Rage against the dying of the light

Every morning I start my day off with a Facebook scroll down. I look to see who is saying what, doing what, to laugh, and to think. I went outside to breathe after several mornings of race-related, borderline hate-based, postings from people of all genres, colors, shapes, and genders (all a product of reactions of recent events). For some reason, I thought about Dylan Thomas's famous poetry and line stating, "Rage, rage against the dying of the light", and whilst I have always thought of this line as a fight in life in general, this morning I saw it a little differently.

Shouldn't we "rage against the dying of the light" in different ways than just in generality? and not just against death? Maybe, just maybe, the light is love, caring, peace, hope, and maybe there are really worse things than death. Is death what we should rage against? Or, is raging an oxymoron, because maybe it is the antecedent of rage to be in the "light"?

I think hate is worse than death. I think breeding vengeance is worse than death. I think making yourself above others of any race, creed, age, gender, body type, religion (or non-religion), just because you feel entitled is worse than death. I think harboring meanness and teaching our innocent youth to discriminate is worse than death. All those aforementioned seem awful dark to me. And yet, there is such a fine distinction here.

What we say with our words can effect so much, and yet so many fail to realize. Teach history to teach others what we did right and to not repeat what we did wrong, even if that history is 5 minutes ago. Teach love and non-discrimination, not perpetuate that which we know wrongfully exists and for most of us are completely disgusted with. Do not belittle in the face of anger. Try to make others see that we are more alike than we are different. Try to walk a mile in someone else's shoes, even when your shoes are dirty and wet. Remember, a vast majority of us have feet.

I am saddened when steps are taken backwards in my own personal "rage against the light" and attempts to share it, because in this case my rage is not rage at all...but love. I want to tell all my friends and neighbors of all kinds that I love them, because they, too, are worthy of love. I want to tell anyone who feels that they have been wronged as a people or a kind that I am sorry for the rage of a different sort and by a different type of person. There is evil in this world, and most likely there always will be. So, let's "rage against the dying of the light", let's rage in love and companionship, and maybe that evil won't be so perpetual and deep-stricken. Have hope. Have peace. Have love...and be indiscriminate.

"Do not go gentle into that good night" ~ Dylan Thomas

The good ol' benefit of the doubt

I've probably posted about this before. It is something I just cannot wrap my brain around...

Why on Earth can human beings not understand that respect (and perhaps -gasp- love) is a commonality that we should and can share even in times of disagreement. Whether it be questions or opinions, matters of the heart, soul, mind, religion, education, race/ethnicity, or political ideologies, WHY can we not respect a decent conversation, an individual, and a thought that opposes our own? Please excuse this trite question: Who is more of a successor: the holistic communicator, the vocal recluse, or the communication dictator? Duh.

There is no doubt that each personality has certain strong feelings towards at least one concept/basis in their livelihoods. It is what I would consider "normal' to have a strong discretion(s) towards a particular matter or situation at some given point... But WHY, why, must we push, disrespect, and downgrade those who do not agree, do not fit our molds, and who show, verbalize, or even seem to not feel as we do? It would be matter-of-factly ignorant to think that everyone is going to fit into our own personal conceptual system. It would be factitious to assume that those worthy of dignity must only come from this small pool that we consider to fit a standard.

Do those who consider themselves "right" (whether it be morally, or politically, or what-have-you) FEEL that they have some sort of authority to make those decisions and stances? What makes one better than another? Cannot love and disagreement go together? The answer: Of course it can. We disagree with all of our family members, our friends, and any other persons who come into our lives at some point, whether we realize it or not, and yet in certain instances we attempt to find a compromise, attempt to listen, and agree to disagree..

Why does this stop at certain points and within certain cases that we deem fit? Shouldn't this be a universal idealism (except in extreme situations)? Perhaps that is the issue, maybe we find extremism in places we should not? What happened to the good ol' benefit of the doubt? Personally, I have learned more from those whom I disagree with than from any person(s) that I see eye-to-eye with.

Value respect, show respect, and give respect, and I'm pretty sure it'll come right back at cha'. Disrespect others, put down their mental systems, and hit hard below the belt, and you'll find yourself having a very sore spot yourself.

(I'm done) :)

The grass is greener on the other side until I step over the fence and look back the other direction.

I was just thinking today about how much friendship dynamics change as our lives do. I miss hanging out for hours and hours laughing and goofing off..with what seemed like not a care in the world. I still have fantastic friends. The ones that still remain are very high quality. I know if I really need someone, I have friends to turn to. But, I do miss the days before full-time jobs, children, and responsibilities. It seems these "grown-up" changes made the endless hours with friends seem almost like a task rather than a pleasure.

I miss my time to hang out wherever and whenever, but I am so busy with kids, and cleaning, and chores, activities, and all the "things" that I have to do that it just exhausts me. I miss sitting on my couch alone with my best friend talking about all we have going on, giggling about who-knows-what, and sharing things we probably shouldn't with each other. I miss the opportunity to have meaningless fun with other people to take my brain away from everything else (without a screeching child interrupting or a spontaneous "ring around the rosy" mid-conversation").

It is just one of those trade-offs that happen in life, and it is most likely temporary. One day, I'll be wishing for this precious time back with my boys. Their youth gives me so much to do, and it limits my options on what I do and when I do it....but I still have a LOT to do. Fun things to do. I get tired... But, I get to see them grow, and change, and they are SO funny and cute. I'm sure in some-number of years, I will be whining to my girlfriend across the room that my babies are growing too fast, and I wish I could just sit at home and play with them for several more years. I'll have all the time I want for friends whenever and wherever, and I'll wish the clock would turn back... once again.

It is sort-of that "if you have curly hair you want straight, and if you have straight hair you want curly" or the "grass is greener in the other pasture" phenomenon. I tend want something different than what I have, it seems. Yet, that doesn't mean that I don't appreciate the current, while I anticipate the future, and reflect on the past.

Today it is about venting...

I love to blog, which I rarely make time to do, but today it really isn't about pleasure. It is about venting.

Haven't you ever had one of those moments where something minute and silly makes you break down, b/c you've been holding in so many concurrent emotions for so long that they all come flooding in at once? Well, this morning, I let the last surviving fish of Aden's flop down our kitchen sink drain. I was so careful. I put the drain cover in, poured the water slowly, and... all of a sudden he changed his fishy swimming course mid-pour. He jumped to the side. He landed in the sink, and when he did the sink drain pushed just enough to the side for him to slip down. (Adios, fishy).

Yes, I cried. I cried, b/c I didn't want my four-year-old son to be upset. He was still asleep, and I was going to have to tell him what happened. I cried, b/c I'm frustrated at how things are....how life is...You, know what I mean; No matter how much we try to control our environments, sometimes (most times) we just can't MAKE results. We do what we can, and we hope for the best.

I get SO tired of it. I am optimistic, really... but think everyone gets tired of it. I am exhausted with the result not being what I wanted or expected. I know I shouldn't expect, but isn't that just being human. It seems that way with every portion of life, really... Expectations either being met or being disappointed.

I need a break from it. I need to vent and cry and run away, but I don't usually. I just soak it in, over.. and over. Even in my blogs, I never go down to specifics in my personal "stuff".  Not only do I not want to (who wants to put their "stuff" online), but I also don't know that I could. I hold so much in for so long that I think I could explode with "stuff".

I guess talking in circles and in non-specifics helps, but I wish I could just let it ALL out...Oh well, I know that I won't and I can't. So, I'll just dry my tears, have a root beer party (in honor of Mr. Fishy), and go about my day. I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow. I usually do.

Strong and not strident: Inner conflict and strength

“As a woman who was raised in a society where it is implied that women should be agreeable and amenable, where speaking up for yourself can label you 'difficult', I personally have found it difficult to do that very thing. Why is it important to have personal boundaries and make sure they are not crossed? More importantly, how can we keep them while coming off strong and not strident?” (http://goop.com/newsletter/107/en/)

Monica Berg, a spiritual leader and writer, in the recent Goop newsletter, asked this question. In addition to her own response (see link above) stating, "Our own beliefs are only threatened when we don't know what they are,” several seemingly very intelligent and well-spoken women responded to her thought-provoking dialogue, as well. My brain turned as I pondered the different responses, which I sincerely appreciated: the importance of integrity, how we are "molded" by our environments, the successes of standing up for oneself, definitions of "strident", our fear of assertiveness and the implications of it, and just the complexity of the issue for women.

What I find strange is that amongst all of those intelligible women's reactions, I never heard how the intriguing nature of the question itself makes us wonderful and insightful creatures? How that we, as women, are nurturers by physiology, and yet we conquer ourselves and our environments to become powerful and meaningful products of society and of the world through the exact struggle we are attempting to conquer. Our bodies and minds are developed for the purpose of caring for and nurturing others. Yet, we are thrust into a world of situations in which our nurturing instincts are challenged, we are put to tests of integrity and mindfulness, and still we hold onto that which makes us feminine and individualize our patterns and decisions.  We still manage to care and nurture those whom we desire to, including ourselves.

I am proud that this question is even pondered. I am proud that a woman faces this issue. Why? Boundaries specific to our gender, and more importantly ourselves, are an important topic of discussion. We have personal boundaries and social boundaries that are individual and then we have those that are socially “mandated” to identify, define personally, define socially, and apply within a certain context. Complex? Yes, this is true (an understatement, really..haha). But, isn’t it the very complexity that we struggle with that makes us so special, that makes our struggle so unique, and that will empower us beyond the stratospheres of politics and elected roles. Isn’t it this very question that sets our facilities of communication and our desires aside from our male counterparts? Isn’t it true that we cannot know what our own beliefs are in a society if we are not knowledgeable about “society” itself? Definitions are not constant standards. They are malleable by context.

It is the search, the questions, the inner-reflection, the hope, the viability of integrity, and the mistakes that we learn from that give us our power and strength. It is the daily fight a woman has within herself and within her society that makes us so strong and promising. It is the decision to personally challenge the past and tread unknowingly through the present with our heads held high that makes us so grand. It is the choice to become and not just be that gives us our strength and helps us determine our boundaries.

Aden will be 4 in less than a week...Looking back

Aden's first picture with momma

2wks

Such a sweet baby

My little elf (2007)

1st birthday!

Always happy

Sweet face, baby blues

Day before his 2nd birthday

Time passes so fast

Now, we call him Mr. Personality :)

And he is still as sweet as the day he was born <3

I remember it like it was yesterday. Aden was born on November 28th, 2006 after HOURS of an epidural repeatedly wearing off and stalled labor via c-section. I remember my thoughts, hopes, dreams..and... ...misconceptions, all of it. The last 4 years with Aden have taught me a lifetime of lessons, patience, and love. He might as well have opened an entirely different universe for me. I was career-oriented, a perfectionist to say the least, and my mind set was completely different. Those mentalities prepared me for the rest of my life, but I am so happy to have become who I am because of him. I had never intended to become a stay-at-home-mother. I had intended to go back to work within months of my baby boy's arrival. But, as you can tell, life had other plans. Aden taught me a different type of appreciation, and he taught me to appreciate life's surprises. My husband talked me into having children (twice). Nope, I had NO maternal ideation...not really. I didn't have a clue what it took to raise a child, and I was horrified at the thought of being so selfless. Well, I can say that they were the two best decisions (to let go of the reins a little...or maybe a lot) that I ever made. I never in my WILDEST dreams could have imagined my life now, the fun I have had and will have, and the work and worry that is involved in raising a child. I look forward to a lifetime of work, worry, and fun surprises! Thank you for rocking my world, little man. I love you Aden Zachary, my precious boy!

Ignorance is NOT bliss

Ignorance may be painless and comforting to those with flightly lips, but to the world and people around the imbecility it can be quite distasteful and unpleasant. (It never ceases to amaze me.) There are two types of ignorance in my book: innocent, not-meaning-to-cause-harm ignorance...and then there is the mean, intentional, regretful, and downright plaguing ignorance that haunts mankind.

The ignorance of anyone who would go to a funeral and protest, especially a soldier's funeral, has to be an intentional and malicious stupidity. According to what other people have reported (I refuse to read media reports on this issue), recently, there has been an increase in protests at funerals for United States soldiers. How absurd! For one, no matter the feelings on war, combat, military choices, etc...protesting at a funeral only and simply makes a complete idiot of those who participate. The attention the protesters receive can NOT possibly be fruitful to their cause. I cannot imagine one empathetic, loving, and normal humane person would think that protesting at such an event would be a good idea.

This brings an entirely new definition to ignoramus. For one, the soldier's family has no control over the soldier's enlistment. They are sufferers of the deepest sort. They serve for our country, too, but without their own consent. How on EARTH can someone be so callous? It shouldn't matter the situation or cause. Protesting at someone's religious or non-religious grief-based ceremony or event should be completely federally prohibited (in my personal opinion). And, the absolute LEAST we could do for soldiers who serve our country is to protect them with law-based content and implementations, so their families may grieve without such abhorrent disruptions.

As for freedom of speech, I am ALL for it, but there are LINES that should be drawn. Do we allow students to say whatever they please in a public classroom? No. There are certain circumstances that warrant restriction for the common good. There are many issues that have been protested at funerals, and I cannot think of ONE that is worthy of the protest!

All in all, funeral-protest laws have been passed in at least 41 states, including: Alabama, Arkansas, Colorado, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Idaho, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Virginia, Washington, Wisconsin and Wyoming.