touching a nerve

It would seem that the post I put up a few days ago touched a few nerves.Those words certainly fired mine.

Thank you everyone! I am beyond overwhelmed and encouraged by all of your words.

And then last night happened.

Jenny, The Bloggess, as she often does, found the words I was feeling last night and today:

I’m sad about last night for a lot of reasons.  And if you are human, and allow yourself to be so, then you probably are too.  Maybe it’s the verdict that upset you, or the destruction afterwards, or the long and difficult path that has led us here and has shown us we have so much further to go before we get to the place where we want to be…a place where kindness and compassion and vulnerability are the things which can be lauded and seen and encouraged and felt.  Or maybe, like me, you’re upset about all of those things and you feel too defeated to want to care anymore.

But if you’re like me, you can’t switch those emotions off.  It’s so much easier to turn those feelings of vulnerability and hurt into a shield of rage.  Rage feels powerful and strong.  It feels good.  And rage is important.  But not at the cost of compassion.  If, like me, today you woke up weary and wanting to become numb, or turn away, or lash out angrily at everyone involved then I feel you.  But I encourage you to keep compassion at the forefront.  Remember humanity.  Remember that your words and actions make a difference.  Remember that the majority of us are so much better than the worse things we see in the news, and that so many of us are leading a quiet revolution to be kind, and compassionate, and to listen to the hurt, and amplify the things that will make a positive difference in our world.  It’s a quiet revolution that will never be covered on CNN.  It’s a movement of people who redirect anger to kindness.  Who listen even when it’s painful.  Who take the hurt of others on ourselves and feel it so that we can become better people.  Who wade into horrible online threads and inject compassion and reason because we know that it can become contagious if done the right way.  Who hope that reason and empathy will somehow lead to a place which is safer for our children and grandchildren.

Yes.

I like to think that Jenny’s words followed by her call to action is what led to the staggering spike in donations to the Ferguson, Missouri library because perhaps what the citizens of Ferguson need most right now is a quiet sanctuary along with our compassion…especially if we just don’t understand.

I know that I don’t. even after spending part of my afternoon reading through just some of the Grand Jury’s transcripts.

Oof!

No I don’t understand. I imagine that I never will. But I can be outraged. I can also have compassion for people who are obviously hurting right now in a way that I can never possibly imagine or understand; and so while watching my own circus clowns as they enjoyed our new (to us) “dining room table” I ignored the hate and the rage expressed from all sides all over social media and I prayed, I gave what I could and I gave thanks that I could do these things.

Justice will not be served until those who are unaffected are as outraged as those who are ~ Benjamin Franklin

ownership

Working this week on me being the sole proprietor of my thoughts, my memories, my words, my opinions with my therapist has been hard. A lifetime of being told these are not mine, not real, not true, not worthy of being shared takes it toll. It’s one of the reason why I stopped writing decades ago, much to the disappointment of a high school writing teacher who just recently reconnected via Facebook upon discovering that after high school I stopped writing altogether. I did stop, until I started blogging more than ten years ago. First in secret. Then with a faceless audience who seemed to like the words and thoughts I put out there. Then it grew and grew as did the audience some who know me very well and some who like to imagine that they know me even better than I know me and now, well sometimes it’s hard again. Most times I ignore it all as I remind myself that I am a grown-assed, accomplished woman with real thoughts and opinions and memories that have every right to be put out there with the words that I want to use. But sometimes that damn codependent-y, Golden Retriever in me comes out and, well, it’s hard.

Which is why this week we worked more on the truth that I am the owner of me. And as I reinforced this within myself I received this:

I’ve promised the one who shared this that Brad Pitt will be cast to portray him in the movie version.

plus: sharks

Quote

There has been better days and good days and okay days and then there is a bad day…and I see this on my Facebook timeline.

OMG, yes! Sharks!!

Exogenous or endogenous…”Who the hell really cares?!”…that’s what my doctor said to me.

I like her.

I like her a lot.

I also respect the years and years of study she has spent always learning and trying to better understand the physiology of the brain. We are working hard together and, yes, there have been better days. There have been days with more positive energy and a lot less self flagellation.

Then comes a bad day and…

At least I’m working, working very hard, and I continue to go on.

The struggle.

The struggle is real.

But the work is good even if it is hard and sometimes even brutal.

Who knew that this non-swimmer could manage to swim a little, tread water and ride the surf a little?

But I am.

I just got to watch out for those damn sharks.

Thank you Adam for the perfect words on what wasn’t a very good day. It’s good to know I’m not riding those waves alone.

what he said

Found this today and all I can say is yes…hell yes.

I no longer have patience for certain things, not because I’ve become arrogant, but simply because I reached a point in my life where I do not want to waste more time with what displeases me or hurts me. I have no patience for cynicism, excessive criticism and demands of any nature. I lost the will to please those who do not like me, to love those who do not love me and to smile at those who do not want to smile at me. I no longer spend a single minute on those who lie or want to manipulate. I decided not to coexist anymore with pretense, hypocrisy, dishonesty and cheap praise. I do not tolerate selective erudition nor academic arrogance. I do not adjust either to popular gossiping. I hate conflict and comparisons. I believe in a world of opposites and that’s why I avoid people with rigid and inflexible personalities. In friendship I dislike the lack of loyalty and betrayal. I do not get along with those who do not know how to give a compliment or a word of encouragement. Exaggerations bore me and I have difficulty accepting those who do not like animals. And on top of everything I have no patience for anyone who does not deserve my patience. ~Jose Micard Teixeira

And now the hard part, to take those words and make them mine because…yeah.


From Ripon’s Annual Color The Skies, 2014

noise cancelling shoes

They look like an ordinary pair of Asics running shoes but they aren’t. They are literally noise cancelling shoes…very well worn noise cancelling shoes because self care for me is the ability to walk…to run…miles and miles.

Remember all those half marathons and other races that I ran where I collected all those amazing medals after crossing the finish line?

What?

No?

You don’t?

Well, I do as I see all those once shiny, blingy medals every day collecting dust hanging out of sight in my walk-in closet. I hear them too as well as the ten of them that live in my closet clank against one another reminding me of what I did. What I can do. What has been literally my therapy for such a very long, long time.

I don’t run in half marathons anymore for many reasons. The biggest reason is I just can not afford to anymore. But I do still run. All the time. Any chance that I can.

Self mental health care.

But truth be told, the endorphins release is no longer enough. It hasn’t been for months and months. But I still run because I need to because it is something that I can do. Something that I can do now and do pretty well.

Years and years ago, after the birth of one of the many babies I birthed, I was being treated for post partum depression. My doctor wanted to add medication to my treatment but I refused for quite some time because I was breastfeeding my baby and I had concerns about the effect the meds might have on my nursing infant. Still the doctor pushed back. Finally I confessed that at that moment and every day I knew for sure the one thing that I could do right was feed my baby. Everything else I did, or didn’t do, was open for scrutiny and critique but feeding my baby was the one thing that only I could do and I did it very well. And so my doctor agreed.

Now I run. I have ran for over 4 years and have run a lot. Running for the dopamine release and running to cancel out the noise, the noise always in my head that mocks, jeers, derides, scoffs at anything I think or feel or do.

Today the noise was especially loud so I laced up these shoes and walked and ran and walked for what ended up being nearly ten miles because step by step, mile after mile, the noise was not there. Cancelled. I needed that noise to be out of my head today. Desperately so. So I ran longer than I had planned for.

Tomorrow I imagine that my body will hate me.

Oh well.

As for me I will be grateful for my noise cancelling shoes.

Oh, and for the kitty photo bomb too.