Ubuntu

Recently we had a Presidential election. I asked my son if he planned to vote. He, like many other 20 somethings, replied, “why would I participate in a system where I have no voice? What’s the point, if the outcome doesn’t affect my life personally?” Although I see the point of his argument, my reply is, “because we are all in this together, and we can’t make changes if we accept the status quo!”

There is something worrisome about our future. We are raising children who are given whatever they want, whenever they want it. Not only are they given everything, nothing is asked OF them. They are not required to DO anything. When one isn’t asked to accomplish anything, one grows up believing they are not CAPABLE. Our dependent children are no ones fault but our own. Perpetuating the helplessness of a future society. This is the opposite of what just 2 generations ago believed. They thought we, as individuals working together, could change anything… Make a difference in our society. But somewhere along the line, what changed? Individual values? Culture? Everything is culture. The “self” is more valued than the “group” in American culture. Individualism is revered and youth is idealized.

There was an anthropologist who had been studying the habits of culture of a remote African tribe. He had been working in the village for quite some time and the day before he was to go, he put together a gift basket filled with delicious fruits from around the region and wrapped it in ribbon. He placed the basket under a tree and then he gathered up the children in the village. The man drew a line in the dirt, looked at the children, and said, “When I tell you to start, run to the tree and whoever gets there first will win the basket of the fruit.” When he told them to run, they all took each other’s hands and ran together to the tree. Then they sat together around the basket and enjoyed their treat as a group. The anthropologist was shocked. He asked why they would all go together when one of them could have won all the fruits for themselves? A young girl looked up at him and said, “How can one of us be happy if all the other ones are sad?”

Ubuntu is the African word meaning, “I am because we are.” Our humanity is caught up in our connection with those around us. As Americans, we are taught the opposite. Being “the one with the most toys” does not insure happiness. The 1% are no less, anxious or depressed, lonely or unhealthy. There is a spiritual disconnection in the way we are socialized to achieve individual success over the success of our tribe. One way I stay connected to this concept of humility as a way of life, is by waking every morning and asking my Higher Power, “Show me how to be of service today.” I have some days that are better than others because I am human, after all, but it’s all in the intention. Your perception becomes your reality. I truly believe this. So today, I will practice gratitude, compassion and remind myself (and my son) that we are known by our actions, the way we treat others, and not by what we own or the contents of our bank accounts.

Just some thoughts

I went to the library today with the intention of bringing home a book on market research, or some topic of self improvement. I found myself reading poetry. As I started stacking books into my arms about “the writer within” and “the existence of God” I realized that this is the perfect analogy of my life. Searching for something, but not having a clear idea of what that thing is… Taking a path, only to change that path when it gets boring or uncomfortable. I stood in the aisle listening to the tick of the air conditioner, the buzz of the fluorescent light bulbs, and the smell of old books. I had new insight and a revelation… I accept myself for who I am and the paths I have chosen. 

The Search

The first time I rode my bike farther than I was allowed to go… Was invigorating and scary… And I couldn’t wait to do it again.
I grew up a people pleaser, but always pushing limits… Acting before thinking.
Searching… Looking for my salvation, in drugs or a man or a woman… In music, books, experiences…
Something to save me from this void.
I married, joined a cult, had a child, became a mother… I became aware of an inner strength that gave me perseverance and courage.
But I kept searching…
I loved women, climbed mountains, rafted down rivers, drove miles… Many miles as far as I could go… But I always ended up with myself, my thoughts, my feelings, my needs, and my pain. Forever haunted by an emptiness…
Will I ever fill that void, connect so deeply that I no longer feel alone? Is it even possible or fair to ask these questions of another human being?
The joy of life comes not in human relationships, but in the human experience… Nature, risk, service, compassion, fear, and love…

Sent from my iPhone

Antisocial media

Have you ever posted a profile? It takes the place of actually talking to someone about yourself. I guess it’s not so much as information about you, as it is more what You think about yourself. The ironic part is… Its not really who you are at all.
Communication is like 80% nonverbal, so how is this even possible? Who am I? I am a human being who is trying to be happy, and hopefully share that happiness with someone else. I make mistakes. I don’t always make the right choices, and sometimes I even fail. But I am strong and sensitive and want very much to make people smile. Sometimes I fall short and I try to right my wrong… But only if I’m given the chance.
So, my profile is this. Not always clean and tidy, but real. That’s all I can promise.

Saturday job

I have a Saturday job, cutting hair, that is sometimes exhausting, but fulfills a need I have to connect with strangers. Today an older man sat down in my chair, dusty work clothes and disheveled gray hair. He said that he could, “hear his mother’s voice telling him it was time to get a haircut.” He shared boyhood stories of growing up in Cary, NC and collecting eggs from his grandfather’s chickens, how kids today don’t know how to work hard, and he told me about his business selling mulch and Christmas trees. He was simple, hard working, and smelled of sweat. I am grateful for this moment.

 

This is 41

Every night I have wine alone, wake up and have coffee alone, go to work and eat lunch alone, come home and make dinner alone, feed pets and a teenager who is never pleased… then I have wine alone.

I talk to strangers all day long. Everyday. Listening to their stories, what makes them tick and what they need from me to help them with their lives… Sometimes I sell them bottles, or potions (no I am not a witch doctor). Sometimes I just listen and smile and they feel heard. I am friendly and make a point to learn peoples’ names because people matter to me…

And then I drive home alone, make dinner alone, feed pets and a teenager who is never pleased… then I have wine alone.

Day Off

I work six days a week, as lots of single mom’s do, and today is my big day off. Fall in the South is beautiful, and I am in awe of the magnificent colors of the trees. Today it is 45 degrees and raining, and since I am a Southern California girl at heart, I do not dare leave the house today. I gave myself a facial, complete with hydrating mask and a body scrub, then oiled up my delicate skin and put my sweats back on (that’s known as lounge wear in The OC). I did some reading, (working on my parenting skills) am am focusing on being grateful for my health and the fact that I have a job.

I miss being near the woman I love, but am glad that I have things to look forward to… visits, phone calls, Skype. My grandpa lived to be 103 years old, and he always said that what keeps you young is having something to look forward to. I’m not sure he was talking about Skype messages, but you get the idea…

My problem? To me, a day off that is inactive, is a day off of stagnation, not relaxation. I’m like a kid who says, “I don’t want to take a  nap, I’m not tired! Entertain me! I don’t want to play alone!” 

Maybe I never learned “self-soothing” techniques as a baby? Maybe I’m extremely extroverted and I get energy from people? Maybe I’m afraid to be alone? Afraid of what my head will come up with? Maybe I really just want to be distracted from something… I remember a therapist telling me once, “Emotions are not good or bad, they just ARE… and they come and go, they do not define you.” 

Well, today I feel like I am treading water. Just maintaining and not sure how to get to the side before I drown… just remembering to breathe, maybe lay my head back and float a moment… if I close my eyes, I am transported… and the sun is shining on my face… my muscles relax and the tension is gone. I have no control and I don’t need to control… just let go. Suffering is what it is to be human. Pain is a gift, I know, because it tells us to pay attention. Whether it’s physical or emotional, it causes us to be aware. I am not used to just sitting with something. I’m impulsive, a woman of action, but I am at a loss for energy or answers today… And like this rain, this heavy feeling will pass…

 

 

The Path

I remember sitting on my grandma’s green, shag rug as a child, about 9 years old. I found a television channel with a man who had a long beard and wore flowers around his neck. He spoke very softly and slowly about things I didn’t quite understand- I was intrigued. Later, I discovered that he was the Mahareshi Mahesh Yogi, which meant nothing to me by name, but I knew I had found something special.

I was raised by a strong mother who took us to church each Sunday, while my father stayed home to watch tennis. We asked why HE didn’t have to go, and my mother replied, “I am not responsible for his salvation, only yours!” I thought that sounded like a lot of pressure, but then I asked, “How do we know we’re going to the RIGHT church?” Even with my limited awareness of the amount of different religions and denominations, I knew there were a lot of churches! She assured me that once we got to Heaven, we would not be punished for something out of our scope of knowledge. Mom was raised with NO religion and started going with friends as a teenager. Throughout her relationship and marriage to my dad, it gave her something to depend on outside of herself. My dad was raised in a strict Methodist family by a father who ruled with a harsh word and iron fist, and a mother who converted from Catholicism to a life where she could have a “personal relationship with her Lord and Savior.” Both of which gave my dad an excellent reason to rebel against this upbringing and did not choose either path. To this day, he refers to himself as a “Born Again Evolutionist.”

My brother and sister and I were always encouraged to be tolerant and open to other people’s ways of worship. At age 15, I chose to be baptized in the Baptist Church. I knew that I was guilty of “sin” and wanted to be cleansed. Pure and simple. I looked at God as a parent who ultimately loved me, but decided what was right and wrong for my life. In high school I struggled with the guilt of having feelings for other women, and I began reading books on the existence of God, the energy or spirit in all of nature, and the concept of reason and ethics. Yeah, I missed out on a lot of Pep Rallies!

Eventually I started wearing stones around my neck and in my pockets, attending the Native American Indian Gatherings, and eating only foods that did not encourage a violent lifestyle. I stopped coloring my hair (a huge sacrifice) and began studying nutrition. Unfortunately, for me, this was not enough… I still felt that there was something else out there for me. By the age of 22, I began visiting different churches regularly. I read the Book of Science and Health, the story of Bahaullah, the Life of Gandhi, the Life of Buddha, and the Bhagvagita. My sister and I were roommates at the time and she attended the singles ward of the Mormon Church. I started going with her because I valued her choices and opinions- even if I didn’t always like her advice. I read The Book of Mormon and fell in love with the security and values it provided. I married and vowed to be a “good Mormon wife” because THAT would make me complete. At 25, I felt that I was no longer flailing about in this life of uncertainty. I had found answers.

Four years later, I had become unhappy with the answers I had been given. I felt oppressed, belittled, and subjugated. I could not logically go back to the “born again” life I grew up in… I felt tired. Not lost, not alone… just tired. I chose NOT to search. Not to move along the path any longer. At the prompting of a friend, I read Siddhartha, and was struck by the similarities of the seemed “struggle” along the path. I had also questioned and committed, but I lacked community. I came across McLennan’s book, Finding Your Religion, and it gave me perspective.

I have come to realize the necessity for community. Not only to commit to being ON a path, but to accept that it will not always be lined with flowers and trees. It may, at times, get rocky or be overgrown with thorns or weeds… but we must still move upward toward the top of the mountain. I don’t need to have the answers given to me regarding every aspect of my spirituality. I find God in little things… I want my son to know that we are more than our bodies, more than our ability to think and reason; we are also a soul that needs to be fed. This can only happen along the path.

“that the powerful play goes on, and YOU must contribute a verse…” what will your verse be?

When I have made impulsive decisions in my life, held back feelings and conversations because of guilt and shame, I have always said to myself, “oh, just another chapter in this book of life.” I literally see life that way! The Childhood chapter, the Rebellious Teenager chapter, the Mormon wife chapter, the Lesbian mom chapter, the escape to North Carolina chapter… if we don’t take chances in life, if we never know defeat, we can never truly know success, glory, happiness:) Some people like the merry-go-round, but it just goes around… no surprises. I like the roller coaster, up and down, scary and sometimes you stop breathing, white knuckles and sweaty palms! But screaming for joy makes me feel alive…

Nazi Tucson… it’s a DRY hate…

 

When my son was little, I would drive my son to school in the morning, then I’d switch the radio station from Radio Disney (I know, painful) to KPFK 90.7 to get my fill of what indecency is happening in the world today… Today I was not disappointed because there was a plethora of injustice just waiting to be heard.

 Living and growing up in Southern California, we are accustomed to sharing our neighborhoods with undocumented people… families… who have come here seeking a better way of life. My great grandfather came to this country from Italy for the same reason. He worked any job he could get, sent money back home, and eventually sent for his family to join him. He was a “wop” (without papers) and he deserved the same freedom to thrive that others born on this soil received.

 I believe that making it “illegal” to be undocumented has some serious flaws. Immigration laws don’t need to be enforced, they need to be changed! People need to be able to become registered! The crimes committed at the boarders in Arizona, and others, are not taking place because they are Mexican, but because they are poor. I get so pissed off about “white privilege” in this country and the blindness that white people have about it! It is the same as “heterosexual privilege” and “male privilege” and they are the ones making the laws! Wake up people!

 I am afraid for residents in Arizona… that they will not only be asked to commit racial profiling, but that it will be REQUIRED and they will be prosecuted if they don’t cooperate! I am also afraid for us… if we don’t speak up for others? Who will speak up for us?

 Maybe we should just turn the radio off… and go back to suburbia… and listen to Radio Disney? I choose to fight.