The Unbearable Lightness of Being...

Today is the day we are told to: "Never Forget."  It was a year ago today, during a cross country road trip, that I became immersed in the attempt at unlocking the secrets of the universe, and so happened to stumble upon Arlington National Cemetery.  At the time, I was detached from all things media and didn't even realize what day it was; hence, showing up at our nation's cemetery in a t-shirt, jeans and messy pony tail.  The circumstances of September 11, 2012, much like in 2001, brought me to my knees yet again over a decade later.

It happened while walking among the headstones.  A black Cadillac with tinted windows approached me slowly from behind and a man in a suit wearing an earpiece - like an agent out of The Matrix - rolled down his window and beckoned me to come over.  My aimless stroll turned to an uneasy walk of worry as I contemplated his reasons for needing to talk to me.  In a low, hushed voice he told me to walk to Section 60 and to do so quickly.  Surprised by his orders, my face must have shown how confused I was, to which he responded with a wink, "You won't be disappointed."

 While making my way to Section 60 I noticed it was eerily void of visitors, except for a well dressed man placing flowers on a grave.  Hurriedly walking, I ran through various scenarios as to what lay before me.  Reaching the destination I was confronted by yet another secret service type in full S.W.A.T gear in front of a black SUV bearing an official government seal.  I became nervous as I approached him and several other armed men. I asked if this was Section 60.  He replied, "Why?" and I repeated what the previous security man told me.  The extremely muscular man shook his head frustratedly, "He wasn't supposed to say anything to anyone."  He took a long hard look into my eyes, and, after what seemed like an eternity, he pat me down, searched my purse and allowed me to pass.  The barrage of the morning's exciting events left me after entering Section 60.  Utter stillness surrounded me and I felt a sense of aloneness I had not felt prior.  I was alone among thousands of white stones; thousands upon thousands of names and numbers etched with a permanence that only death comprehends.
All at once the immensity of the moment consumed me.  The date of births earlier than my own and  names that once were merely letters on stone now had an identity.  Right or wrong, they did what they were told, believing freedom came at an expense; their lives, as if sending people to their death is freedom.  Question after question consumed me and I felt sick.  In my youth, I had bought into the drama and hype of war much like these men and women had and I now hated myself.  I hated myself for the apathetic way I once looked at war, not realizing the true cost.  I was ripped away from this line of thinking, however, because the President of the United States drove right by me.

The secret tip from the agent earlier in the morning revealed itself as I was sternly told by the secret service to, "Get back!" as he passed.  To see the President in Arlington on 9/11, however surreal and exciting it may have been, was lost on me as I felt the sadness rising up through the graves I was standing on.

Life and its tender fragility revealed itself that day in Section 60.  Section 60 also taught me that trading human lives for freedom is a lie, and is based wholly on greed, power and ego and not for the betterment of our country's interest.  It taught me that violence and/or war is outdated and has no place in this world which we, a now global community, reside.  I learned that sacrificing life for a cause is still sacrificing life, no matter the cause.  If we learned anything from September 11th, and from the loss of life and our freedoms since that time, it's that: "An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind."

A Response to Dear Miley Cyrus...

"I will duct tape your mouth shut so your tongue doesn’t hangout like an overheated hound dog."
"I will smack any male whom you decide to smash against his pelvis – after I first knock you on your butt for forgetting how a lady acts in public."
"This is what happens when no responsible adult has ever said the word “no,” made you change your clothes before leaving the house, or never spanked your butt for deliberate defiance."

Excerpts from a letter from a mother to her daughter with regards to Miley Cyrus: http://roadkillgoldfish.com/2013/08/26/dear-daughter-let-miley-cyrus-be-a-lesson-to-you/#comments

Reading this woman's anger fueled post brought me to tears.  The mother's lack of compassion for her teenage daughter and teenagers in general astounded me.  Had she not been a teenager before?  Had she not experienced the questioning and experimentation that comes with this period?  Had she not made mistakes and learned lessons from her own choices?  These questions led me to find answers. 

According to psychology's human stages of development, "Teens need to develop a sense of self and personal identity. Success and failures, in doing so, builds a strong sense of self, while disallowing a teen to do so leads to role confusion and a weak sense of self."  If the teenager cannot make mistakes or be honest about who they are or want to be, the individual will struggle with their identity.  As a mental health therapist, I've worked with countless women who come to counseling with low opinions of themselves due to overbearing parents.  Low self esteem led these women to make poor personal choices and in relationships which contributed to abusive, controlling situations.

Awareness is the first step to changing the way we parent and bring these young women up in the world.  Miley Cyrus is a 20 year old girl doing what the majority of other kids her age do in finding their way.  She is not the poster child for morality.  What 20 year old kid is?  It's her job to be a kid, make mistakes, and find her own way.  It is important that mothers are educated and understand the influence they have over their children, while not losing sight of what it's like to be an imperfect teenager.  I never have and never will emulate any one as much as I do my own mother.

You know what...

I've been plagued with feelings of fear and losing myself in love, only for it to end in tragedy.  The story replays again and again and at the end leaves me lost and alone.  Writing during these times helps alleviate my mind from the emotional dead ends and rabbit holes it creates.  These mazes, created from the endless bits of information taken from the world around me, is my mind trying to work out problems .  As is the case when I solve mazes, I so too utilize the same skill here.  To begin to solve this puzzle called life, I start from the end and work to the beginning.  Envisioning the end result and working backwards, helps break issues into manageable steps.  As is with this scenario-the maze-asking the right question is far more important than the right answer.

 How do I know whose opinion to listen to?  Is any one person's opinion more valid/correct than another person's?  How much of the news, my family's beliefs, my religious upbringing and schooling play into how I see the world?  I find it is easy to slip and get lost in life because there are no one size fits all answers.  Even though uncertainty exists around every corner, that does not mean feeling scared or anxious or getting on prescription medications is the answer.  Mistakes serve as lessons and lessons are the building blocks of life.  Yet it has become all too common for us turn on ourselves or blame each other when a mistake is made.  We are taught to be separate, to compete and compare ourselves with each other.  This separateness leads to loneliness and feeling misunderstood.  Questioning why we think the way we do is the first step in undoing the past's painful scars.
What if most of what we were taught was due to that person's past pain and their only awareness was trying to keep you from feeling the same pain? 

I'm coming out...

There are certain things I know and others I don't.  I lead with this just in case I get too ahead of myself and start to speak all knowing and prophetic-like.  The fact is, I don't know a lot.  In my ability to admit I don't know a lot, helps me to be an open minded, critical thinker. 

First things first, I don't believe in god.  Gasp or shrug, whichever suits you, then get over it.  My beliefs will not change anyone else's beliefs that do not desire their beliefs to be changed.  Just as the color of one's skin, sexual orientation, height and weight may not be good indicators of one's values, so too should my worth be based on more important factors than my religious beliefs.

I like to write to push the boundaries within myself.  When my internal voice gets shaken or fearful about what others might think, that is, more than likely, where I put my energy.

The point is, I'm more comfortable in my skin than I've ever been.  Driving around the country over the past year has been a life changing experience which has left me wanting to continue pushing myself, along with using what I've learned to create in artistic ways. 

A blurb from my recent writing:

"She liked her day.  She's always conflicted in her head because she felt pushed and pulled between what other people thought of her.  Yet, at the end of the day, exhausted from berry picking, window washing, and other household chores, along with the minor buzz from a shot of vodka she'd taken moments earlier, she cared less about what "they" thought.  "They" being the thoughts in her head that turned into the voices of people she had known, whose opinion mattered, and to which she gave far too much credit.  Even though she knew the voices were far too hard on her, she enjoyed the constant internal battle.  She, being quite rebellious in everything she did, would argue and debate, or most anything else, with her internal dialog. For a time she worked on being in the "now", which meant adhering to Eckhart Tolle's monotone, spiritual ramblings.  However, she "now" lived her life as close to simple, connected and open-ended as possible.  Even still, guilt, a dark, unapologetic beast, the emotion that backed "they", was her emotional drug of choice."

Think for yourself...

We're back in Washington, staying at my parent's house and enjoying regular scheduled showers.  While on the road, rest area sinks became my regular go-to for hygienic needs, so staying here is quite a treat.
Today's post comes from a growing awareness, turned to concern, about the lack of curiosity and questioning I see in the world.  A ridiculous example comes from Facebook and an article a woman posted about insects that get into women's bras and plant larvae into their breasts. She, along with several others commented,  "I hope this doesn't happen to me", "OH MY GOSH, this is HORRIBLE", you get the point.  My thoughts quickly turned to, "are people really that stupid"?  For one, logic alone should nullify any truth one finds in these urban legends.  And two, if logic isn't one's strong suit, a quick search on the internet can expose the truth in this falsity.  On a side note if, in fact, you like grotesque stuff, Google "bra bugs" to see what I'm talking about.  My point is, we are lacking the skills to critically think.

Critical thinking evaluates assumptions, and instead of answering questions, it questions answers.  Critical thinking says, I know my parents, teachers, and friends think this way, but what do I think and why do I think this way?
Prior to my road trip I invested leisure time into self help books and inspirational cd's.  The underlying message I was telling myself is that someone else has the answers, and if I keep listening they will solve my problems.  False.  I now understand I am the only person who can solve my problems.  Also, most of the "problems" the self help books focus on, are not problems at all.

Brooklyn, my niece

Each of us go through life stages, come to understandings and process life circumstances on an individual basis.  Each person is unique and for anyone to say "I know what's best for you", or "I have found the truth", is something to be curious and weary of.  If you're going through the pain of losing someone, a major transition in life, or other crisis find a friend, group, or counselor for support and healing.  On the other hand, understand that YOU are not the problem.  You do not need to be fixed.  You do not need to read the latest book or get the latest product to be alright.  Realizing this is the most scary yet liberating truth I've found.  Scary because continual searching becomes a part of your identity.  It becomes who you are.  And if you're not searching then who are you?  Liberating because you are the expert, the one to turn to, and inside you is where you'll find the answers. 

Hear Me Meow...

Two of the most common questions asked during my solo travels are "aren't you scared?" and "why are you doing this?"  Should I be?  And if so, why am I not?  After reading an interesting article about women on the road, http://theamericanreader.com/green-screen-the-lack-of-female-road-narratives-and-why-it-matters/, along with my personal experience, there appears to be an inability of society to understand women adventurers as well as an ability to identify with them.
I feel it necessary to say I am not a feminist.  I do not want to burn bras nor have an ax to grind.  I merely like to share my experience as it relates to the greater whole, when and where I see fit.  As a woman with the desire to explore, adventure and connect with people from different places and spaces, I am here to say there is nothing wrong with me.  I'm not running from anything, nor do I need protection to do so.

I experienced a family reunion while in Minnesota where most all the women my age had five or more children and were pregnant (no joke). Their ability to understand how I could forgo my womanly duties was beyond them.  Question after question ensued as they tried to wrap their heads around my lifestyle.  
The conversation was interesting, yet somewhat frustrating because they hadn't been given the opportunity, as I had,  to make a choice whether that was the life they wanted, and it was instead an obligation.  Another experience while visiting Indiana, with a young woman in her early 20's, went similarly.  As we talked over orange juice at the local Denny's she explained that she was going to community college solely for her "Mrs." degree.  Not having heard of a "Mrs." degree I asked her to explain.  She said it was to pass the time until she got proposed to by her boyfriend, at which time she would become a housewife and mother.  When I asked if that was what she wanted, she began to cry and told me that she wasn't very smart and couldn't be anything else.  Confused, I asked who told her that and she said her father and brothers.  


From experience, the decision to follow curiosity and dreams is not an easy path.  Around every corner there lurks outdated views from men AND women about how women "ought" to act.
 I'm not the stereotypical woman, yet I'm a woman nonetheless.  A woman who has challenged what path to take, not out of spite, not out of anger, but just because it's how I've chosen to live my life.  My hope is that instead of viewing women that choose alternative lifestyles as broken, hopelessly lost, or property for men (more on that in my upcoming book), we can accept and learn from the differences these women provide.