You are here: Home / Archives for Lessons Learned

Making of Me

March 17, 2013 by

What if someone asked you today to define yourself, all that is you, who you are and what makes up the core of you. Could you do it?

One of my favorite bloggers, Rebecca “Sweet Mother” Donohue, did just that the other day in her three hundred and fortieth post (I am half way there and in awe of this number), What Made You (#340)? Her post got me thinking, even as I read and sometimes giggled I was thinking about what made me what I am. Rebecca asked a question, “What made you?”

My answer to her question was simplistic, it was also the only way I knew to answer on someone else’s blog, it was this.

My history forced me to make the best of me. My future forces me to see what is possible for the rest.

I look at that answer I think, what does that really mean? Big picture, little picture all of us are cobbled together from so many different experiences, so many different sensory inputs and so many  choices we make through the course of a lifetime. What really sticks?

So, I thought to myself, I want to take that answer and expand it. I want to try to pick apart what is important and trace the roots back to what made me.

scan0028My Parents Made Me: all of them, each in their own way contributed to how I view relationships both inside and outside of family. Most people only have one set of parents, I have three and half sets each individual added to who I am over my lifetime. Of course, my biological parents contributed my DNA but more than this, when I met them in my twenties they gave me a sense identity. My adoptive parents showed me the world and expanded my opportunities, they also taught me survival instincts and unfortunately hate. My adoptive father and my heart mother taught me the most important lesson of all, don’t settle for anything short of real love. My heart mother made me more compassionate, she taught me to see others with empathy and to forgive shortcomings, she taught me to heal.

Travel Made Me: exposure to the world made me, it broadened my horizons from a very early age. Travel made me more willing to accept what wasn’t exactly like what I had at home and even welcome what020 Venice San Marko 6504 was different. World travel made me look for adventure, excited by new stamps on my passport and miles in my airline bank. Travel wiped out the jingoistic attitude we Americans so often have that cause our “Ugly American” reputation worldwide. Travel seeped into my blood and spirit at a very early age, I have had a passport since I was six and never let it expire. Travel taught me there is wide-world out there that think and do differently than me.

Dance Made Me: as a very young child, I was Pigeon Toed, drastically so. I wore really ugly corrective shoes (when anyone could get me into them). Finally a doctor suggested Ballet might help to correct both my posture and my Pigeon Toedness (is that a word?). Off we went, beginning Ballet at barely five (5), even before I saw my first Nutcracker Suite. I was lost forever after, even when the teacher hit my toes to point them out. I was lost, linda2even when she cracked my knees to bend them properly. I loved dance I specifically loved ballet. I loved the discipline of it. I loved the movement, I would move furniture in the living room and dance when no one was home. I would practice form in my bedroom using the window as my barre. Dance taught me self-discipline and beauty.

The Men in My Life Made Me: not telling who or how many, not important. The men in my life both those I married and those I didn’t made me who I am. This is true whether we ended well or on the other end of the spectrum and ended nightmarishly. The men I have chosen to partner with over my lifetime have taught me enormous lessons about myself, life, forgiveness and obviously love. Whether those lessons were how to walk away and rebuild or how to love someone who failed me, all of these lessons made me. There was a time when my heart was set behind a steel door, the key was in a bottomless sea and I had no space in my life for love, no patience for fools in love. Over time, the men in my life including brothers, fathers, lovers and husbands have taught me better and thus made me who I am today.

The Women in My Life Made Me: I have been mostly fortunate in my friends, blessed in the longevity of my friendships. The women in my life have enriched me in more ways than I can ever say. Though cautious in who I let in I have been uncommonly privileged; when I am unlucky even then, I have learned lessons I apparently needed at the time.  All the women in my life have made me, from mothers, sisters to heart sisters, friends and mentors.

The Convicts in My Life Made Me: sounds strange doesn’t it, for nine years I have walked a road I never thought to walk, speaking about what happened to me twenty-one years ago to offenders. Speaking in a program intended to teach Empathy to Offenders based on the experiences of real victims, like me. When I started down this path, I was so angry still my fury was white hot I could not imagine how I was going to stand in front of a room of Convicts and not lash out. I made it through that night and many more since then. I have expanded speaking to Juvenile Offenders in the Sex Offender program, because it is important. How do they make me? Because they have stories, because their humanity exists right alongside mine and I have learned compassion and empathy as I stand up and tell my story and listen to theirs.

There is more that went into the making of me, I know there is more, some of it terrible.

  • Violence made me. I have let it go, I will not allow what was done to own my future.
  • Rape made me. I have let it go, my past does not own today or my future.
  • Pain makes me even today, it does not own me though.
  • Divorce and abandonment made me, it does not own me it does not convince me of my worth.

Writing makes me today, I am learning a craft I thought I had no talent for but I am finding my voice and my heart in it.

What makes you?

Filed Under: Random Thoughts Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

Lessons Snap

January 6, 2013 by

As part of my attempt to clear clutter in my office and find the many individual pieces of a story to weave into a tapestry, I found something else. I found something I had posted in the early days of this blog and it resonated with me, reminding me again, what I know in my head and heart to be true.

Especially now, it was good to revisit and good to be reminded.

Hard Lessons Learned – December 2011

Filed Under: Personal Notes, Random Thoughts Tagged With: , ,

What I think in Retrospect

January 1, 2013 by

Today is New Year’s Day 2013; we survived the Mayan Apocalypse as we have so many other predictions of the end of the world. I kept asking people to send me their valuables for safekeeping, just in case mind you. It was a no go, I got not a thing except a few giggles, my friends are all so smart.

Yesterday I thought about all the things this past year brought, good and bad, bright and dark. Yesterday I also slept a great amount of the day away; I have been doing that a great deal lately with the assistance of my broad-spectrum painkillers (thanks doc).

This is in no way an attempt to make New Year’s Resolutions; I don’t do those anymore they simply add to my feelings of inadequacy when I systematically ED TV Ads Viagra Ad fail to achieve them. Do not mistake me, I do not feel inadequate on a regular basis only sometimes, like any normal person even if we don’t admit it at least aloud and in public. I don’t think there is Viagra for the heart and mind, well
there is actually but you can’t take it based on ‘periodic feelings of inadequacy’ versus ‘all the time’.

Did I just compare my now and then feelings of not measuring up to Erectile Dysfunction? Gad

Well, back to the main thrust of my ruminations yesterday, what did I learn as I pondered the last 365 days?

I am still capable of passion. It is in fact a core of my being too long ignored, too long tapped down so others are more comfortable with me. Even here, in my writing I have worked hard to be balanced, fair, pragmatic and inoffensive knowing those who I have great respect and love for might turn away from me should I let my passions fly.

Though I have exposed much of my history on these pages, I remain very much a private person holding myself within the four walls of my soul. This dichotomy has caused me to withdraw from friends, from those who wanted to draw me in, even from self at times. The more I drew back the curtains of the past the more I retreated.

I lie, yes, I said it I lie. I lie to myself every now and then but I lie to others also. I say I don’t care what others think but that isn’t really true at all; of course I care, I am after all human. My investment in caring is long-standing; it is part of who I have always been. Caring what others thought kept me in miserable marriages long past the time I should have exited. Caring what others thought kept me standing and laughing with my bullies in school when I should have demanded justice. Caring what others think now keeps me from standing up sometimes and saying, “No, I will not be quite, accept your judgment or your bad behavior”, simply because I need the connection.fourwalls

I say yes when I should say no. This is true in every aspect of my life. I allow others to dictate my direction based on their need and desire without consideration of what I might need or want. My narrow shoulders carry a huge burden yet I don’t seem able to say NO. The only thing I seem able to do is crawl under the covers and allow ‘sad’ and ‘pain’ to dictate my response to ‘no more’. This reaction is new this year. As I have debrided the past it seems I have also found new ways to hide from others and myself. For a year, I have lived in chaos, emotional and environmental chaos. The ability to say either HELP ME or NO has escaped me and thus I have lived chaotically all year.

I am fooling myself, not really but yes, I am fooling myself. I have spent the last year in pain. I tell others I have a high pain threshold and thus living like this is simply ‘what it is’. That answer is frankly Bullshit. That answer is destroying my life, my marriage and my future. I do have a high pain threshold, which should not matter a whit. This year has seen me go from working with a trainer in 2011, walking fairly regularly and actually losing weight to being nearly sedentary in 2012. My body hurts, I have gained weight again, I look and feel like warmed over…..well you know. I cannot live this way. Not only is it unhealthy, I do not feel good about myself.

 There are still things I want to accomplish in this life! There are still things undone.

That is the greatest conclusion I have come to. There are still things undone. Still lessons to learn, people to meet, love to give, passions to explore, waves to ride.

I admit it, I spent yesterday beating myself up a little bit. I felt as if I had let some people down over the past year. I hadn’t always lived up to my end of the bargain in our relationships, whether marriage, friendship or business. I always knew when I failed, when I fell down; what I failed so often to do is say to them, “I am sorry, I couldn’t do what I promised”.

I have to get better at only promising what I am able to deliver. I have to get better at judging my own capabilities and capacity. That is one resolution I plan on actually working on, just trying to be a better friend, wife and business partner.

I have to get better at taking care of myself. No, not working through the pain that is only for the fools who enjoy abuse and I am long past that. I am going to find a way to reduce the pain, go back to my trainer and do something to get off my azz this year. I simply cannot live this way.

I am going to find a dream or two to follow, chase like mad even. I have them, really. I have had them for a very long time. It is past time for me to put myself on the front burner, stop saying yes to every damn-body else and say yes to me.

I am going to continue to evolve the relationships I started this past year with long lost family members, including siblings and my first mother. They require nurturing; I am going to work on that garden.

momandI

So there you have it, my non-Resolutions based on my thoughts of this past year. How was your New Years?

Filed Under: Personal Notes, Random Thoughts Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Soaring through Turbulence

December 10, 2012 by
Perfect isn't it

Perfect isn’t it

My friends have been worried, so have been my dearly beloved and my children. Admittedly, I have been on a bit of a tear lately about all the things wrong, all the things pulling my spirit spiraling down. I want to say though this isn’t the only thing I feel day in and day out; there are wonderful days as well, days that despite or maybe because of those clouds I am just plain old happy.

My friend Deb Bryan has taught me through her series For this I am Thankful to see life with gratitude, to see through a prism of thankfulness for all I have been given.

There are days when I climb out of bed and grab my first cup of coffee and a big smile is plastered across my face! Dearly Beloved has risen before me and made the coffee all I have to do is pour, then yell ‘Good Morning honey’. Coffee is huge; that Dearly Beloved has learned to make it is enormous!

I am working and not traveling right now. This is an unusual circumstance for me, driving to a client site each day, sleeping in my own bed each night and in the arms of my dearly beloved. My normal work requires me to be on a plane every Sunday, in hotels all week and not home until Thursday, sometimes even Friday. In most of the years of our marriage, this working in the city we live in, it is a rarity. It is nice and I am most grateful for it, for this time we have. With luck, we have until April of next year with this contract I continue to hold on and hope.

This past year we moved my second mother into Assisted Living, this was quite the learning experience for me. She and I have had a troubled relationship for most of my life. I learned I could let go, I could open my heart, danceletting go of old hurts without the requisite ‘I am sorry’ from her that I had always wanted to hear. I could do this because it was simply the right thing to do for all of us, me, my brother and her. In the process of this move, I found old history, old photos I am still cataloging. This is one of my favorite things, these photos and slides, this connection to the past. Remember I said I loved dance, it connects me to myself, this is me!

Part of the trip to Seattle didn’t just reconnect me to my second mother; it reconnected me to another part of my history. I finally dropped the barriers and reached out to my first mother, made the trip to see her. We had spoken once and written once or twice since our emotional break nearly a decade previously. Now we are moving toward each other, easily and with more loving hearts. With her I am moving toward others in my biological family also, sisters and brothers who have been in my heart but not in my life.

On Friday past I went to my first acupuncture session, I was scared! Don’t know why I was scared, I mean really I have thirteen tattoos, what about some little ole bitty needles should scare category17me right? Nevertheless, I still walked into this first session with not an insignificant amount of trepidation. I suppose we always face the unknown with fear. I walked out feeling better than I have in weeks, perhaps months, I am returning today for my second session.

There are other things this year has brought me, things I feel good about and that make me believe the world doesn’t entirely suck all the time. There are days when I feel like I have done good, made life better for someone been able to touch someone in a positive fashion and that sticks with me and makes it brighter. This year I have learned to be more open and to look for opportunities to give without thought of return. Each time I have done so, the return is tenfold as my heart expands and my happiness quotient is measured in thousands. That I have the means to give, that I have the means to help even as I whine about what a terrible year it has been rocks me back and forces me to consider just how blessed I am to have all that I have.

I know I have been on a tear.  There are days I admit, it is hard and I simply want to sit in my room and pout. It isn’t every day though, truly it isn’t every day.  It seems I am spiraling down and unable to lift my wings and fly, it is just the turbulence though; most days I find I can catch an updraft and soar.

This song speaks to those days of wonder, enjoy.

Filed Under: Personal Notes Tagged With: , , , , ,

Get off the Funk Train

December 1, 2012 by

UntitledThere are times when it feels the world is working against you, this year has been like that for me and I couldn’t put my finger on it. Each time I tried the reason, the cause for my angst slipped away. It wasn’t that I was particularly sad, depressed or angry; no, that wasn’t it at all. It wasn’t that this has been a terrible year, not a terrible one for me personally anyway. Something though sat in the corner, like a shadow just beyond my vision, sapping my strength, my energy and my emotional reserves.

There have been many changes this year, many things I have brought on myself. Explorations of my own history some of which was difficult, soul scrubbing even, these were not the cause of my bother. Then there has been the very ugly political season, I found myself in battle royale’s with friends and family, more times than I might wish. While the campaign season was nasty and brought out the ugly in many of us, myself included at times, this wasn’t what sucked me down into this muddle either.

So, what is it that has me in a funk? I feel sometimes I am swimming in a morass of quicksand with nothing to grab on, nothing to pull myself out

Truly, this year has been troubling to me; the more I sought answers the more my head and heart seemed to slip out the back door and away from my inspection. The greater my introspection and the more I searched for cause, the more the shadow seemed to grow, surrounding my days and sucking my energy along with it. On the one hand, I was releasing my history and I was lighter for it, my soul and heart were expanding and I could feel those pieces of me flying off to the winds. Was this what was wrong? Did I need those pieces to be whole, to be completely me was I really only me when I held on to the pain of my history; surly this wasn’t the truth. I hadn’t told everything, I still had my secrets those parts that I hadn’t let out that I hadn’t shown, was this what was wrong? No, I didn’t think so, some stories can wait I think until we are ready to tell them, one I had told to two people without comment so it was in their keeping for now.

This year was difficult, despite some of the great things and great people I found along the way. My energy was sapped, I couldn’t finish projects and I let people down. All too frequently, I ran away from interaction, from telling people there was something wrong. Even knowing there were communities of true friends I could turn to, I hid simply stopped communicating rather than say, “There is something wrong”.QuestionMark

What was wrong with me this year?

Part of what is wrong is simply physical, I am in pain and it is draining my energy. I have allowed this to continue without dealing with it head on. I am tired. That is the truth. It has been twenty long years; it is not ever going to get better. I am tired. I am tired of always hurting. I am tired of living in an alternate universe where pain is the norm and I live on a scale of 5-10 rather than 0-5. I am tired of having to explain.

I am tired of what pain does to my body. I am tired of being fat because moving hurts and keeps me away from doing anything healthy for myself. I am tired of being too embarrassed to go to the gym. I am tired of hurting too much to walk. I am tired of all the numb spots on my body that get worse if I stand too long or walk too far. I am tired of having to explain this to perfectly healthy, body perfect people my dearly beloved included who doesn’t understand what it means to not live in pain every single day of their lives.

I am angry, yes, I am angry because in October of last year someone rear-ended me while I sat at a stop light. That act caused me more harm; progress I had made with my physical therapy was entirely undone. I ended up losing a contract and thus losing income. The other person’s insurance company treated me terribly in large part because I had a pre-existing condition. This still hasn’t been resolved, an attorney who is a member at the club dearly beloved works offered to take the case on contingency. Yes, there is a contract and thirteen months later, we are still waiting for him to do anything. In fact, despite multiple times of him telling me he is preparing an offer for the insurance company he has done nothing. This week I have sent him two e-mails asking why, he hasn’t responded to either.

What is wrong with me this year?wellmoney

I lost a third of my normal income through that accident, because I couldn’t travel for months. I am the primary breadwinner in our marriage, always have been. No one seems to be at all concerned, but me perhaps because finances are my purview just as earnings are my responsibility. As I look at the year, though I realized I failed to live up to my end, but it feels like it is a domino effect. If I weren’t already hurt that accident would have been nothing, I would have walked away.

If it weren’t for fearing repercussions against dearly beloved I would take action against this attorney who is doing nothing. I do though; I fear greatly DB will be harmed if I take action so I am bound by ribbons of love and my own failure to act.

What is wrong with me this year? Why am I in such a funk? Why can’t I seem to move through the bad and focus on what is wonderful and what is great?

I don’t know the answer to the above. I just know I have been trying without much success to take on small projects for months now. It isn’t there haven’t been wins; they just don’t seem to be enough to push the blues out of my way to wash the fog from my brain entirely. I know I need something to compel me, something to spin my wheels.

Don’t misunderstand; I am not always sad or unhappy. I am just in a funk this year. There have been changes and some of them have worked my nerve. Some of them I have to deal with, I have to do something about so they don’t work my nerve next year too.

So, that is some of why I am in a funk, some of what is shadowing me. I don’t know what I will do to fix it, but somehow I must over the next four weeks get proactive. My funk is affecting my marriage, my work and my friendships. I refuse to allow it to follow me to next year.

Filed Under: Random Thoughts Tagged With: , , , , , ,

All that is Good

November 24, 2012 by

Gratitude

Appreciation

Thankfulness

I allowed my anniversary to pass without much fanfare, mostly because I wanted to sit back and consider all that had happened in the past year. Where I began and why, what caused me to start and what has changed for me, in large part since I began exploring pieces of myself I didn’t think to explore. This past year has truly been an exercise in redefining my limits and boundaries. I have wandered paths I long since allowed to be overgrown and choked off. I also rediscovered my love of research, history and yes you might have guessed the sociology within politics.

There were things I knew, things I intellectualized but had never spoken aloud. There were other things I knew, a history buried so deep in my soul despite my tough girl exterior I still allowed those hurts to define me. In these pages I began to speak the words, some of them made me weep for days. Some of them made me so angry all over again I could not speak aloud for hours after writing them down. Yet I hit the publish button and it was as if each time I released a piece of myself, comforting myself there was another door in the oubliette of my mind no longer hidden, no longer under lock and key.

When I started I didn’t know I would delve deeply into my history. Even today I don’t know that I could tell you why I did, except it was time. I was made brave by others I met in this wonderful world, others who were not afraid, who stunned me with their courage and their kindness, such as:

http://runningfromhellwithel.com/ http://deborah-bryan.com/
http://onehotmessage.wordpress.com/ http://rasjacobson.com/
http://knowmyworth.com/ http://cheatbuster.wordpress.com/
http://linneann.wordpress.com/ http://rebelthriver.wordpress.com/
http://runningnakedwithscissors.com/

Then there are those perfect places of rest and peace. I find them and think, ahhh I am home for a minute and can breathe. When I see there is something from one of these wonderful bloggers I smile just a little then rush right over to read.

http://tasteoflifebysabi.wordpress.com/ http://dragoneystory.wordpress.com/
http://yourdailydoseblog.com/ http://notquiteold.wordpress.com/
http://letscutthecrap.wordpress.com/ http://adamsart.wordpress.com/
http://somkritya.wordpress.com/ http://suedreamwalker.wordpress.com/
http://totsymae.com/ http://catforsley.me/

We all have places to laugh, giggle, argue and debate. In some cases a mix of personal stories, political shenanigans and the world around us is just what is needed to keep us connected. Certainly, despite what it may seem like to some, even I need that cool wind to blow and make me giggle, some of these marvelous bloggers do just that!

http://carrierubin.com/ http://afrankangle.wordpress.com/
http://k8edid.wordpress.com/ http://sweetmotherlover.wordpress.com/
http://pegoleg.com/ http://fiftyfourandahalf.com/
http://howthehelldidienduphere.wordpress.com/ http://monicastangledweb.com/
http://thebyronicman.com/ http://shesamaineiac.com/
http://frigginloon.wordpress.com/ http://heyjay139.wordpress.com/
http://romneymanassa.wordpress.com/ http://chiefwritingwolf.com/

There is one other blogger who I have to send out enormous hugs and great heaping mounds of gratitude to, without her I might not have continued forward. Without her I would have given up, frequently. She has been my bulwark, my voice on the other end of the phone and I am afraid I have burned her ear sometimes with my rants.

Red over at http://mommasmoneymatters.com/

I wanted to say to all the bloggers who follow me, I am so grateful. For the time you take to read and comment, I appreciate it is your time and you give some of it to me. To all the bloggers who have given their time and energy, who have taught me to let go and soar, thank you; I will never be able to express what it has meant to me to learn, your lessons have been invaluable. To all my new friends, I am so grateful for your warmth, humor and welcome.

This past year has seen me let go of some very old hurts. No, it hasn’t truly healed them, simply allowed me to let them go. This year has also allowed me to find new pathways to old and slightly damaged relationships, without the lessons I have learned here and from some of you I might never have found the strength and courage to reach out and rebuild those bridges, for this I am grateful. Over this past year I have also learned, much to my chagrin I need to apologize more often for my razor sharp tongue, ouch. I have been reminded to say “I love you” and to hug, even if the hug is remotely.

Perhaps most importantly I have learned not to ignore my feelings. Not to find another room in the dungeon of my mind and throw those pesky emotions inside under lock and key. I have learned my emotions will not slice and dice me leaving nothing remaining of who I thought I was, or pretended to be. I have begun to be a complete person again, while I still don’t wear my heart on my sleeve I might consider a tattoo of one someday.

I let my anniversary pass, mostly because I wanted to think about the past year and what it has meant to me. What changes this year has brought about. I have been in a funk this year and couldn’t put my hand on why, finally last week I figured it out (more on this later). This post is all about gratitude, I have much to be thankful for; while I may never be enpoint again my soul has begun to soar.

Filed Under: Random Thoughts Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

No Restraint

November 21, 2012 by

Paul Ryan, the other half of the Romney ticket is an adherent of Ayn Rand and her watershed novel Atlas Shrugged. If you haven’t ever read Atlas Shrugged, you might wonder why this is so frightening and so at odds with his Catholic faith. The problem with the philosophy of Ayn Rand when applied to nations is its failure of compassion. Ayn Rand believed in Free Markets above all else, Free Markets and individualism. The philosophy of objectivism and selfishness, says the wealthy the “makers” have value and worth in society. Others, the “takers” have none. The entire premise of Atlas Shrugged is a nation, no, a world gone mad as the “makers” withdraw their resources leaving the “takers” to their own inept devices, incapable of managing without the direction and firm hand of those at the top in wealth and resource. This premise is of course faulty, it assumes the 95% without great wealth are incapable and unintelligent, but this was the assumption of Ayn Rand and it is also the assumption of Paul Ryan and his cohorts.

Paul Ryan would be Libertarian, except the Libertarian platform allows for the decriminalization of Drugs, Abortion and Gay Marriage. Otherwise, most of the Libertarian platform is based on the Ayn Rand philosophy of Free Market without regulations, no taxes and no government supports or safety nets. The other problem for Paul Ryan and those of his ilk, within the houses of Congress, those within the various state legislatures and within the various Governorships; well they simply can’t win without the support of their far right Christian coalitions today. Ayn Rand was an Atheist and the Libertarians believe strongly in keeping religion out of government but individual rights to worship protected from interference.

Paul Ryan’s budget, yes that infamous piece of tripe, the basis of the platform of the Republican Party the ineptly named Path to Prosperity, which has been vetted and rejected by every non-partisan group is based on the philosophies of Ayn Rand and the premise of Atlas Shrugged. It is nothing more or less than a GIFT to those who have no need and a THEFT from those who have great need. The GOP having failed to take heed of the results of the people’s choice in the most recent election have made Paul Ryan their lead negotiator for the next round of Budget talks. We will fall over the Fiscal Cliff; buckle up.

The real issue though, the real problem with all of this is the idea of Free Markets, markets without restraint or restriction. History is a strange thing, we forget if not constantly reminded. We jump up and down with glee, say hallelujah, amen give me unrestrained markets and let them go where they will. We say, Drill baby drill and bring down the cost of gas at the pump. We say, a person or corporation (oh forgive me I forgot they are persons too) should be able to do anything, say anything without restriction, restraint or regulation. We forget, perhaps we want to forget we have been down this road and brought this nation to its knees.

This is one result of the Free Market with no restrictions.

Image from the Dust Bowl, man-made disaster

Want to know about the Dust bowl? The disaster brought about by greed and unrestrained commodity markets, in this case wheat, do some research on the Dust Bowl. It took FDR investing in research and re-development of the region to change the Dust Bowl disaster. I recommend watching the PBS special now airing http://www.pbs.org/kenburns/dustbowl/

Seattle Hooverville, Great Depression

These tent cities were built outside of most large cities across the nation during the Great Depression. People thrown from their homes and migrating to find work, sound familiar? What brought on the Great Depression? All the money and resources held by a very small contingent and unregulated banking. It took a world war, horrifying loss of life and Glass-Stegall and the Securities and Exchange Act to bring an end to the Great Depression.

Cuyahoga River burns due to chemicals and pollution

Unrestrained the Cuyahoga River burned. Chemicals had been dumped for years and finally this river along with others showed the world what happens when man pays no attention.

Just one sign, unrestrained and state supported

Until 1964 business could do whatever they like, whether using public or private lands. Got an idea? Theater, restaurant, how about a water fountain in the deep south? No matter what it is, you only need provide it to White Folks, they are human the rest of humanity not so much. That was the reasoning of Jim Crow and it was not only allowed it was supported by law. Libertarians believe and it is stated in their platform; racism, sexism and gender orientation are perfectly legitimate reasons for bias and any business owner should be allowed to place a sign in their window, like this:

December 2011, Ohio

That date isn’t wrong, in fact both Ron and Rand Paul supported this business owners position.

Floating Pacific Trash Island

It is estimated the floating trash island in the Pacific is bigger than the state of Texas. It is made up mostly of plastics and destructive to sea life. Man could change this, we could replace nearly all plastics with Industrial Hemp products, instead we allow the natural product which has no pharmaceutical use to remain a controlled substance requiring a license to grow from the DEA. It is estimated there are at least 25,000 products possible to make from Industrial Hemp, many of these can be found in the Floating Trash Island.

BP Deepwater spill

This wasn’t the first and it likely won’t be the last as drilling continues off every shoreline where the potential for fossil fuels exist. With minimal regulation or oversight and massive profits just waiting to be pumped to the surface, why worry if a fuel lives are lost. Right?

This is the world, the world of Ayn Rand, Paul Ryan and Free Markets without oversight, regulation or restrictions. But is this the world we want? I can only say this isn’t the world I want to leave for my children or grandchildren.

Filed Under: Politics, Series: Platforms & Ideologies Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

On My Knees

October 13, 2012 by

I haven’t forgiven this doesn’t mean I want them dead it just means I don’t forgive their violence. It also means I think sometimes, those days when crawling out of bed are so hard, I want them to hurt like I hurt. Some days, those days when I think I will breakdown and call the doctor begging for something stronger than Ibuprofen 800 for pain management I think Damn them to hell forever, I don’t want to live my life this way and my fury rises up and I weep. I cannot help the way I feel I am not a saint, my halo has not been granted.

For about eight years, I have been an activist in the criminal justice system. I speak in a program called Victim Impact inside of the Prison system of Texas. I speak to offenders in Federal, State and Juvenile lock-up and to the Parole groups ordered into the program. I do not speak out of hate or revenge; I don’t speak to hammer a captive audience with anger. I speak because I hope each time to touch one heart; just one would be enough for me. One heart that will leave the room with a different perspective on the relationship between themselves and their acts, their victims that includes their own families, their children and of course, the person they directly harmed.

I have spent eight years telling my story. There are some days when I walk into the rooms and look out at the faces I am decimated by their youth. I ask how many have children, they all raise their hands and I consider the lives of my three offenders, just children themselves twenty years ago at the time our lives intersected, each with at least one parent behind bars at the time they kidnapped and shot me three times. Their histories are the genesis of my activism, the framework of my thinking about how we each create the ever-expanding ripples through our judgment, acts, remorse and yes-even forgiveness.

Over the years, I have evolved, I thought. I believe each of us has the ability to reform our life, that with few exceptions each of us has the capacity to change our lives. If I didn’t believe this, I could not walk through the gates of prisons, stand before violent offenders, and say I believe they have the capability to make positive change. If I didn’t believe compassion and empathy existed, even in the most hardened of humans, I could not stand before them and say to them…

“You have the ability to change the life of your children. You have the ability to change your own life by tapping into your empathy.”

Now I have to ask myself is all I do and all I say simply a panacea for my ego or perhaps simply a pragmatic intellectual exercise that I haven’t truly absorbed into my heart and spirit. Perhaps, it is something else altogether. Perhaps what I say only applies to everyone else, offenders and victims together but not to me and not to my offenders. I have run into a brick wall, the wall of my intellect fighting my heart. My heart is winning today. My heart won last Wednesday and has won every day since Wednesday since I opened the letter from the Texas State Board of Pardons and Paroles.

“This is to inform you Your Offender has been granted Parole”

Charge: 2 Counts Attempted Capital Murder w/Deadly

Sentence: 35 years, 20 years

Sentence Date: April 13, 1993

Release Date: March 9, 2027

Parole Granted: October 4, 2012

When I opened that letter I was sitting at my desk, on the phone with my heart sister Red I think I went silent, the tears started, my heart stopped. I am not a Saint. I am barely human. My heart sister didn’t know, I slipped from my chair to my knees and had I not been on the phone with her my primal scream would have shook the walls. Instead all I could do is ask her to stop, stop talking please give me a minute, please let me read to her what I had just silently read to myself. The tears continued as I sobbed, I had already memorized the words though I didn’t have to read them. My life, dammit My Life.

My letters to the Parole Board obviously did not matter. My discussion with the head of the Parole board at Powledge Unit, none of that mattered. Clearly, I could have simply ignored all of that and the outcome would have been the same. My life, all the days I can’t move without wanting to fall to the floor that is worth twenty years. There is something far worse though, something that is causing me to want to crawl into my closet and stay there, re-examine myself closely.

I am not a saint, not that I have ever proposed I was. But I thought I was better than this. Better than demanding my pound of flesh. Better than demanding revenge. I did not realize I had not reconciled my pragmatic intellectual self, the part that believes remorse, rehabilitation and re-entry is not only possible but the hoped for outcome. I did not know this about myself, did not understand I had not brought my heart and mind together that I meant it, but not about MY OFFENDERS. I did not know this would cause me such fury.

I didn’t know I lacked compassion I think this devastates me more than I can even begin to measure.

I didn’t know I was false a sham. This also devastates me.

Filed Under: Series: Crime and Punishment Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

First Love

September 17, 2012 by

Many years ago, when I was 18 I married the man who saved my life. I loved him desperately at the time, thought I couldn’t draw breath without his smile. Because we were good together but we were also really bad together. He was ready to settle down and be a husband, be a man, but not really. I was still spinning, from all the pain that had been inflicted on me and that I had inflicted on myself. I didn’t know how to love with my whole heart and didn’t know how to trust anyone to love me. Then again, perhaps I knew enough not to trust.

Although we were married for five years, we did not spend the entire time living together, in fact spent less than two years under the same roof. When I was 23 we came together for a brief time because I wanted to see him, to know what I was walking away from, what I was giving away. My heart hurt then, I knew I still loved him but we couldn’t be together because I was ready to heal and grow up and he couldn’t be part of it. The baggage we had didn’t belong together and the life I wanted didn’t have a place for our history.

I had shared all my secrets with him; he knew the darkest parts of me. He let me cry them out in fury and fear. He never told me it would be ‘okay’, only that he wouldn’t let anyone else hurt me, ever. I believed him. Sometimes he told me I was strong, but he also told me I could be stronger that I could be more. He hated my weakness and my fear of the world, when I was 18 I was afraid sometimes even of him, mostly I was afraid he would fail me, or worse still that I would fail him.

We failed each other.

I have married since then of course, badly and well. I have loved since then, also badly and well. Each time I near a milestone, a birthday or an anniversary I wonder though what would have been had we been different, or in different places in our life. Was his love for me conditional on his need to save me? I often think this might have been a part of it, I was broken and he set about to fix me. Within our marriage, during our time together I didn’t grow stronger but dependent on his approval. My heart beat for him, his anger would send me in a tailspin. We had a normal marriage with normal arguments that couples have, but looking back I wonder now if this is true given how truly dysfunctional I was.

I was blind to his faults, seeing only his care for his extended family and me as the measure of the man he was. His care was strange though, did not make sense to anyone but him. I am grateful today but then I only wondered why he put his future, his wife and his life in danger. He sent me away, telling me nothing but that I must go that I was a risk he couldn’t afford. I left broken hearted with an uncertain future, rejected by the man who promised to love me and to save me.

My husband was an armed robber.

I had returned finally to my father’s house. I was across country when a phone call came from my sister-in-law, she told me my husband had been convicted of armed robbery along with two of his cousins. This was how he had been paying the bills, no one knew. Not for months, but he knew that soon they would be caught and this is why he sent his daughter and me away. He was sent to prison, I wrote him while he was there but he said he wanted me to file for divorce, to end our marriage that it would be best for me.

I didn’t do it. I would not do it until he was released.

Three years later, he was released from prison on parole. I had saved my money to return to Texas to see my now convict husband. I didn’t know what I thought of the situation. I still loved him in my heart but I had gotten stronger, I had started to dream of a new life. In our letters, we had shared our dreams and they weren’t the same.

I took the bus from Seattle to Austin; it gave me time to think. He met me at the bus station in Austin. He looked the same, his smile was still the same but his eyes were clouded with pain. It was a sad reconciliation; we stood in the middle of the station and held each other. We had both changed; we were different people with hopes and dreams that flowed in different directions. I didn’t have money back then for hotels, I stayed at his sister’s house and he was staying with his mother.

We sat up late that first night we talked until morning. I asked the question I never asked in my letters.

Why?

He couldn’t answer; maybe he just wouldn’t answer. We talked about hopes, dreams and the future. We talked about love. In the end, we talked about ending our marriage. We both cried. For three days, we talked and we cried. We hugged and we cried some more.

At the end of those three days, he took me back to the bus station and put me back on the bus to Seattle. He stood and watched me leave, he waved as the bus left the station; he didn’t smile just a small wave of his hand. We knew it was the end and I think we were both sad.

He knew me better than any person in my life ever had. I think he disappointed me worse than any person ever had. Now and then, I search for him, just to know that he is still on the earth. I think I would be sad to find out he was no longer alive. He was my first real love.

Filed Under: Love & Marriage Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

Letting go of Animosity

September 9, 2012 by

Last week I was in Seattle where both my mother’s live, what a strange twist of circumstance and fate that is. Originally my trip was planned so I could step into the role I have always played so well, the one I am so expert at, Bad and Evil Daughter to my second mother. The plan was for me to move my second mother from the apartment she had lived in for 28 years to Assisted Living, all in a single fell swoop.

The strategy was laid. The deposit was made on her new apartment in the Assisted Living place; it is literally two blocks from where she is now. It is a nice apartment, frankly nicer than where she is living today. The movers were arranged for and the time agreed. Her home care support was notified so they could start preparing her, reminding her she was moving. My second mother has dementia, her memory and cognitive skills on a scale of 1 to 5, five being the best, are approaching two now.

I was going to spend my Labor Day weekend moving my second mother into her new Assisted Living facility. It isn’t what I wanted to do and I approached this task with much trepidation, some resentment and frankly some fear. Anyone who has read Broken Chains knows the story of my relationship with my second mother, the time leading up to this weekend had been filled with a great deal of soul searching and angst. I landed in Seattle Thursday night though and made my way to the hotel with some peace in my heart. It would all be fine, my brother was convinced all the pieces were in place and everything would be fine.

Well, maybe not so fine. The movers, who were supposed to arrive at 9am on Friday morning, arrived at 7am instead. Was I confused? I am certain I wasn’t, in fact I had the move confirmation right there on my handy CrackBerry, right there in green and lime green, 9am. Nevertheless, let me rush across the bridge to and get things moving. When I arrived at my second mom’s apartment, no one was there but her and she was still in bed sound asleep. You cannot get a 92-year-old woman with dementia out of bed and tell her, “come on old woman it’s moving day!” This is simply not the way things work, hell this approach wouldn’t work for me and I am significantly younger. It took her nearly 20 minutes to realize who I was and that I was there, in her apartment.

We talked about her move. She was genuinely confused and resistant to any thought of moving. She doesn’t remember falling and has remained on the floor until her home aid comes the next day. She believes she can continue to live independently and that she is not a danger to herself. She doesn’t remember that she forgets to eat or that she has bouts of incontinence. We had the same conversation at least seven times in the space of an hour.

I called my brother in Korea, it was 3am there but I did not care because I was doing this for him. He didn’t want to be the Bad and Evil Son. We had gone through this with our father who had Alzheimer’s, my brother didn’t understand how bad it was, how horrific the failure was. My brother couldn’t face the failure of our fathers mind. Now we faced the same issue, he didn’t understand or couldn’t face the failure of our mother; she said ‘yes’ but did not retain the information.

I sent the movers away agreeing to pay for their time. I sat with my second mother and continued to talk about the move, about what she needed to make her comfortable with it. I wrote on her White Board, “You Are Moving to Ballard Manor”. I gave money to her favorite caregiver to buy moving boxes so she could start sorting some of her personal things when Veronica was with her, it helps her to feel in control.

I will never hear from my second mother the words I spent my entire life wishing to hear; never will I hear any of these;

Mom and I, San Marco Square, Venice Italy 1965

“I love you”

“I am sorry I hurt you”

“I understand”

Despite my original trepidation, anger and fear going out to Seattle to be the Bad and Evil Daughter, I am glad I went. Although I don’t think my mother knows this, we made peace. She is at the end of her life and I realized in sitting with her over the days I was there, despite it all she deserves my protection and care. For her humanity, for the fact that she was so greatly damaged as a child and was unable to heal throughout her long life she deserves my protection and care. I came away knowing I would always have a small hole, but it was one I could fill by preserving her dignity.

To the other side of this trip, the time I didn’t know I would have I filled in a way I hadn’t originally considered. Early this year I had reached out my first mother, we hadn’t spoken in several years and at the urging of one of my siblings I opened the communication door again. I wanted to repair old wounds and re-create a relationship with my first mother; we had a rocky start the first time. With this in mind, well I just picked up the phone and called asking if I could come to Vashon Island for to visit.

Ferry to Vashon Island

Why not? Surprise I am here!

One visit turned into two, they were both wonderful and peaceful. We were both I think changed in some fundamental ways by life and our experiences. We were both different and the same, but both ready for a different relationship with each other. For me, it was easier to internalize ‘this is my mother, blood and she did what was best.’ I had always pragmatically thought so, but my emotions had overruled my thinking and I wanted to lay at her feet so much of my pain, even when I didn’t realize I was doing this. I can’t speak for her, but at least on the surface she was softer though I worry for her health.

The bonus visit was with one of my siblings, a younger sister! I learned something on this trip, though in my head I have always known. I have this large extended family, some of whom I keep up with at least within the context of social media and some of whom I rarely talk to at all. I think we do ourselves such a grave and terrible disservice by losing sight of the bonds that tie us together. We don’t have to love one another, but at least for me given my status as an adopted child I want at least the chance to know who I love and whether I can love you before I let go entirely.

If you are confused by my references to mothers:

First Mother – my biological mother

Second Mother – my adopted mother

Filed Under: Family Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,
«Previous Page
Next Page»