more like falling in love

metamorphosis of the american dream

Fiddling with my phone this morning trying to get the motivation to get out of bed and start the day when I read this article from the USA today: USA Today: 4 in 5 in USA near poverty, no work

It's a glimpse of the reality facing the majority of so many Americans. The American Dream I fear is a dead thing or if not dead greatly altered. I don't know maybe I'm way off. Maybe I'm being too pessimistic. In the past, The American Dream was very much was connected to economic success. If my experience in the workforce is any indicator of the course were on as a nation, then we all should be concerned. I had a job at the same company for ten years, an unprecedented thing in our day in age. It started out promising - regular raises, OK health insurance, actual dental as an option - but over the years it deteriorated severely - pay cuts, health insurance taken away, dental canceled, layoffs, more work for less money. My experience isn't the only one like that. There are those that would say it's my own fault for staying as long as I did. I guess that is technically true but also very shortsighted and slightly condescending.

Maybe I'm just able to be more compassionate to those struggling because I've been there. Sometimes you read the comments on articles like this and see how vicious, vengeful, and vindictive some people can be towards the struggling downtrodden. Some are so quick to blame and judge; there is very much this "I got mine, so f*** you" attitude, "If you're struggling, it's all your fault: you did it to yourself." It's a very prideful, arrogant spirit that can be so critical of others. It comes from a person who forgets no one succeeds alone. Someone helped them at some point. I know for me, I didn't get where I am alone. Yes, I had to be motivated and be responsible, but I also had people who cared about me and helped me greatly.

I guess I really believe in the idea of pay it forward. I don't attribute my success to myself alone. I want to help others like I've been helped...

The best movie I have seen this summer was The Internship with Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson. I really liked it. Behind all the fluff there was a real story there. So many Americans have had to start over in the professional life and even personal life for many reasons - the economy, the loss of an entire job sector, the competition that exists in the workforce. I know I am only 29 years old but I feel like I too am on my "second act" so to speak. Nursing school is my hitting of the reset button. People need to be allowed that, especially in the changing world we live in. The days of working for the same company forever and having a decent pension and good benefits are gone - FOREVER GONE. Maybe the way we did things before just wasn't sustainable...or maybe the "Greed is good" mentality has finally bit us in the ass...

This whole thing has really made me think about what "The American Dream" is. What does it look like? Is it unreasonable? Is the bar set too low? Too high? I have no idea.

What really hits home for me is how I don't want to equate success with accolades, diplomas, pay scales, and 401(k)s. A successful life to me is having a few best friendships, the ability to enjoy an occasional beer and bonfire, and being able to afford a roof over my head and food on the table. I don't think that is too modest of a list; I don't think that is a bad place to settle - anything beyond that is gravy. It's what we share and leave behind in actions, words, feelings, and behaviours that makes a life. Politics, car brands, and iPhones don't get a person cherished in another's memory and heart.

Everyone is making a legacy: what's at the root of yours?

unending sunrises, continual mercies

Lamentations 3:22-23
The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.

Time is a complex matter (Wait, is time matter? Oh dear...). The organization of the chaotic universe and the theoretical likelihood of life as we know it ever existing and continuing to exist are more than I can grasp. I wish I was better at understanding mathematics and physics but it's way over my level of comprehension.

The HowSuffWorks website has a lot of information about time and Einstein's Theory of Relativity. I won't even attempt to get into it for my ignorance would show instantly. I wish I had a mind for complex math and science; it's all I can do sometimes to keep my head above water in human biology for nursing. ;)

All I really wanted to say is that somewhere on our planet right now the sun is rising for people and if the sun is always rising somewhere, than the promise of the verse above becomes even more beautiful. Morning is always dawning so on a macro-level the assurance of the LORD's mercies is perpetual. Like the sun rising continually, the LORD mercies are ending. xo

call me "baby"

Do you know what my favorite movie as a kid was? It wasn't Cinderella, Fivel's An American Tail, or even the classic The Princess Bride. Nope. I, from the age young age of four, liked watching Dirty Dancing. How wrong and how telling. Me and my future therapist will have much to discuss.

There is a reason I bring this up, you will see. Sadly, I am home this week, banned from going to my clinical for nursing because I have contracted what normally only babies get, roseola. I woke up on Sunday mornings with a terrible rash on my face, neck, and arms. I thought at first it was an allergic reaction to something and would clear up but sadly when I awoke on Monday with a 101 fever and the spread of the rash I knew medical intervention was necessary.

I am feeling much better today. Temperature is 98.9, so we're nearly normal, and the rash is practically gone. Roseola is caused by a viral infection. There is no treatment for it but to let it run its course. The nice doctor at the ER gave me ibuprofen and some benadryl and said I would feel better soon; He was right.

Leave it to me to contract an illness that normally babies and toddlers are afflicted with. Seriously, I can't believe it even now. The doctor looked shocked when he looked at the severity and the type of the rash. Thank God school has been super nice about this matter. Their understanding has relieved a lot of my tension. I don't want anything to jeopardize my education tract, not after I have gone through so much so far to get here now; I will not be deterred off my course.

In Dirty Dancing, the main character is nicknamed Baby and I got to thinking as I was lying in bed dazed from fever with my baby illness - I'm still a baby in many ways. I think some of us are forced to grow up in many ways before we should have had to and allowed to delaying growing up in many ways we should have by now. We all have our burdens to carry and experiences thrust upon us. They say growing up is hard to do and I think our generation is experiencing that problem in a way no other before it has. When college is recommended even demanded, but graduation often offers nothing but huge debt and minimum wage employment, when health care is a privilege for the few and not a right for the many, when the cost of living exceeds what one can earn - growing up is exceedingly hard for my generation. I don't see how that will improve.

My Granny nursed me back to health. With my blotchy spots, fever and overall malaise, I felt like a little girl again. I remember when I was back in second grade with the chicken pox and Granny again was the one who took care of me, waited on me, tended me, fussed over me - loved me.

Perhaps my affliction with my baby illness was given for my renewal of mind and perspective. May our maturity match our age and may our age never dull our childlike enthusiasm, hope, and capacity for innocence.

Ponder child that it's time to mature...

i want to apologize

 “I don’t know how to say this. Um, I just...I want to apologize for anything that I ever did to you, ’cause I was messed up...for a long time..."
-Jenny, from the film Forrest Gump

Me and my Google searches, I tell ya. I learn a lot from what I "randomly" find:

http://www.baggagereclaim.co.uk/letting-go-of-a-relationshipthat-doesnt-exist/

Sigh. OK. Let's start with what I am not apologizing for. I don't apologize for caring about you, for liking you, for having hopes and good wishes for you. That hasn't changed. I know that the world is full of talkers who say they care but their actions show they don't. But I hope it's known, I hope my character isn't so foreign to you, that you would think I would speak insincerely or flippantly. I really do want you to be happy; from my heart, I wish you the best and most this life has to offer. I'm not sorry for New Years.

What I do apologize for is being messed up in my head and heart. That's all me. It had nothing to do with anyone else. It doesn't even really matter if you understand why but I want to share this. All my life, I have never belonged or fit in. Never. I've always felt like and been an outsider. It started early, having no dad and not having him ever mentioned or brought up ever in all my childhood, put me on the outside early. As I grew older in years I felt like less, I felt like my very existence was a failure and a mistake. I can't explain all the reasons why that is, but I can see that truth about myself. It's not easy to face but it's also oddly freeing. Bittersweet I guess is the word... Anyway, because of my deep seated belief that I was a mistake and my feelings of being an outsider, I believed that happiness wasn't meant for me. Relationships, love, acceptance - those things were for other people, better people, than I. "We accept the love we think we deserve." It's true and I realize it now in a way I never appreciated before.

I'm sorry if you got caught in the cross hairs of my mess. I really am. Gaining self awareness, taking responsibilities for ones own actions and for ones own thoughts and emotions is brutal and very real. I appreciate a little better what amazing courage it takes for an addict to face their addictions and truly change. I'm awed by their courage and in a way revere their process, if that makes any sense. I'm sorry that I believed strongly in what never really existed and that I fought so hard to believe in it even when it was obvious that it was never going to happen.

I apologize for the hurts I caused others foremost and secondly for the hurts I caused myself. The first step to getting well they say is the ability to admit there's a problem. That is my hope in this new start.

God uses Google

figuring the heart of my discontent: God uses Google

Today I Googled a rather complex search... I typed into the search bar the words "severe unhappiness and dissatisfaction with god." I hoped that by typing the truth of my feelings into the little box that makes what we search for appear like magic, I would get myself out from under the cloud of unhappiness, fumigate the weeds of hardheartedness, and pluck out the seeds and sproutlings of bitterness that are a part of me.

These are the two things I came across; odd that both examples contain the idea of a fish out of water. By "odd" I mean God-divine, for some coincidences are not coincidences at all but God moments, moments where the Infinite Divine meets us, the temporary vapor. This is a thunderous loud quite realization for me. I blog this to remember this moment, so that when I despair again and feel profound discouragement - I will not wallow there in self-pitying dismay and debilitating depression but instead remember, this is not my home.

Link 1: http://www.focusonthefamily.com/faith/faith_in_life/dicovering_your_god_given_purpose.aspx

Link 2: www.suscopts.org/mightyarrows/vol3_no1/unhappiness.pdf

 

worrying over "no worries"

When I say no worries to someone, I mean it sincerely. "No worries about getting back to me right away" "No worries about being a bit late to the movie" "No worries if you can't make it" - I say it because I recognize that are times when I will need someone to say that to me - it's OK if you can't reply right away, I understand you're running late... so on.

I was recently scolded for my use of the phrase "no worries" which really hurt me and then pissed me off actually. This event has forced me to spend entirely too much time analyzing my use of what I intend to be a non worrying phrase. This is bullshit.

Who criticizes the use of the phrase "no worries"? A person who should be worried, that's who.

The one who said this to me has jerked me around, been moody and distant, noncommittal to making ANY plans, basically shutdown any meaningful communication - AND I AM THE ONE BEING SCOLDED! Seriously. SERIOUSLY!

I said "no worries" to this person because I didn't want to make them feel pressured or put on the spot. They're going through a tough time in their life right now. I was trying to be nice, to put them at ease. (Why am I such a friggin doormat sometimes??!!) They haven't been the most receptive to my requests as of late; I probably said it more to myself than anything, to remind myself that if they do or don't take interest or respond the way I expect or want, that it isn't the end of the world. "No worries self, it will be OK no matter what" I sometimes have to talk like that to myself. It keeps me from quickly spiraling into a vortex of depression or a pissed off rage of bitchiness (whichever really, it could go either way).What can I say, sometimes my mental health is extremely fragile; this we know by now.

I would call this person out on their behavior if I thought for a second that how I felt or that what I thought meant anything. But I don't believe it does, not really. So I say nothing. Why risk honesty, truth, and feelings with someone who has shown disregard for them in the past? It doesn't seem like a wise idea. I don't trust this person so how can I be honest, transparent, authentic, and real with them? It's a no brainer, really, or so it seems to me.

In a relationship that has become all about what they want, how they feel, what they need, when they need it - it's hard to be confident, to be assertive, to be normal even.

Did I use "no worries" in a passive aggressive way? Maybe... if I'm honest... maybe I did. But in my defense, I don't know which way is up in this relationship. I do know that a little grace, a little compassion, a little patience with me, a little less trigger on pointing out every and any perceived fault - would be fucking awesome and completely deserved.

Some self talk, Oprah would suggest that right? "Sigh. Breathe. OK. OK. No one likes to be criticized. No one likes when someone finds fault. Just take a deep breath. If there is something to be learned from this, learn it and move on. Don't berate yourself. Don't get (stay) pissed off. AND don't let anyone dull your sparkle or make you doubt who you are and settle for less than you deserve."

we're all addicts

I cannot attest to the validity of these quotes. I hope they are accurately cited. I have gathered them from www.goodreads.com. As for the image of the boat in the storm, I couldn't find who the artist is but their work here is amazing.

"I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of some strange impending doom.”
― Edgar Allan Poe

“Even when I took the drugs I realized that this just wasn't fun anymore. The drugs had become a part of my routine. Something to wake me up. Something to help me sleep. Something to calm my nerves. There was a time when I was able to wake up, go to sleep, and have fun without a pill or a line to help me function. These days it felt like I might have a nervous breakdown if I didn't have them.”
― Cherie Currie

“I understand addiction now. I never did before, you know. How could a man (or a woman) do something so self-destructive, knowing that they’re hurting not only themselves, but the people they love? It seemed that it would be so incredibly easy for them to just not take that next drink. Just stop. It’s so simple, really. But as so often happens with me, my arrogance kept me from seeing the truth of the matter.
I see it now though.
Every day, I tell myself it will be the last. Every night, as I’m falling asleep in his bed, I tell myself that tomorrow I’ll book a flight to Paris, or Hawaii, or maybe New York. It doesn’t matter where I go, as long as it’s not here. I need to get away from Phoenix—away from him—before this goes even one step further.
And then he touches me again, and my convictions disappear like smoke in the wind.
This cannot end well. That’s the crux of the matter, Sweets. I’ve been down this road before—you know I have—and there’s only heartache at the end. There’s no happy ending waiting for me like there was for you and Matt. If I stay here with him, I will become restless and angry. It’s happening already, and I cannot stop it. I’m becoming bitter and terribly resentful. Before long, I will be intolerable, and eventually, he’ll leave me. But if I do what I have to do, what my very nature compels me to do, and move on, the end is no better. One way or another, he’ll be gone. Is it not wiser to end it now, Sweets, before it gets to that point? Is it not better to accept that this happiness I have is destined to self-destruct?
Tomorrow I will leave. Tomorrow I will stop delaying the inevitable. Tomorrow I will quit lying to myself, and to him.
Tomorrow.
What about today, you ask? Today it’s already too late. He’ll be home soon, and I have dinner on the stove, and wine chilling in the fridge. And he will smile at me when he comes through the door, and I will pretend like this fragile, dangerous thing we have created between us can last forever.
Just one last time, Sweets. Just one last fix. That’s all I need.
And that is why I now understand addiction.”
― Marie Sexton, Strawberries for Dessert

“The Moth don't care when he sees The Flame.
He might get burned, but he's in the game.
And once he's in, he can't go back, he'll
Beat his wings 'til he burns them black...
No, The Moth don't care when he sees The Flame. . .
The Moth don't care if The Flame is real,
'Cause Flame and Moth got a sweetheart deal.
And nothing fuels a good flirtation,
Like Need and Anger and Desperation...
No, The Moth don't care if The Flame is real. . . ”
― Aimee Mann




separate me from my heart

We are well into summer now. Every weekend contains a new "must see" summer movie. I remember several years ago now, the must see summer movie was the latest installment from The Pirates of the Caribbean series. I mention the series because in them there is the story line of Davy Jones physically cutting out his own heart to separate himself from the pain of love and betrayal.The concept and imagery of a person cutting their own heart out and locking it in box where it beats separated from its owner, is very interesting. I think it has a very literary tone to it and I think the idea, though very mystical, is very relateable.

Another movie, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, has characters going through a procedure to have memories removed - unpleasant memories as well happy memories. The memory itself is not the issue, it's the people involved in them. The issue of our past aren't often so much a matter of what exactly happened but of who was involved. It's more a matter of what they meant to us in that memory and what they mean or don't mean to us now. We look back at our pasts through the lens of our current life and that lens can enhance that memory or darken it. What is interesting about the movie, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, is that removing a memory often resulted in removing a very large part what made that character that character. The idea of removing a painful memory has an appeal on the surface. A person who's spouse cheats on them and lies to them suffers more than a citizen who's congressional representative takes a cut back from a lobbyist. Yes the dishonesty may affect the citizen to some degree but the infidelity and betrayal of one's spouse would hurt in a more direct, personal, permanent way. Which part of the event would you remove? The knowledge of the infidelity, the memory of the infidelity, all the moments and lies surrounding it? How much memory would need to be eliminated to allow someone to really forget?

Hearing about a tragedy that occurs hundreds of miles away, isn't as devastating as those events that occur under our own roof. We may feel bad or sorry for "them out there" but we aren't really tuned in to the loss; it isn't personal for us. There is the flip side - where we hear about someone helping another person out of a sticky situation. We may be happy for them but it doesn't really mean much to us - not like it would if we were the one rescued.

The direct impact we can have on those around us is awesome and terrible at the same time. We are not born with the mentality of putting others first. It is more tragic that this truth can remain unchanged even after having children or getting married or making a friendship. The concept of "me before you" prevails all too often. Putting another persons needs before your own is just not done all that often. My heart has been thoughtful the last few days, turned towards those who have serious addiction struggles or deep seated mental issues. I wonder what role relationships played in their downward trajectory, their spiraling descent. Someone said to me the other day, "Water rises to the same level" meaning people will pull you down to make themselves feel better. "Misery loves company" to borrow another phrase. There are those in life who don't want to see others succeed because anothers joy doesn't make them feel good about their bad choices, misdeeds, or wasted chances. There is a great lack of honesty, transparency, and self examination in our culture.

I wish I had a nice beautiful bow to wrap this post up with but I can't come up with one. Genesis 24:45 says "Before I had finished praying in my heart..You God answered my prayer." I don't know if my heart is close to me or far from me, but the needs of my heart, the deepest longings contained within it, the capacity it has to love, is all known by God. So I ask Him, help me to pray from what feels my absent and irregular heart...

leave it alone: heal over

There seems to be two extremes that happen after an injury. The first extreme is to ignore the injury altogether; to deny it exists, do anything (drugs, alcohol, etc) to avoid dealing with the hurt. The second extreme is to pay too much attention to the injury; picking at it, cutting it open again and again, never letting it heal over.

We all at one time or another fall into these extremes camps.

As I watched the fireworks from New York on TV tonight - I took stock of another year and where I was last year verses now. Unfortunately, events of last year have left me with scars of pain and hurt more than peace and love. That is the truth. I guess in the end I sometimes wonder if all our wounds are self-inflicted. Yes, others hurt us, but I puzzle over how much of that is our own fault. We ignore our conscience, suppress it, deny it, and misplace it, all in the hope of getting "what we want." Though having to deny the very thing that helps make us who we are, our conscious, is a clue it will never work, that never stop us. Eyes wide shut - its just a reality that happens to all of us from time to time.

I think I have written about this before, but I think some people are born with melancholy spirits that are destined it seems to live most their life alone. We're approaching 30 years now for me. Nothing is anybodies fault but things happen. I think it would be better for me to stop picking at the scabs in my life and hating the scars already formed - and to instead embrace them as evidence that Jesus and I will have much to talk about. I know that He is not a consolation for the miseries and disappointments of life, but it isn't wrong to eagerly await His insight into, His acceptance of, and His healing over of all wounds and inefficiencies.

There is much to be thankful for. On this night celebrating American independence, a celebrating of the end of tyranny, the beginning of something that was new, full of hope and light and wisdom and tragic beautiful humanity - there is much to be thankful for. I can see that. Please don't think from any of more morose posts, that I don't value all that I have here in this country and that I don't appreciate all it took to get us here. We have much to rejoice over every single day, easy or difficult.

I went on my nightly walk ritual last night and I had something by Andy Stanley on. It really hit me and I hope it helps you too: "Friends influence the direction and quality of our lives. The thing that makes friendship so great, also makes friendship so dangerous. When I am with a friend I drop my guard. The reason we are attracted to certain people is we are all acceptance magnets. We are attracted to acceptance and repelled by rejection - when I am with people who accept me I drop my guard. When I am with people who accept me, I am the most open to influence that I will ever be. Acceptance leads to influence. When I am in a environment where I am completely accepted, I am open to the influence of the people around me. Some of the most addictive behaviours imaginable begin as pastime fun with friends."

psalm from my soul

psalm from my soul

I'm hoping for indifference to envelop me, to numb me with its embrace. That's my desire.

I feel my demon haunting my steps, lurking, waiting for me to accept the inevitable truth that waits to quietly drown me. The demon emanates everything that is the antithesis of light. Its black wings obscure my sight and its razor claws leave marks upon my flesh visible and invisible.

I used to fear getting swallowed whole by this darkness, the emptiness scaring me into silent screams.

My terror now is I'm not scared of that reality anymore, or at least I'm not scared in the same way. I'm too tired to fight against it. That which has sought to suffocate me for so long, I'm willing to accept now.

One can only tread water alone in the turbulent void of the sea for so long. If I was better at the games we play, if I could pretend and really convince myself of lies, then maybe I wouldn't turn toward the abyss so readily. But I am utterly convinced that I mean nothing to anyone; all my love is and will ever be a vain waste. From my conception to my decomposition I will experience it all without knowing what it was to be loved purely.

I wish I was a stronger person.

I once told someone that the story of God telling Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac was a lesson in how everything belongs to God (Genesis 22). God kept his promise and gave Abraham, Isaac, a beloved son after much much waiting when all human reason to hope was lost. God keeps His promises, He gives us everything we have, blessings and curses. God isn't wrong to demand difficult things from us and He's not wrong to ask us to surrender the things we love to Him. Everything we have received, in the end, all that we love, is God's anyway; He isn't wrong to take back what is His. That is not an easy lesson. We like to believe that what we see with our eyes, hold with our hands, love with our hearts, make with our bodies - is all ours alone, but it isn't. This truth would not make me so bitter if anything so precious really was mine to give back. At least then I would know I had truly had something real and been a part of something special.

You left me alone to struggle in the mud and muck. You awakened feelings only to make me doubt them. I was left unprotected, uninformed, exposed. You left me to be the prey of other men with weaker character than you. This is not friendship. This is not anything of depth. It was the most shallow of acquaintances. I will not believe different; like Jacob, I refuse to be comforted, I will not be easily appeased. What you call "care", your pleas for patience, are nothing but tactics, tools you use to disguise your indifference. Snarky, insincere, gwaker - that is your action, that is your character. Too harsh you think is my estimation? It is not. I searched for Darcy and found Vronsky yet again.

Oh to grow up, to take ownership for ones choices, to see things as they really are as they are happening. To not need hindsight to see error but to recognize it in them moment and avoid it. To act when we know we should. To move even when afraid. There are those that stand back and blame, find fault in our character, our appearance, our nature - they diminish and debase us. They are gamers, players, deceivers. They appear grownup but are no where near maturity. They come fairly bound only to stab us in the back with daggers.

The hero of this story, in the end, is me. No one - NO MAN, NO MOTHER, NO OTHER - will do what I must do for myself. All my anger towards others is really at the end anger at myself. Even if I am right about the shabby way some have behaved toward me, I can't blame in the end anyone but myself. I have accepted this treatment. I have let them hurt me. I will not wait anymore or ever again. I will live while there is still light to see, I will live while there is still time, I will live while the gates are open and the fruit is ripe and unspoiled. I will not rot on the vine and I will not let anyone make me regret ever again. I have something hopefully to offer someone else in this life. I will hope for the chance even if it takes a lifetime.