Hope Chests

 

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Lost in time, regrets and tears  

The distance between us viscous, overflowing

Not of gentleness but recrimination, regrets

Reaching the place where finding you

Is finding me and the vanished spaces

Dragging along the baggage you left

Emptying spaces full of touchstones

Only to find myself unable to let go

Gathering it all into hope chests

Lovingly polishing to a sheen, memories

Saving the lies as if they were worthy

Of me, of the time given of my tears

Creating excuses for your cruelty

Excusing my acceptance of thoughtlessness

Finally knowing there is a truth you told

“I do not deserve you, you are better”

“You are not good enough for me, I am too good”

Still, I love you as I turn away maybe one last time

27-Jan-2020

Right Brought Upsie

Soapbox LogoWe have forgotten civility, manners and courtesy. We have forgotten how to be kind to each other despite differences. We are failing miserably at simple human compassion. I use to think this was a generational thing, you know I was getting older and those who were behind me were doing what every  generation does, rebel. Now though, I believe there is something much more nefarious at work, something much uglier at the heart of this descent into our national obnoxious turn towards the terrible.

With the advent of social media, the instant gratification we receive at disgorging our opinion, thoughts, angst and any other emotion entering our mind we have become driven to place ourselves first in every encounter. We are encouraged to vent, to spew inarticulate nonsense, to attack without caution or consideration. We are applauded when we name call those who disagree with us, who sit on a different side of the ideological aisle from us, whether this be on a single issue or the entire spectrum. We have created a polarization that doesn’t just extend to those we socialize with but those we once called family, demanding we trim branches or even cut down the entire tree.

So what is it creating this phenomenon? Some of what I observe, sitting back and watching.

Social Media Influencer’s – these odd creatures who create entire worlds of their own with ‘followings’ and ‘followers’ who hang on their every act of idiocy. These mostly young women who once upon a time would not be given a minute worth of attention are now multi-millionaires, even billionaires not for the good they do but for their sexual adventurism, their proud flaunting of body transformation, their make-up and hair and Influencefrankly their self-exploitation. Mind you, I am going to give these young women credit where it is due, they tapped into a market, continue to tap into that market and have made themselves extremely wealthy, good for them.

But what does this say about us? We don’t celebrate intellectual success. We don’t celebrate achievement in business, service or even politics. In fact those women who do succeed in these realms we regularly tear down in any way possible. We constantly berate and degrade the women who by their own power climb the ladders of success in the good ole boys clubs, we find fault with them and we have names for them. While on the one hand we publicly encourage young women in their endeavors, we do not reward their achievements.

Trolls – this is the only name we have for those all too often stalkers of social media forums with their attacks that can be ugly and personal. You don’t know ‘Jane or John’, of course you don’t. They are simply members of the group you joined so you could participate in social, political or other debates / conversations of interest to you. It was never your intent to go to war, only to talk to others about the particular subject this group represented itself to be focused on. Suddenly, here comes the Trolls with first internettroll2ambiguous hints and then, when that doesn’t get the rise they needed, the full frontal attacks. There is nothing to stop them, they will go after individuals for their personal stances, they will go after anything and everything without moderation or exception. Suddenly, you feel unsafe, attacked and are exiting.

The strange thing I have observed about the troll phenomenon is how an entire group can be converted from one of discourse, polite debate and friendliness to hostility within a very short period of time. I have watched this within several chat rooms now and been both fascinated and saddened. Where once there was a willingness to have ideological discussion, give and take without ‘screaming’ or personal attack, groups slid into hostile war zones where any person taking a different stance, anyone with a view other than the most rigid would be shamed, name called and bullied until they departed the group. In many cases, these were members who had been participating in discussions for months, sometimes years. Members who brought valuable points of view to discussions and who helped to moderate extreme points of view with reason and good sense. Trolls, helped to pump these extremes, often leading the bullying with ugly attacks and divisive language.

Finally there are the friends of friends who attack from behind the screens of their phones or computers because you dared to take a different view from something your friend posted. Social media is a beast and can destroy friendships and trust. It is all to easy to forget real life happens out here, in the real world, with real consequences for our acts and words. It is all to easy to forget, connected to the words on the screen are real people with real feelings. Civility, manners, courtesy and simple common decency cyber-bullying-1matter, even in the abyss of the internet. If your friend doesn’t stop the attack, you are savaged, gleefully and without let up. From this point on, your friendship is questioned as you no longer trust your friend and certainly will not interact in social media and will not put yourself in a position where you might meet these people in a real life setting.

I have a rule, if I see things getting personal and ugly in something I control I shut it down. I explain, these are my friends / family and I won’t have it; I won’t allow personal attacks. I will block and delete. I have done so before and I am all too happy to do so again. I demand people behave as if they were brought up right, as if they know how to act in public. I don’t believe it is too much to ask that others do the same. The only place I demand the last word? Any place I control, my last word is always, “stop acting like you don’t have good manners”.

Something is truly wrong today. Something is truly ugly. We are failing ourselves and our children. We are celebrating the very worst in human nature, lifting up and reveling in the ugliest parts of our nature; pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth.

Meanwhile the world is burning and we do not seem interested in putting out the fire.

20130817-FS-UNK-0004

 

Abnormal

feminity1I have been accused of being abnormal, of not being feminine in my responses, of not being sufficiently emotional. This is not the first time someone has said this to me, likely it will not be the last. My only answer to these accusations is I keep my emotions under control and am not given to public displays, even if you are an audience of one. If you are acting out to gain a response from me you will be sorely disappointed and I will not apologize for this.

I don’t believe I am abnormal, only that I have examined many human emotions closely and found they don’t suit me; I have discarded them. I am at peace with myself, with my imperfections. This does not mean I am happy to traipse alone through the last part of my life journey. It simply means I am unlikely to make significant adjustments to my core being to accommodate the expectations of others regarding who I ‘should’ be as a woman.

notnormal

For most of my life I took care of everyone around me, everyone came before me their needs before mine. This is part of my nature and can be draining. My tendency was to hold everything very close until I had enough, then I would blow up with sometimes catastrophic outcomes. Because I didn’t ask for what I needed, didn’t tell what was wrong, didn’t talk to partners, friends, parents or anyone in my orbit if there was a problem no one knew until it was too late to prevent that blow up. While those blow ups often hurt others, they all to often hurt me far more.

I don’t do this anymore. I am still quiet. I still listen more than I talk. I still have a tendency to take care of the people I love more than ask for care when I need it. This is still my core nature. What I don’t do is allow it to go without speaking up if I believe a relationship is not reciprocal. What I don’t do is not care for myself. The odd thing though, I am accused of not being sufficiently womanly e.g. emotional in my response to things.

It is true, I frequently withdraw.

It is true, I do not weep and gnash my teeth.

It is true, I do not fling myself to the floor and beg for attention.

It is true, I do not scream, yell, call names or other such nonsensical behaviors one sometimes sees on TV these days. If this is the expectation there will always be disappointment, always.

The emotional blackmail I do not respond to and have not responded to for years? The attempts to force me to react, I think they are childish and demonstrate a lack of confidence in the other person, these sometimes seem to be tests in whether I care or not. If I fail these tests, we are likely not good partner material. Some of the ‘tests’ I have failed recently, the emotions I have failed to adequately demonstrate:

Jealousy, it simply isn’t part of my DNA. It once was, I admit I use to feel horrifyingly jealous and it would tear me apart inside. Now though I no longer respond or react. I don’t know when I stopped feeling the monster of jealousy rise in my heart, I think it was jealous-700x450when I realized I could not make someone love me, could not force someone to stay and could not change another person’s heart no matter what I felt. There was no point to this emotion, it hurt no one but me. I didn’t do anything to change myself, it was simply I stopped feeling jealous. I still felt angry at a betrayal, at a lie but I no longer felt jealous.

Envy was another of those strange emotions that simply disappeared, it seemed in a day though I am sure it didn’t just poof away. I remember being younger and envying other women their perfect bodies, their clothes, their husbands, their jobs and the list goes on. I remember seeing others and wanting what they had, even just wanting to be them. I would sit sometimes and simply daydream of not being me, being anyone but me. My envy would envelope me in a fog, then suddenly it was gone. Suddenly I cannot imagine being anyone but me, despite everything I cannot dream of any life but my own. There are days I see a beautiful woman in the store and admire her, but my admiration is not envy.

Fury, I held on to my fury for days, sometimes weeks or longer. That fire would burn me flameWomanand others in a destructive path. While it might have been justified it was not healthy in its expression and it never ended well. Now, I know how to express anger when it occurs rather than let it burn me out. Now I know how to speak up and speak out. Now I know that to hang on to anger, allow it to become fury, give it free rein and rent in my soul is one of the most self-destructive things I can do.

Hate, I let this one go a very long time ago but I have to frequently check up and check in. I have said for a couple of decades you have to feed hate to keep it alive and I believe it. There are people and things I don’t like, I don’t allow in my life; but even those who have done me great and terrible harm, I do not hate. Some of them I had to teach myself not to hate. Some of them I had to let go of, I had to find them in my head and kick them out. Some of them I had to write about, here and elsewhere until they were purged. Some of them I had to learn to understand so I could justify not hating them. Slowly though I let go of hate, slowly I learned peace through letting my monsters go.

I still hate green peas.

So some men find me uncomfortable. They do not understand my ‘lack’ of emotional response. They find me to pragmatic, to logical in my responses to some of their actions and behaviors. They find my quiet disarming. Some men find my ‘lack’ of normal female emotions uncomfortable.

Relationships and dating at this age is difficult if you don’t follow the rules. Unfortunately, apparently I don’t follow the rules.

I am an introvert. I am perfectly capable of taking care of all my needs. I do not need anyone though I want someone in my life who will partner me evenly and is capable of a balanced relationship.

I am quiet. I know myself. I have clear expectations. I do not play games and it is unlikely I will respond the way you expect if you attempt to play games with me. These statements about my abnormality just got me thinking, I am perhaps more of an anomaly than I thought and should maybe be prepared for what I once considered an intolerable future. It is not that I don’t have hope, but these statements of my abnormality certainly leave me wondering.

womanonpath

Last Hope, Not

Watching the last debate I was struck by one glaring omission, Trump, #45, #3. Nowhere in the discussion and that is what we had last night on the stage, was the name of the current occupant of the White House hammered upon. With rare exception when given the opportunity did those standing on the stage compare themselves, what they would do differently, why they would be better for the nation.

I can only ask, what are you afraid of?

Not only do they not go after the man behind the Resolute Desk, they do not go after each other. They are simply being polite, they are playing nice in most cases. Even where they have something to say, they don’t say it. Even where they have significant challenges, where they have grave differences they avoid calling each other out, except politely. Do they not understand the primaries are the training ground, it is here they learn how to do battle and we watch to determine if they have the cojones to stand up for themselves, their positions and us, the American people they claim to be fighting for.

So what in the Hell are you wanna be President’s afraid of?

Stop playing. Stop being so damn nice. Got something to say, say it. Have an issue, bring it out in the open. Start defining your spaces, drawing your boundaries and showing us who you are. Boys and girls you are going up against Donald J. Trump, he will not spare you, he does not give two shits about your feelings, social standards or polite society. His bareknucklebase is rude and crude, they want to see him draw blood. They want to see a street fight, no rules just bare knuckle ugly and you laying on the ground where he can kick you again, and again, and again till you cry for mercy. That is what he and they want.

They want you, all of you to tap out and when you do, they will laugh all the way to the polls and hand him another four years.

So while you are playing nice, he is laughing. He is making up names for you. He is an Impeached President, standing in front of thousands making up lies, killing foreign government officials and telling the American People it is his right to do so. While he is doing this, you are standing on the debate stage making nice with each other pretending all is right with the world and this is just like any other day in the nation and he is just like any other POTUS.

Are you as crazy as he is and just better medicated?

I look at the aging and oh so very White debate stage, especially the top three contenders, I shake my head in dismay. Where is the fire? Where are the ideas that a nation can get behind and lift a candidate up to the Oval Office? Where is the energy necessary for leadership? Who among them can galvanize a nation into the battle of not one but three generations? Who among these geriatric fumblers can truly bring our nation together for the sweeping fervor necessary to win back the White House and Senate in 2020.

What are you thinking DNC? Picking again whose turn you think it is, giving us a choice among the least offensive? Or simply insuring #3 sweeps the Electoral College again and destroys what is left of this nation.

Joe Biden, Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren are all over seventy years old, their average on taking office would be 76. Bernie would be 79 the day he takes office, Joe would closely follow him at 78 and Elizabeth is a bit behind at 71. Whether we like it or not, aging brains are less nimble. Whether we admit it or not, cognitive thinking is affected as we age. This is not me, this is every shred of medical science we have today. This is observable facts. This is the truth, right before all of our collective eyes if we care to acknowledge it, in our own families and God help us all in our current POTUS.

So what in all the Seven Levels of Hell are we thinking when we consider the top three contenders for the next President of the United States should be someone closer to Eighty than to Fifty, or hell even Sixty.

Let us consider some other factors in this ignorance, shall we?

Bernie Sanders, health and age precludes him from a second term, hell he may not make it through his first. Given his positions and that he is only running as a Democrat because he would not make any Debate Stage as an Independent Social Democrat he may well select as a running mate someone who would be untenable to the majority of Americans which means his election is not assured and if elected his VP would not be unchallenged in a primary.

Joe Biden, age precludes him from a second term. I expect he will select an acceptable running mate, however his success during his short tenure in office may create problems for his Vice President. Again, this means the potential of a challenge at the primary.

Elizabeth Warren, age precludes a second term but I suspect she will try. Additionally, I suspect her ability to choose a running mate that will be acceptable and will balance her ‘big’ plans. I don’t believe she can beat #3 at the polls.

The rest of the candidates right now, they haven’t stepped up to the plate hard enough and the DNC isn’t pushing them to do so. If you are a Democrat you should be in there fighting with your party about this, you should be in their demanding a real primary season with a real voice. If you are an Independent, like me you are likely watching this with dismay and wondering why these are what you are being handed to consider as the next Commander in Chief. In the early days there were so many better options, so many others who could have gone toe-to-toe with #3 and carried the ball for the people of the United States.

The top three contenders, they should be sitting back and mentoring the next cohort. Giving guidance and leadership to those coming up behind them. Instead, there they are standing up front saying they are the last great hope for America.

If this is all there is, I can only say we are lost.

Retired Public Officials Waiting for a Question

Retired Public Officials Waiting for a Question

62 and Single

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I never thought I would be single at this age; this isn’t what I believed my life would look like. Truthfully, I assumed my life would be much different than it is today. Some days I wake up and wonder who is living my life, who is inhabiting the life plan I had. Well if I am honest, I wake up and think to myself, just what the fuck.

Excuse my expletive. There might be a few more so if you are offended easily you might not want to read this simple exploration of life at sixty-two, where nothing is quite as planned.

If someone had told me when I was twenty-five the trajectory my life was going to take, I would have laughed uproariously. I wouldn’t have believed them, sixty-two was old as the hills and I didn’t expect to live that long in all honesty. In the back of my mind though, I had expectations;

  • To marry, once
  • To have children, two
  • To have a careerlifethegame
  • To have grandchildren
  • To build a future and a home

To live the same life, follow the same path my father followed and embrace the same familiar patterns I had grown up with once my rebellion was finished. I was nearly done at twenty-five, almost completed my teenage angst and young adult anguish. I had started down the path of adulthood and was building that future though perhaps not quite in a regular fashion I had expected early on in life.

Yet here we are, thirty-seven years later and I am sixty-two years old and I am alone. I have had two husbands and a few wannabe husbands. One who I left and the other who left me. I have helped raise two children, both who remain close, but who are not mine except through bounds of love. I live alone in a house that is mine but still feels not quite home. I have lived a life that by all accounts was not normal but certainly built character, still I have to ask why am I alone when this is the last thing I intended to be.

Oddly, I am not unhappy or lonely most of the time. I enjoy my time within the self-imposed Personal_spacebubble, the time I can spend in my own company is strangely comforting. There are simply times I would like to know there is another person who is uniquely part of my world and chooses to share in my future. Someone who is a dependable source of both solace and pleasure. That single person who I can turn to as companion, partner, friend and yes, lover. Does this seem to be two distinctly different, even polar opposite spaces to occupy?

It may be. I cannot determine if it is or not. This sometime overwhelming longing to have a person in my life, a man who sees me, looks on me with compassion and desire does not take away from my pleasure in finally having peace and quiet. It does not reduce the enjoyment I take in my self-determination, of being able to finally do what I choose without thinking of anyone but myself. There is a strange dichotomy in finding yourself at sixty-two finally on your own, alone and independent of all responsibility but to yourself.

I remember thinking, there will come a time my sons will be grown they will marry, have children and be independent adults. There were times during my marriages I sometimes thought, my husband(s) will grow the hell up and become responsible grown-assed men, they will be full time contributors rather than emotional and financial dependents. I will be free to do what I wish, to work differently, to travel more or whatever else I wish to do. Then of course, divorce struck and financial setbacks took away my freedoms.

I recovered; I was most fortunate. Now I think, I cannot afford to just do anything to squander my recovery and my future. I must think like an adult, huh.

AmbivertScale

Can you guess where I sit on this spectrum?

So, adulthood hits at sixty-two and what it looks like doesn’t thrill me. Who in their right mind wants to do this, alone? This isn’t what I thought it would look like. Dating isn’t something I can do easily; I am not good with new people or small talk. Years ago, I tried on-line dating for a brief minute, that didn’t work for me so I won’t try it again. I am far too picky, a man would have to be extraordinary to catch and hold my attention, he would have to be part superhero, part bad boy and part old school gentleman (like my father). He would have to have the smile of an angel, clean fingernails, the patience of a saint and be able to laugh at himself.

Does this even exist anymore?

ShhhI have been so fortunate in my life. I have been loved and I have loved. I know what both look like. I have also been terribly disappointed, yes, I have also disappointed. None of us are without flaws, none of us have gone through life without mistakes. The thing is, I am better for mine, I hope. I don’t want to spend my last years alone, I want to share this last part of my life with someone who will love me knowing all my flaws, all my skeletons, all my baggage. Who will see me fully and without judgement hold me closely through the end.

I just keep wondering, how did I get here, sixty-two, single, alone and is this it?

Now What

Soapbox LogoIn a word, what a world. Okay, that is three words. It is terrifying though, don’t you think? I wonder sometimes if we will survive the next eleven months to election day and then what will happen when the results are announced? Either way, what will happen whether the current occupant of the Oval Office wins or loses, what will happen? Already the fabric of our nation is being ripped apart, everything we stand for is being tested, everything that has ever been considered good is being proven to be rotten at its center. But what will happen if #3 loses the election on November 2? What will he do between November 3 and January 21? What hell will he unleash on the United States and every nation of this world in the eighty (80) days when he has nothing to lose and his battered ego is thrown into high gear?

To ‘wag the dog‘ means to purposely divert attention from what would otherwise be of greater importance, to something else of lesser significance. … The expression comes from the saying that ‘a dog is smarter than its tail’, but if the tail were smarter, then the tail would ‘wag the dog‘.

My fellow Americans, it seems we have an entire administration focused on wagging that dog, hard. A President, who has taught them all well and with limited effort on his part has turned an entire political party into slavering sycophants at the alter of his out blown ego.  If this were not so dire, if the consequences were not so calamitous, I would watch in fascination and giddy glee. Unfortunately, for all of us #3 and his band of minions have turned up the dial and put us all in even more danger simply to satisfy his baseless ego.

To ‘wag the dog‘ means to start a war or military operation to divert negative political attention away from yourself. Based on the movie of the same name, where the President fabricates a fake war to take political pressure away from a scandal.

What now? Where do we go from here? We have three hundred and one (301) days before the next election. Between now and then, how much more harm across the world can this President and his bootlickers do, to the nation and the world? His nature will not allow him to ignore a slight, he will go all in at the slightest hint of an insult to his manhood, his intellect or his competency; none of which exist in the real world only in 700-00153871his mind. He will spend the day excitedly tweeting plans to financially ruin allies who question him, commands to blow up nations, assassinate enemy heads of state and nasty childish insults at private and public citizens who disagree with him. He has most recently noted his tweets are on par with Presidential orders and Congressional Briefings.

Where do we go, as concerned citizens? What is our out from the downward spiral this president and his cult are taking us? How do take back the soul of a nation and restore order? Some would say and I do not entirely disagree, the past three years have only exposed us for what we were all along. This president and his allies did not introduced xenophobia, racism, sexism, classism, nationalism and all the other ‘isms’ to the United States, only pulled the Band-Aid off what has always been simmering under the surface. I don’t disagree, but we were making progress. We were taking small steps. We were slowly moving toward a better day, a better world and better understanding. We were making it intolerable for the ‘isms’ to exist. We were slowly but surely eradicating the acceptance of them in our schools and public spaces. We were expanding our understanding of one another, small steps I know but they were there and it was good. Our first Black President made some of us take notice, made many of us proud of the nation we were building, together. Of trump-pence-pompeo-impeachmentcourse, he also made many terrified, thus we have this deranged imbecile sitting behind the Resolute Desk.

Now what? This is what I always come back too. We have an impeached president, who is close to kicking off another war he cannot win. We have a Senate intent upon cheating, on giving him a pass not just to pacify his ego but to smooth his and their own way into re-election. We have Russia with a free hand to interfere in our elections and our national security. We have a government with zero checks and balances. We have a media entirely undermined by the current Administration. We have a White Supremacist writing speech’s and guiding the president in his immigration policy. We have children in cages dying and no one seems to care. We have Black and Brown people dying in the street, every single day and no one seems to care. We have Synagogue’s being defaced and their members being murdered and no one seems to care. We have Black churches being defaced and their members being murdered and no one seems to care. We have Neo-Nazi’s and White MillerPutinSupremacist marching in our streets and the best we get from the POTUS is they are very fine people, no one seems to care.

We have a family of criminals, given high-level security clearances, making millions if not billions from their positions close to the president. No one questions this, no one seems to care.

Worst of all, we don’t have a viable Democrat running for office capable of exciting enough of the fence sitters to vote. So Now What?  Just what in the hell do we do now?

Bound

 

 

 

 

Tattered and in pieces, shackled invisibly

Howling gales, surrounding me frenzied

Lashing my torn spirit, whispering as I search

Lost, darkness immediate dragging my core

Crying out, find me here on this shore

 

Red skies, angrily brighten the horizon

Breezes calm in dawns face, muting the fury

Showers fall, washing the previous night’s wounds

Chains fall away as a pathway opens ahead

Whispers beckon, barely heard over wind-chimes

 

Soaring, shearing edges from diaphanous clouds

Leaving trails, breadcrumbs to follow as I search

For rest, for peace, for a place to land quietly

Battered, betrayed with redemption beyond reach

Gossamer robes flow around me, burning my skin   

Each touch scorching reminders of pairings

 

Night falls again, nightmares beckon once more

Perhaps tonight will be different

My bond slips as you become more distant

Once my king now my black prince

Still, I miss your skin, in my dreams

My bound memories, reminders of a reverie

 

5-January-2020