2022 December – QBG

Not Feeling It

December 26, 2022 by valentinelogar

We all have those days when we simply want to stay in bed, pull the covers up and hope that the world will pass by quickly. Everyone has those days. Most of us don’t give in; we put our feet on the floor and get on with it, whatever it is. We know better than to give in to the inclination to hide from the world, no matter how much we wish for a day without the noise. We roll out from our cocoon of safety and plaster on an acceptable look of interest, even a smile, at the appropriate times throughout the day. We hide behind our walls of social acceptability and apologize to others for our moments of snappishness while inside, we howl and wail.

Smile, you are so much prettier when you smile.

Really? Maybe I don’t want to smile. Maybe, just maybe, I don’t feel like smiling. Perhaps I have not one thing to smile about, and I don’t care if you think I am pretty or not. Maybe I stopped caring when the man I loved left without looking backward to see if I was standing or if his action had finally knocked me off my feet. Feasibly, the truth is the world has convinced me that pretty doesn’t do a damned thing for me, and your demand is just another powerplay that I no longer give a damn about.

Stop being such a bitch.

What this really means is stop speaking up for yourself; stop speaking your mind. My question is, haven’t I earned this? The people who demand I stop being a “bitch” are telling me to be quiet and accept their direction, their guidance, and ultimately their demands for compliance. Even more than the desire to shut down challenge is the desire to shut down questions. Stop being a bitch means stop questioning authority, stop questioning accepted knowledge, stop questioning social norms, and stop asking questions. Finally, it means to stop being more intelligent than those around you and refusing to dim your light to make them feel better.

Why don’t you lose weight? Maybe you’d get a man if you did.

Well, maybe I would; then again, given I don’t smile and I am a bitch probably I wouldn’t. Has anyone considered the words coming out of their mouths when they say this to a person? A billion-dollar industry is trying to convince us our imperfection is an insult to the world. Every time we pick up a magazine, we see airbrushed models with ‘perfect’ bodies and faces draped in clothing that will never be made in our size, ensuring our egos will be bruised, and we will constantly question our value. Hell, even our friends and family get in on the size 10 or go home free for all. As far as I can see, it is a barrage of mean, with little value other than making the other person feel good about themselves. How about this instead, if a man sees ME, he will like me or not for all that I am. A man who sees ME will see beyond my imperfections to my heart, spirit, intellect, and all I am and will be intrigued. All the micro-aggressions about my imperfections will disappear, and maybe they will start seeing others as human too.

You should wear make-up, color your hair, and cover your scars/tattoos.

It would be best if you minded your business. All these people with thoughts on how others should ‘look’ really do try my patience. It is no wonder I have retreated further and further into my introversion over the years. Yes, my hair is nearly all gray now. I stopped coloring it almost three years ago during COVID. I am sixty-five years old and have earned that silver for the love of all that is holy. I am not trying to fool anyone into believing I am ten years younger. As for the rest, why? That is an honest question, why should I wake in the morning to don make-up that does not make me feel better about myself, so others are comfortable with my public face? My one concession, I have tattooed eyeliner; it saves me time. As for the rest of my tattoos, why does anyone need to express an opinion? First, I love my art; second, some of my art covers scars that I found far more offensive; finally, all of my art tells the story of my life. I have tattoos to help me heal, but it is, frankly, no one’s business. Why do people believe they can judge and speak their judgment? All I can say is mind your business, walk in my shoes, spend even a week in my life and then talk to me or just shut the fuck right up.

Talking to God, your way or mine.

Most of us talk to something, whether it is God, the Great Spirit, our Journal or something else. I do a little of all of that. I am admittedly not very good at any of it by common standards. Indeed, I am irreverent and do not approach discussions with God the way most who profess Christianity believe I should. I have been this way most of my adult life; while I believe God exists, I am not a great believer in Christianity as it is presented today by the White Evangelical Church. I don’t think God cares if we abase ourselves to speak to him, I think he cares that we speak to him at all, that we have a relationship and come with our hearts open, even when we are afraid, or angry, or hurt. I speak to God, I also pray. These are separate things and possibly misunderstood by many. When I pray, I do so in private; I pray for those I love, I pray for those who need prayer, who need healing, who need to be lifted up. I pray for patience and grace for myself because I do not have much of these things. I greatly resent those who would tell me how to speak to God or pray; you do it your way, and I will do it mine. Thus far, God has not sent a lightning bolt to smite me for my irreverence.

Some days it is hard to put both feet on the floor and start another day. It would be so much easier if people were kinder and just minded their business.

Filed Under: Random Thoughts, Women Tagged With: aging, Art of Living, depression, Isolation and aging, kindness, Society, Women

Dear God X

December 22, 2022 by valentinelogar

Dear God, in the interest of not repeating myself and railing at you about the dead children and lunatics with guns, I skipped Uvalde. To not step on toes, you know, those over-the-top ones who claim to speak in the name of your Son, I also skipped Dodd and the devastation it has wrought across this nation on women and girls. I have kept my peace about some of the lunatics still inhabiting positions of power across this nation and wielding it to destroy the lives of those who are different. Haven’t we seen this before? You remember Germany, Russia, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Rwanda, Cambodia, Darfur, and the first Ukraine, just in the last century. When we add the Slave Trade and North American Natives, God, we are not doing a very good job down here left to our own devices.

Dear God, how do you not look down and at least nudge folk a little tiny bit in the right direction? I have to ask, are you asleep or simply disinterested? Do you see what is happening, not just here but across the world, with the general movement toward the more ugly, hateful, and terrible that humanity brings to the table given even the slightest opportunity to show its ass. Do you see and say to yourself, “well, let’s just see how far they will go before I smite a few of them back onto the right and righteous path.”

Dear God, I know you must be busy though I am not certain about what these days other than the thousands showing up on your doorstep every day. Aren’t you just a bit weary of all the dead children? I know their parents would have preferred to keep them here, raise them up and watch whom they would become. Do you plan this to determine the worthiness of this world? Do you count the hairs upon the heads of the elders and the children who lay dead by violence and think, “Damned Shame that happened again.”

Dear God, we are led by charlatans, imposters, and Cons, many suited up every Sunday and professing to speak in your name from pulpits of mega-churches across the land. The things they say in your name should make your head swim; indeed, your greatest angel dances gleefully in Hell with all your inattention as he leads the faithless towards even worse malevolent acts every day. With each mass murder, as the bodies lie bleeding, unrecognizable from the destruction of the bullets shot from weapons meant for battlefields, these pretenders offer up “thoughts and prayers,” I can only wonder to whom; surely it can’t be you or your son.

Dear God, in a couple of days, we will celebrate the birth of your Son. For the believers, this is a day of great celebration. Many no longer believe because of the great evil done in your name. You have seemingly turned your back and left the world to its own ways; what could possibly go wrong? God, look through the eyes of those of us who still have a smidgen of hope, and see what we see:

A Black Man was recently stopped and harassed by the police in Michigan for looking at a White woman ‘wrong.’
Congress had to fight to pass a bill to respect marriage for Americans, whether Gay or Interracial, in America. Even in 2022, some people still believe others do not share the same rights as White Heterosexuals. Last I checked, God, you did not say a Blessed thing about Homosexuality; this bastardization of Leviticus is all in the filthy minds of White Male Preachers. I know you didn’t say a damned thing about the color of one’s skin being a deciding factor in love.
A few weeks ago, a nightclub was shot up because of its clientele; the worst part was that families were there to support friends and family members.
Across the nation, antisemitic rhetoric is on the rise leading to real threats to communities and places of worship. Remember the Camps across Europe and the millions who died because they, too, were Jews, it seems we are seeing this again, but now it is here in this country, this land of the free.
A young Black Man is shot in the street, walking to the grocery store, nothing more. The White Man who does this vicious and ugly act of violence isn’t charged with attempted murder or a Hate Crime. He is charged with Assault; you know God, they don’t want to overcharge this 56-year-old white man with the obvious crime, just in case.

Dear God, this is just the tip of the iceberg; come on, you count the hairs on my head, but you can’t count the intent of these murderers. You know all of this, as it happens, don’t you? You see the fuckery down here, and you know it is getting worse by the day. We have members of Congress armed and dangerous, bragging they wouldn’t have lost if they had planned the recent insurrection. We have wars inside our nation perpetrated on those who don’t look or pray the ‘right’ way. Every small step we took forward in the last one hundred years is being lost, stripped away by a small minority, and they do it under your banner. People are so afraid, and that fear is turning into hatred; soon, God, we will be a nation at war again, though it will be far worse this time, and the body count will be yours.

Dear God, it is time for you to act. Nothing big and flashy, but something. I am tired, and so are others. I worry about my friends visiting me. I worry my friends and those I love will eventually have to choose sides and will have to leave me behind simply because I don’t look like them. I don’t blame them; I hurt for them and for me. Dear God, it is time for you to step into this mess you have allowed to fester, it isn’t going to self-correct, and these monsters of self-righteousness believe they have you on their side in their hate and fear.

Dear God, I still have hope. There remain so many good people doing so much good in this world. There are still so many acts of kindness every single day. So much compassion, in this broken world. Don’t you hear the voices raised begging you to shine a light, send warmth to those in need, send healing to those hurting and broken?

Dear God, we are not yet entirely broken, but it is time to show yourself and remind those who speak in your name of the truth and the power of love.