtle. Ha. We moved from Minnesota to Texas, got new jobs...it's a whole new thing here and it's both terrifying and exhilarating. I miss my people all the time. I don't miss the state, and I suspect this winter I won't miss the snow much. We'll see. Currently out my window it's changed from 93 degrees and sunny to torrential downpour rain (the sort we only got rarely in MN happens here often...I call it Trinidad rain: feels like someone's dumping a bucket of warm water on you). It's lovely here, and I'm flabbergasted that I (VERY unexpectedly) like Houston. Funny how  preconceptions you have about something are so often utterly wrong. I like it here, and I feel healthier than I have in a long while: a physical change of scenery was something I needed.

But I still miss my friends and family, particularly those who became so very close to me in the past two years. Interestingly, the accident wasn't just a catalyst for changes in ourselves and our marriage: it was a big catalyst for our social circle (individually and as a couple). I'm not always good at identifying actual friends from those who need something from me but don't wish to be needed or people who are just flat out selfishly harmful. During those months in the end of 2012, we both discovered truths about people in our various circles and surprising things happened. Some acquaintances became very close friends, old friendships were rekindled, some close friends drifted away, toxic people were cut out of our lives because it's too damn much energy to accommodate them anymore.

To those of you who have been with us (for him, me, or both) on this ridiculously weird, intense, painful journey: we hope you know just how much we love you. I'm so utterly grateful for everyone in our lives, and I have some regrets about those I didn't get to know better before we left. Things are better, and even with challenges we're both definitely on a better path, individually and together.

I'm happier paying attention.

Entertaining Empathy For a Change

I have a funny post pending for tomorrow. Today is something else I need to discuss. Today I am not funny. I read a lot of online news and such (it's slow at work right now), and the past few days I've been pretty disgusted. 

Do you know there was a fatal car crash in Houston today? A woman with two small boys, ages 4 and 6, hit a tree. She was killed, her boys were injured. While waiting for help to arrive, bystanders saw people STEALING THE GROCERIES FROM THE FRONT SEAT OF HER CAR. With a dead woman and injured children still in the car. I'm horrified at the thieves AND at the bystanders.

In Dallas yesterday, a car hit the median and flipped over. By the time the police arrived, they could do nothing but watch the car burn with two people inside and hope to god the passengers were dead already for mercy's sake. The officer who spoke about it was ashen-faced and teary-eyed. Bystanders videotaped the whole incident on their cell phones. No one attempted to help before the car started on fire.

I can't even begin to discuss the #YesAllWomen comments I've seen from both sides. I understand the anger, I empathize with many of the stories relayed through the movement. I'm disgusted by the troll commentary. I've lived similar situations and dealt with the ingrained sexism in our culture. But I also see that common sense is being set aside. I'm a realist who appreciates the idealism of social movements but understands the predators, criminals, and assholes out there will never allow an ideal state to occur. I'm a feminist who believes firmly in equality and respect between the sexes should be the way of the world, but who also knows how to (and regularly DO) adjust my behavior, dress, and attentiveness based on my situation and surroundings. That's not giving in to sexist society: that's consciously taking responsibility for my own safety, which I believe is a necessary outlook for women and men. I've seen too much backlash against men as a gender, which doesn't' allow for any attempt at mutual understanding. To the girl who bitchily tried to force a male ER nurse from his table at lunchtime yesterday, loudly proclaiming his wish to eat his lunch at the table he was at first was sexist and he should move "BECAUSE I'M A WOMAN AND I WANT IT," I wish I'd been there. I would've slapped you across the face, you entitled idiot. Women like you are just as sexist as the sexism you protest, and you aren't helping equality at fucking all.

Do you know what the #YesAllWomen movement has in common with the current uproar about the US trading Gitmo prisoners for a POW who may or may not have been a deserter? I assure you, there IS a commonality here.

COMPASSION. EMPATHY. SYMPATHY. RESPECT. Specifically, the utter LACK of compassion, empathy or sympathy displayed by individual and the "mob" right now.

This is more than a common courtesy issue: this is a significant public inability or refusal to bother thinking, even for a single instant, how the person being attacked might feel.

Yes, that absolutely applies to both #YesAllWomen and the backlash against it. It also applies to the fight women face in places like Afghanistan and India where the threat of attack, rape, and death is a very real and constant thing. It applies in places like Saudi Arabia where women are legally considered children. It applies in the Sudan where men and women can be killed for being the wrong religion. It applies in Uganda where a gay couple can be murdered legally for who they love. Anytime a society sees a group of people as sub-human, property, or less-than-equal in any way that society gives permission to cruelty. Period.

So what about this POW all over the news? I saw today President Obama will not apologize for bringing him home. Good. He shouldn't. He did the right thing. I don't give a hoot whether you voted for President Obama or not: the man enforced a basic Military value, a basic American value even, in bringing home a soldier languishing for FIVE YEARS in terrorist custody.

And yet, that man's hometown has been attacked by an incensed mob for planning a welcome-home party. A welcome home party the town has held annually since the Sergeant was captured as a "bring him home" party, which is now cancelled. That man's parents have been attacked in the media, called terrorist sympathizers, called traitors and worse. Why?  Because the dad said he wouldn't shave his beard until his son was home. Because his dad tried through Twitter to get the Taliban to release his son. Because they loved their son, who was held against his will by deadly people in a situation that could result in long-term torture or his death. What parent wouldn't fight to get their kid back?

I don't give a flying fuck whether that kid was attempting to desert or just out for a pee when he got captured. I don't know how he was captured. I don't know what was going on in his unit or during his tour. Experts are currently battling it out publicly whether he "deserved" to come home and if he's responsible for other soldiers' deaths. That's a military matter for the military court to determine: NOT the court of armchair quarterbacks squawking over each other for ratings and political clout. It's really so disheartening and disgusting. I didn't live through five years of captivity by the enemy. I DON'T KNOW WHAT HE WENT THROUGH. Ultimately, the media is so intent on demonizing this man and his family they've utterly lost the point of the whole situation. Criminal or not, he belongs in his home country, even if that's for review of his former actions. It's up to his military to determine wrongdoing and mete out punishment or not: that has no bearing on whether a US soldier should be left to rot in a POW prison. Period.

And you know what, Fox News Media people and other trolls? It's ok to let those parents celebrate the fact that their son is alive and back on US soil. It's ok for them to be happy his ordeal at the hands of the enemy is over. It's ok for them to celebrate their son is alive. And if it's discovered later that he should serve time for desertion or anything else, at least he's back in the US.

I firmly believe if you want to follow the "be the change you want to see in the world" you are responsible for fostering the improvements. Call it paying something forward. Call it protecting someone from bullying, or calling out someone (respectfully) on their shitty behavior when it happens and saying that's not acceptable. I'm a huge introvert. I avoid people often and generally prefer not to be bothered. If I'm able to think about what it might be like in someone else's shoes and have basic respect for people as human beings, it's not that goddamned difficult.

Will it backfire on you sometimes? Absofuckinglutely. Does that matter? Not even a little bit. What if that one moment of kindness stops someone from killing themselves that day? What if it stops a kid from feeling alone and rejected?

Will kindness and compassion stop homicidal rampages, or rapes, or child killers or molestations? No. As a realist, of course I know it won't. There will always be evil and suffering in the world: nature is balance, and that means there's good AND bad out there. But ineffectual mob attacks, online and in-person bullying, unharnessed lashing-out anger, and selfish indifference to those around you only perpetuates the bad, and that is creating negative change in your surroundings.

Nothing improves a relationship, a community, any group of people faster than kindness and respect. Period.

I challenge you to do a single act of kindness for someone today. I don't care if it's buying the person's coffee behind you in the Starbucks drive through or mowing a neighbor's lawn. I don't care if it's reaching out to a friend to say hello and that you miss them. I don't care if it's cleaning the house so your spouse or parent doesn't have to. Small acts of kindness add up and are easily repeated. If we're going to spread an emotion like a virus the way trolls and media spread nastiness, make it an effort to spread compassion and respect.

Compassion. Empathy. Sympathy. All definitions from www.dictionary.com.

com·pas·sion

/kəmˈpæʃən/ Show Spelled [kuhm-pash-uhn]   

noun

1. a feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another who is stricken by misfortune, accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering.

em·pa·thy

/ˈɛmpəθi/ Show Spelled [em-puh-thee]   

noun

1. the intellectual identification with or vicarious experiencing of the feelings, thoughts, or attitudes of another.

sym·pa·thy

/ˈsɪmpəθi/ Show Spelled [sim-puh-thee]  

1. harmony of or agreement in feeling, as between persons or on the part of one person with respect to another.

2. the harmony of feeling naturally existing between persons of like tastes or opinion or of congenial dispositions.

3. the fact or power of sharing the feelings of another, especially in sorrow or trouble; fellow feeling, compassion, or commiseration.

I'm Done SHOULDing All Over Myself

Screw resolutions.

I've spent my entire life hearing "should" and some variation of "ought to (generally it's "otta").

You should lose weight. You should eat better. You should write more. You should pay more attention. You should be sexier. You should be more professional. You shouldn't act so crazy. You should be more fun. You shouldn't hide. You shouldn't be an introvert. You should move to the city for a better job. You should buy this. You should be more open. You should trust "me" (from various people, both romantic and not, both betrayers and not).

Worse than that...I've been SHOULDING all over myself for years. I'm sick of it.

I should lose weight. I should get in shape. I should be prettier. I should wear makeup. I shouldn't sleep in. I shouldn't game/watch all-day-bad-horror-movie-marathons. I need to save more money, I need to spend more time doing "X". I should eat my vegetables, I should be vegan. I should eat meat. I should clean my house (ARGH!). I should do laundry (sigh). I should feed my dogs (ok, that one's necessary and the boys are quite vocal if I'm more than 10 minutes after feeding time, so no real danger of missing it).

SHOULDING is messy. And stupid...and it doesn't actually do the psyche any good.

When I'm SHOULD on (by myself or others), I'm given an obligation. I'm imposed upon. I'm not choosing. SHOULDING is the act of imposing values or actions instead of CHOOSING those values or actions. I'm done shoulding on myself, and I'm done allowing others to should all over me (because seriously, that's gross).

That doesn't mean I don't do many of the SHOULDs anyway: I actually enjoy a lot of them. I feel calmer when my house isn't a disaster. I feel better and have more energy when I work out regularly (particularly when I do something I think is fun). My brainpan has needs to express via writing and calm via meditation. I (GASP) LIKE vegetables. 

The freedom and responsibility of choice is far more fun, exciting, and fulfilling. Therefore, I have no resolutions, because resolutions are just SHOULDs in devious disguise.

I choose to work, because I generally like getting a paycheck, I like the environment, and I'm pretty decent at the work itself.

I choose to spend time with friends, family, my husband because I LOVE them all and (even when I'm lazy and cranky) I'd rather be with them than anywhere else.

I choose to eat better and work out because I FEEL better when I do so, and in doing so I improve my physical appearance, my creativity, and my psyche.

I choose to do yoga and meditate, for the obvious (and a few less obvious) benefits.

I choose to write more, because working at it is rewarding and I want to nurture that talent toward my ultimate goals of how I want my life to work. My first book is about half done...and I greatly anticipate the accomplishment (and ROCKING celebration) I'm going to have

I choose to do household chores more often because I sneeze less and feel less anxious when my house isn't a disaster.

I choose to stop SHOULDING and change my mindset to embracing opportunities and choice, even when the choice is the unpopular one.

My gut isn't broken: I choose to listen.

Writing about Writing (WARNING! Han Pictures!)

Thank you, all of you who encouraged me to keep going. Honestly, my couple-week-hiatus wasn't a plea for attention or validation, nor was it to wonder whether the person in question was right: I KNOW he's wrong. That's not the point. HE'S not the point. Ultimately, that friendship was killed by an entirely different subject (after all, I may be pretty damn flexible and accepting, but there are a few topics on which I do not bend).

HE doesn't matter in terms of this blog, because ultimately it's my blog. If no one reads it at all, I'd still write it (which is the #1 reason the premise behind the comment was in error: I don't write to publish. I write for me. If I entertain or inspire argument/thought/reflection, well neat. But it's not my reason for writing).

I took a couple weeks to really think about where this blog started (with NO readers other than very occasionally my husband, who already knew all the stories) to where it is now, and what I want to do with it. I DO have a quick temper and at least enough bare minimum skills with words to cause harm if I'm not careful. I also have a responsibility to myself to balance editing (for the protection of subjects as well as for clear writing) and self-censorship.

Here's the deal, I originally intended this blog to be about my random silly life, and that's how it's going to remain.

That means some days, I'm feeling like this:

I am SO GODDAMN HAPPY!
 (That's right, my nephew Han is FUCKING ADORABLE. SUCK IT, Prince George!)

And some days, maybe not so much.


DUDE! I'm not sure WTF just happened, but I am SORELY unimpressed. STOP LAUGHING!
(In case you're wondering, his mom gave him the squeeze tube of baby food. OF COURSE he squeezed it...and was slightly horrified at the result. Or, at all of us laughing at him...)

I suppose the best way to put my final decisions on manipulation is: I see a clear difference between attempting to manipulate someone versus entertaining and/or openly influencing someone. I won't lie to get someone to do what I want them to do. I won't arrange situations and people to try to change the outcome.

But I WILL report when situations are funny as hell (or, as is often the case with me, utterly fucked up). And I won't hide when depression hits, or when I'm particularly emotional about something.

So yeah, I'm back.

Now, I'm off to put the Cone of Shame on Chewy. Sigh. One more week of this hell and my house goes back to normal. Just in time for Renaissance Festival to start.

I could do a whole series on THOSE dramas...after the Townhome Twits are finished. Next one tomorrow! 

A Snippet of Paganism - Feel Free to Skip This Post

So, I read a LOT of Spirituality, Religion, and Mythology texts: Wiccan, Pagan, Christian (although the "begat" section of the Bible is irritating, and the King James version is just terrible...it was heavily edited for "decency" and there are much better, more complete, versions out there), Hindu, Ancient Egyptian, Sumerian, Celtic...yeah. It's a long list people.

Anyway, I found the equivalent of the Wiccan Rede* or the 10 Commandments* when reading about Norse Paganism* (there are a few varieties) the other day. I thought it was interesting...so I'm sharing. Like I said, if this bores the crap out of you or offends, feel free to ignore this post. Townhome Twits returns tomorrow.

Disclaimer: I'm in no way, shape, or form any sort of expert on Heathenism, Odinism, Astaru, or any other Norse based Paganism (or any religion, really). These are my current interpretations: if you ARE an expert, feel free to elaborate. I'm always interested.

And so: the "Nine Noble Virtues" (with my personal...severely boiled-down for space...definitions added):

1. Courage: Everyone is scared. Many people allow fear to rule their actions, instead of pushing through the fear and fighting it back, and so they stay stuck. "Luck will often find a man, should his courage hold." Bulwyf, The 13th Warrior
2. Truth: I actually see Truth and Honor as hand-in-hand virtues: Honesty in words and intentions is important: a liar is untrustworthy.   
3. Honor: If you give your word, keep it. Act with honorable intent and treat others respect. Even when it's really fucking difficult. Honor is in actions and results, the way Truth is measured in words and results.
4. Fidelity: Loyalty to your family (and I mean the loosest and most important definition of family: the family you CHOOSE. That can include blood relations or not: the people deeply important to you are family).
5. Discipline: Control of yourself (physical, emotional, rational) prevents others from controlling you, but it takes consistency and work.
6. Hospitality: NEVER turn away someone in need. You don't know when you'll be on the one needing. Cautious generosity and kindness are often returned in kind, and you never know who that person is that needs it.
7. Industriousness: Nothing in this world is free: that which seems free has a cost somewhere. Work. Work your ass off. CONTRIBUTE somehow to the tribe. Laziness gets nothing done and provides no value to yourself or your tribe (and I use "tribe" loosely here, as it could mean your family, your friends, your coworkers, your society, your country, your Earth).
8. Self-Reliance: YOU are responsible for your survival and success. Period.
9. Perseverance: You can give up, after you die. Pretty simple, really.

I actually think quite a lot about these 9 virtues. They make sense to me in many ways (although I do have some trouble with #5 and #7...laziness is a personal vice of mine...sigh), and combine well with the idea that the energy you expend is what you'll get back (spread kindness, you'll likely see it returned. Don't believe me? Smile at everyone you see tomorrow and say hello).

That led me to the Astaru Folk Assembly's variation of the Nine Virtues (also found on the Wiki link), with which I agree completely EXCEPT for #9.

1. Strength is better than weakness
2. Courage is better than cowardice
3. Joy is better than guilt
4. Honour is better than dishonour
5. Freedom is better than slavery
6. Kinship is better than alienation
7. Realism is better than dogmatism
8. Vigor is better than lifelessness
9. Ancestry is better than universalism  Not for me. I think humans are the same everywhere: there are compassionate ones, nasty one, selfish ones, beautiful ones, ugly ones, generous ones, violent ones, peaceful ones, dramatic ones, practical ones...and every other description you can probably think of, everywhere in the world

This post isn't some big revelation, nor is it an attempt to convert anyone. I think the similarities between world religions are fascinating, and so I shared. Feel free to leave opinions in the comments.



*Yes. I used Wikipedia as my sources. Why? Because it is non-religious and as equally objective (and really, as fact-based as possible when looking at 3 completely different religions) as I could find. Feel free to research further if you choose: there about 10 quadrizillion websites and book on Wicca, Paganism, Norse Paganism, and Christianity out there. And that's probably a low estimate.

Updated: Feminism: No, Really

fem·i·nism/ˈfɛm əˌnɪz əm/  [fem-uh-niz-uh m]
noun
1. the doctrine advocating social, political, and all other rights of women equal to those of men.
2. ( sometimes initial capital letter ) an organized movement for the attainment of such rights for women.
3. feminine character.

Recently my friend Superbetsy blogged, in a wonderfully snarky way, about cosplay at various geeky conventions. A commenter took issue with the subject as "unfeminist" and irrationally attacked the post based on...well, stupid. Phenomenally, remarkably, blindly stupid. She went on and on about how basic female grooming (plucking eyebrows, shaving legs, wearing makeup, etc) only fed the patriarchal inequality in this country.

Fucking REALLY? You judgemental, inexperienced, self-righteous IDIOT.

Instead of standing together, "feminists" of this ilk attack any woman who enjoys being female...never mind that same female may make significantly more money than her spouse, volunteer at a shelter, and help other women build themselves up. "Feminists" like the commenter put the same "ist" into feminism that goes with "race," "sex," "age," or any other reason to exclude a group with bigotry.

All over the world, women are subjected to various sorts of domestic violence. Women are sold as sex slaves. Women are prevented from receiving education, medical care, dignity, and in many cases life.

• In India, a woman was gang raped to the extent her attackers RIPPED OUT PIECES OF HER INTESTINE. Yeah. That didn't make US news outlets, but that's why she's still in critical condition. She was on a supposedly safe bus. With her boyfriend.
• In Afghanistan, a pre-teen was shot by the Taliban for the horrific crime of her "dishonorable" desire to GET AN EDUCATION.
• In the United States:
• a college student daring to speak up for the right to control her own reproductive system is called a slut publicly by media and politicians in an attempt to shame her into silence.
• The same politicians try to say rape isn't real if a woman gets pregnant, that pregnancy can't happen if it was REALLY rape.
• A girlfriend and mother is killed by her cheating boyfriend for the uppity crime of saying he can't fuck other women and be with her. He then killed himself, and there are SHRINES of mourning for HIM. Because he was an NFL player...and a selfish murderer who deprived his daughter of her mother over a goddamn argument.

Yeah. Let's talk about what feminism really is, shall we?

Feminism isn't about whether or not wearing makeup, plucking your eyebrows, wearing high heels, trying to attract a member of the same or opposite sex makes you more or less a woman. It's about equality, and enjoying that I'm a woman doesn't change my belief that the sexes should be treated equally and women shouldn't have to face degradation, torture, and violence just for having a vagina. Feminism means if a woman chooses to fill a traditional role she has the right to do so, just as if a woman chooses to get an advanced education and become an entrepreneur she has the right to do that too.

I'm not concerned whether my looks, my choice in footwear, clothes or grooming feed a patriarchal society. I'm concerned about important things that will CHANGE society, like making safety, dignity, respect, equality, education, and opportunity available for women AND men.

Is it idealistic? Of course it is: that's a long road all over the world. But it instantly pisses me off to hear self-righteous bitches judge other women for their choices while there are so many out there that don't HAVE those choices.  Because the "ist" in feminist can all to easily forget that if equality is what we're after, men are equal to us, too.

Updated: in Italy, the Church says it's YOUR fault for your husband beating you. If you cooked/cleaned/wore differnt clothes and were totally dependent on your husband, he wouldn't beat you. Between this article and the Pope's recent assertions that people who "choose" to be gay are denying their humanity (thereby implying GLBT people are less human), I wonder if the Vatican isn't purposefully trying to alienate people. Italians, by the way, are livid over this "if you acted better he wouldn't beat you" crap.

Back to Hell, Demon!

I was observed recently as being...inconsistent...between who I appear to be and who I am. It's a fair observation given by one of the slight handful of people in the world who know the real me, and 100% true in the context of the conversation. This post will likely be long and self-indulgent attempt to reconcile a few of the inconsistencies with bare, painful truth. Feel free to stop reading this and go back to a funny post here.

I AM inconsistent: I present a certain face with certain qualities I admire to the world: strength, self-confidence, surety, humor...all the qualities I think are valued by others. All the things I'd like to be all the time. On rare occasions when I'm feeling particularly good I AM the way I present. On those days I'm funny, clever, happy with myself and my accomplishments so far and enthusiastically passionate about life. In all honesty, those days are treasured rarities in my universe that I'm trying to learn to allow more often. I'd prefer they be the norm, after all.
Most of the time I use my public face as a combination of shield and bolster. It's actually fairly exhausting. Emotional energy is a well, and eventually that well runs low, the flow becomes silty and clogged, and I slow down. I am a person who refreshes the well with periods of relaxing alone-time (books, Lifetime TV, walks, repeated viewings of Gladiator...you know, silly mindless things) not by being with others. I'm actually pretty envious of all you folk who get energized and excited about parties and social situations. I NEED that bit of time every week to sustain. 

The real person underneath is...sigh...well hidden. This causes an issue if I let anyone in past a certain point, because ultimately that person discovers I've been untruthful about who I really am all along, and that's probably unfair. How can I be enough and loved just as I am if you can't see what I REALLY am until it's too late? Ah, conundrums that feed the demons.

It's something I've been working on for a long time, actually, when I have enough in my emotional well to work on myself. Sometimes, the well just fucking dries up. I've worked on myself enough to USUALLY be able to head the bastard off at the pass before he weasels his way into my brain like a fucking Khan earworm. Sometimes I fail.

Today I've failed. Since it's the Holidays and that's likely a part of the depression heavily holding me down, I envision it as this:


Holiday cheer my ASS. I'm coming for you...



Last night the same someone said "I wish I could go back and find the bastard(s) who made you feel so worthless and ..." well, the graphically violent nature of the comment probably doesn't need to be repeated. It was one of those things most people would likely be horrified and offended by, but was an utterly sweet thing to say to me.

I know where my self-loathing comes from. I know where the unworthiness comes from. I also know the reason I'm still here after those feelings hit me in wave after wave is something my dad said to me once when I was really young: suicide is the most selfish thing you can do to those who love you. All the bullying, all the nastiness, all the isolation that fed my genetic pre-disposition to depression is tempered by that statement, because I've always been more concerned with others' feelings than my own. It's another point of contention between me and the few insiders who know me best (I don't take care of myself if someone else needs me, which is stupid and harmful). My point is: I'm not in suicidal danger. I'm just not taking sufficient care of myself to avoid the hit right now.

The Bloggess posts often about depression, how it lies and how hard it is to live with repeated bouts. I so utterly agree, but I don't have any answers about how to successfully beat the bastard down either. Knowing WHY he arrives doesn't always give me enough to defeat him. The past few months have been so utterly emotionally exhausting I haven't been able to refill my well, which left me open to that sneaky bastard. And so I force myself to get out of bed and drive to work and hope I can stop any pressing tears (yeah, Scandahoovians don't cry without red, splotchy faces and puffy eyes) and bury myself in work for the day.   Only today is a no-meeting-not-much-to-do day and the conversation I had last night was intense enough that I can't push it aside until I'm home. Today, I'm trying to STOP thinking about all the evil lying shit depression says in my head and concentrate on rediscovering what makes me feel valuable, worthy, fulfilled, passionate and happy.  

My friend Superbetsy sent me this about depression today: The bloggess calls depression a lying bastard. When it tries to take me down, I lie right back to it. I put on a shit ton of makeup and sing loudly and look at pictures of puppies. If it can tell us falsehoods, we can do the same. BECAUSE IM A GREAT SINGER, DAMMIT!

This post isn't any sort of request for validation, compliments, or anything of the sort. I've written about this many times before privately and it's done nothing: maybe taking the risk of putting it out here will make some difference in my heart. If not, at least any reader also battling that bastard will know they're not alone in the fight.

I am Immodest and Uppity.

It took me a few days to blog about this because the whole situation just utterly pissed me off. Bear with me.

Recently some jackass on Facebook posted a meme that said (paraphrased, because I refuse to spread that meme around): "Dear Girls, If you don't want the attention of pigs, don't dress immodestly. - Real Men."

None of my friends resposted it, but in one of those convoluted "friend of a friend" things FB likes to pull, I saw a pretty vehement comment my friend Heather left on someone's wall and was curious. Yes, it's stupid and falls under "meaningless facebook bullshit" that I should've left alone: I don't know this guy (although he's apparently part of the Renaissance Festival community up here, so we've likely crossed paths before) and I can't fight every dumbass who posts sexist shit, right? Well I'm not always smart enough to stay out of trouble. I agreed with Heather's comments and pointed out a few things of my own, and he told me to DROP IT. So it's ok to post something demeaning and sexist on a public form but it's not ok to opine about it. Alrighty then.

Call me an immodest, uppity woman but I'm going to talk about it anyway, jerk.

1) "Dear Girls." Does the creator of this crap want a woman, or a girl? Addressing it to girls instead of women implies that "real men" don't want a "real woman" who can stand up for herself, take care of herself, and deserves the respect of an equal. Instead, it is a condescending power-grab by someone who needs to immediately put women in their place as "mere" girls who need guidance. Am I reading too much? Maybe, but it strikes a chord with me anyway.

2) The behavior of pigs. Calling a man who treats a woman like a piece of meat, like she's his property, like she's only a sex object infantalizes men AND demeans women. Men are responsible for their OWN feelings and actions, and should be called out on shitty behavior instead of dismissing it as "men are pigs." Grow the hell up and act like a person, not a rutting animal.

3) Immodest. Oh good gods, the reaction this one gives me is just boiling over. First of all, what gives this jackass the right to decide what exactly is "Immodest" dress OR behavior? Does he control the way women express their sexuality, their beauty, or their feelings? No, and he has NO RIGHT TO. What one woman considers modest another may consider risque, and vice versa. What one woman considers sexy another may consider frumpy. But this goes SO far beyond clothing.

Modesty/Immodesty is a control used to shame women into allowing their sexuality to be ruled over by male-dominated society. Too radical feminist for you? Well, that's the way it is...if you need examples: Victorian table skirts were invented to keep men from being "inflamed" by legs that would remind them of a woman's legs. The SlutWalk movement started whn cops told female college students not to dress slutty in order to not get raped, as though clothes would stop a rapist. The hair wraps/veils/etc insisted upon by various Abrahamic religions SO MEN WON'T BE TEMPTED by a woman's beauty.

Let's not even get into the recent "war on women" examples in American politics. Really...that's a post of its own.

Modesty/Immodesty is a way to blame women for the shitty behavior of some men: a rapist wouldn't have gotten you if you hadn't worn a skirt (or jeans that outline your shape, or a tank top, or a mumu for crying out loud). You wouldn't get whistled at on the street if you weren't hot. Men wouldn't grab your ass/boobs/etc if you didn't have them out in public displayed in that t-shirt/tank top/bikini.

As advanced as America is on the rights of her citizens, we still have quite a ways to go before we get to social equality. Woman are different than men: I don't dispute that. We're often raised with different mores, often deal with things differently, and often are both stuck in "approved" roles. I support women who choose to fill a traditional role because that's what they're called to do. I also support women who choose to be CEOs, astronauts, scientists, even sex workers as long as that's what they WANT to do.

What I don't accept is a culture that allows "boys will boys" behavior while shaming women using sex. I don't accept that men can't control themselves in the presence of a woman. I don't accept that a REAL MAN will treat a woman like meat because of what she's wearing or how she acts, because REAL MEN treat women like respected equals regardless of their dress/wealth/class/station in life.

THAT'S a real man. I know they're out there. I married one.