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Hello friends.
To say “it’s been a while” would be at minimum, disingenuous. I feel like I should begin more along the lines of “it’s been more than two years since my last confession”. As I sit here drinking my morning coffee on an average Sunday, please understand that I’ve never forgotten about you, nor have I abandoned writing.
It’s been hard, these last two years, to do much of anything outside of survival mode. However, I’ve been taking a class recently on self empowerment, and while digging deep into my core values, writing was quietly waiting for me to pick it back up. Since I recognized this, I’ve gained momentum from starting a collaborative project with my mom. She was visiting us from the other side of the country and we had a finite amount of time to start and made excellent headway. But it felt good to sort of stretch my legs, writing with her, while remembering how much I love this form of communication. I’ve picked up journaling once again, and now, I’m back here.
Writing has been therapeutic in many ways, but also truly difficult. There are a myriad of thoughts, feelings, and unknowns that have prevented me from coming back here, at least with regularity, for more than 5 years. I’ve existed, but struggled to live fully, due to unprocessed or buried traumas. I’ve barely scratched the surface of sorting through all that, but I’m also done feeling stuck. Life has thrown some wild pitches, and I keep swinging for the fence. I’m just not connecting with the ball and I’m not going to chase after it.
Since the closure of my business, separation and divorce from my second husband, I’ve moved across the country, moved houses several times, endured a lengthy and languishing pandemic and the after affects thereof, witnessed widespread protesting and violence against police brutality, against our own nation’s capital, against wars and genocide, against each other for our views, faiths, and political leanings. I’ve also had opportunities to learn and grow, become closer with my family, get married and buy a home with my husband, discover unknown depths of my capacity to love, support and cherish moments with my kids (bio and step), explore new communities and meet people who will be lifelong friends, drive long, introspective distances, and survive moments I genuinely believed would have been my last. A whole lot has happened in a little over 5 years.
We’ve all been collectively living through unprecedented times. We’ve all been dragging our asses through history in the making. It’s been real wild, and I think as much as our kids have struggled and lost during all of this, the adults carrying this weight have suffered greatly more than we realize. We are carrying the traumas of our own experiences and that of our kids (even if they’re not biologically yours, most of us have young ones in our lives).
All of this is to recap why I’ve been a ghost. I haven’t felt like I had something meaningful to contribute to the narrative, since there’s been so much fucking noise surrounding us. I’m simply trying to survive myself, with a swirling inside my brain hole. It’s been like a blender in there. Now, it’s a shit smoothie and I’m ready to pour it out. Strap in, kids. I am planning great things and will be back soon, and more regularly. I’m motivated and falling back in love with words, after being estranged for so very long.
Please subscribe if you’re interested in keeping up because I’ll be making some announcements in the coming weeks/months. Thank you for reading and I’ll catch you on the flip side (if you’re young, you probably don’t know that reference- look it up). Finally, this is my 201st post to the page. 🎉
As a Buddhist, we generally strive to follow the eight-fold noble path. Right Action is one of those folds. However, the word “right” in all of the eight folds is quite subjective and often difficult to really qualify.
For instance, fighting in a situation may very well be the right thing for a person to do in the moment, for fear of real danger. However, it may not be “legal”, which inherently isn’t “right” in the eyes of our judicial system. Besides the judgements, is that action still morally right? I’ve recognized that frequently, “moral” and “legal” are not aligned.
In the words of the great Stan Lee- every villain is the hero of their own story.
Fear and morality are parts of Right Action, in that, our morals and our fear reflexes very much shape our worlds as individuals, and our experiences in the world at large. It’s suffice to say, that absent these guides, people would also behave very differently, I believe.
For example: if we were not afraid of consequences, I feel there’d be many more instances of people making unhelpful or unwholesome choices in their lives. If many of us did not have clearly defined morals (whether spiritually based or not), we’d have a much more aggressive and violent world. That’s not to say “moral” people don’t do counterproductive and/or harmful things. Because they often do, largely from some semblance of moral superiority or self righteousness. I just think that we’d all be worse off, without morals and fear guiding the general populace.
I know that the question: who’s to say what’s “right”, is obviously unanswerable in general, but it does bear reflection. What is right for me isn’t going to be what’s right for someone else in all situations. The causes and conditions, as well as histories of each of us often make these choices very different for an individual. What’s greater still, is having to justify that choice to others.
I try to avoid calling things good or bad, as that comes from a place of judgement, and rarely am I qualified to lay down such a determination for people other than myself. I can certainly look back on my life and Cherry-pick the items I’ve decided from the future that are both good and bad. But even this type of reflection is not helpful. I’ve decided that something that IS helpful, at least for me is to look back on those situations as “I did the best I could with what I had”. I also view other people’s actions in this frame as often as possible, because it allows room for empathy, grace, and humility for myself and those around me. It makes me feel less beat up about my own choices, since life does that enough for me, without me beating myself up for bonehead decisions. I’ve made PLENTY of really dumb choices. However, I was doing what I thought was right (most of the time) in that moment, given the causes, conditions, and where I was on my journey.
Recently, I’ve been struggling with this whole concept of Right Action and also extending grace and empathy to others. Part of that is anger and another part is moral judgement. It’s really challenging to view someone as “doing the best they can” when they’re simply being assholes, because they can in a situation. I do genuinely believe that some people are mot operating from “their best”, but rather “control”, which is a hard place to land. It makes a hard pill harder to swallow. I want to believe that there is good in others and that they’re doing their best. Yet, they’re not showing their best selves and being hurtful, hateful, spiteful, and/or malicious on purpose, to inflict pain. This is not a world I want to live in. This isn’t a life I wish on anyone.
The problem is that I want to help, to the point of exhaustion. I want the world to be kind and gentle, just and equal. It simply isn’t. Part of this, I think is my own karmic lesson. Since I am a helper and a fixer, I get very much involved in things that I think I can be of service to. Then, I feel responsible and defeated when things aren’t as I feel they should be, or the outcome isn’t what my sense of justice desires. This is certainly something that I’ve been working on for many years and will likely continue to navigate. I have a distinct view of what is or is not justice, and when things fall outside those clearly defined spaces, I feel unbalanced and that the world is all wrong. For me, it is. I am a very grounded and definite person. The world doesn’t have to bend to me or my sense of morality, and frequently does the opposite. I’ve acknowledged this about myself, and hope someday to just let things go the way they will. Until then… I’m going to be trapped in this cage of righteousness and morality that I’ve constructed for myself. And that, my friends, is not only frustrating, but also the very definition of self-inflicted suffering. However, all I can do with certainty, is continue to operate from a place where I feel I’m doing the right thing, given the causes and conditions around me. It’s all any of us can do.
Until next time…
Please enjoy the musical stylings of A Flock of Seagulls.
I share this timeless ditty with those of my readers whom are of a similar ilk. Those of you in love with new wave and the likes of you whom, as adults, dream of hitting the bricks more than you ever did as a youngster.
My day dreams consist of freeing myself of this ugly world, and traveling amongst the waves. My dreams at night are focused on simply change and making the surroundings different from what they currently are. Both are indicative of not just my wanderlust, of which I have to a ridiculous degree, but also my desire to just not live on this planet anymore. If I were equipped to be an astronaut, I’d be out of this world by now.
There is currently too much sadness for me to accept. There is too much injustice for me to know how to manage. There is too much apathy for me to stomach. There is too much heartbreak to fathom. I am truly unable to take it all in and I feel like I’m on the verge of a complete breakdown.
That breakdown would not have been completely, though largely, due to most recent events. But rather, years of compounded fear, lack, frustration, hopelessness, and need. The murder of George Floyd 10 minutes from where I currently call home is just the sadness cherry on a pile of trash.
Don’t get me wrong, however. I have been nothing if not genuine when I say that I have a beautiful life. I’ve been fortunate enough to do many of the things I’ve set out to do, from the mundane to the miraculous. I love my life. I’ve grown to truly appreciate and LOVE the life I’ve been given. Hardships and all. Yet, lately, more than I have in probably two decades, find myself wanting to check out. Not suicide, just feeling overwhelmed with sadness and without hope that things around us will get better. I’m so ashamed of my country and the state I live in, and honestly, the state I’m from too. They all suck right now, and I’m bordering on hating them.
I am ashamed that America is rife with injustices that I’ll never ever comprehend. I was born a white female, so I acknowledge my privilege outright in that. I was not born to wealthy parents or family. Quite the opposite actually. But my skin color has not negatively impacted they way I walk about this earth. I’m grateful, with a tinge of guilt. I didn’t choose this life or body. And I feel as though I’ve fought on the right side of justice in all things. I have always stood up for the right things. Injustices I see everywhere. I have fought for women, people of color, marriage equality, and animals in every moment of activism. Even in unconscious moments, like while buying things, I buy fair trade and organic because the earth and it’s inhabitants all DESERVE better.
But I’m still guilty of being a privileged white female American. And I hate it. And I’m also grateful that I’m able to speak to power on behalf of others. I am and I do whenever possible.
I’m just so damn sick of fighting and seeing no results. People are still slaughtering other sentient beings every day. Human and animals alike are fodder to the larger structures and systems, and I’m exhausted and angry. I don’t want to live on this planet anymore. It sucks. It sucks that I’m doing my best with what I have, and what I have is a shit sandwich. I feel like a bad mom for being angry and frustrated and hopeless. So what do I personally do when I feel like the world is crumbling (literally and figuratively)? I want to run away.
When I see there’s just no point in fighting any longer, I want to leave. I want to sell all my worldly possessions and emigrate to a deserted island somewhere warm and beautiful. I want to commune with the ocean and the sky. To feel the salty air on my skin and breeze on my face. I want to leave not out of desperation, as I did in my teens, but out of expanse and connection with something majestic. Something away from the bullshit of modern life. Something bigger.
Thanks for reading and feel free to share where you want to run away to, if you want to run at all, in the comments.
