don't do it.

i have some great friends in my life (so blessed!), one particularly wise and awesome friend has a motto that has stuck with me, and i have adopted as my own. "i don't do fucked up" is something she says when toxic people try and gain access to her life. it seems so simple, and yet it can be difficult to discern and enforce. after all, we don't live in a black and white world where lines are clearly drawn and boundaries strictly observed. her point, and i think it's brilliant, is that if you have drama, and you want to project your fucked up shit onto me than you can take your show on the road because i'm not interested.

just think of it, imagine those people in your life that bring the drama with them everywhere they go; and now imagine you said to them, no thanks. not that you would necessarily toss them out of your life, but that you would let them know they needed to check their shit at the door because it's not allowed in big momma's house. easy to say, difficult to follow through on. because of this difficulty we tend to allow these emotional predators into our lives and homes just so we can avoid that awkward, sometimes painful conversation where we shine a light on their behavior.

i will admit that i am widely known as a bitch for saying things out loud that people would rather i didn't, i've been this way since i was so young i don't remember anything else. for me it was a survival mechanism that prevented me from drowning in a sea of passive aggressive brutality. naming what i see in front of me has helped me not completely lose my mind and become one of those people we all see in our downtowns eating their own hair and talking to themselves; so i am thankful for this personality trait. however, every positive has a negative. the negative side of this tell-it-like-it-is coin is that it pisses people off (especially people who are fucked up), and when it pisses these people off they will often come at you with an emotional sucker punch at the first sign of vulnerability. it is these people, that are emotional predators.

i'm guessing all of you have someone in mind right now as you read this, someone in your life that you can conjure without much effort who never shows up at your door without a hefty amount of baggage. maybe it's someone in your family, maybe it's someone you have called friend, regardless it is very difficult to tell these people, as toxic as they may be, to get out. to simply say, "i don't do fucked up". it's a direct, blunt, and somewhat vague sentiment. anyone who has been in your life for a while will want you to elaborate on what you think is "fucked up", and when you do you are walking a slippery tightrope. you know how their behavior makes you feel, and you know how it effects your life, but to define it can be difficult. if you can define it, than you risk feeling isolated in your truth. no one likes to feel lonely, even if it's due to honesty.

so there is your choice, say it out loud and sink into that feeling of being "an island of reality in an ocean of diarrhea" (jason mraz song), or hold it in and allow the fucked up diarrhea to wash over you and find refuge in your home and life. because pretending it's not there has never made it go away.

sibs

the relationship of siblings is an odd thing. either you are close to each other and would jump in front of a moving train for your beloved bro or sis, or you have a strained relationship and you would jump in front a train...um, er... wait... that's the same result. why is that? is it some intrinsic connection born from genetics, or spending our formative years under the same roof? yeah, i think it is. i can give diverse examples from my own life to illustrate my point, and you know i love to tell stories to illustrate my point.

example one: my sister. we are very close, some say there are twin-like similarities between us, and yet we are nine years apart and were raised in completely different families. (abridged version: the 'rents got knocked up, gave her up for adoption, later got married and had 2 more kids, which unfortunately they kept.) we met when i was 16 and she was 24, we look alike, we talk alike, sometimes we even walk alike, or something like that. our lives mirror each other in inexplicably odd ways; and yes, i would jump in front of a train for her.

example two: my bro. we are not so close. in fact currently he is not talking to me on account of my moving away from our home state. he feels betrayed and abandoned. he is 1.5 years older than me, but i am truly his big sister. i have always protected him and provided him with necessary emotional shields needed to survive in a family of origin like ours. we fight on a regular basis. when we were little it was physical fighting, now it is verbal. we can go 'round and 'round never seeing eye to eye; and yes i would jump in front of a train for him. this one is more perplexing to me, i mean he is an ass. truly, if you met him you'd know what i mean. he is a big beer guzzling-shouting at the sports team on the tv-booming voice-not thinking before he speaks (or acts)-swedish ASS. so why would i jump? not sure, but i would. even if i don't talk to him for a long time, and he's mad at me forever, i still would.

example 3: my kids. sisters to the core, the kind they portray on tv, the kind that love each other, get each other, and are best friends; and they are adopted from entirely separate biological families. we in this house cling to each other, each understanding the frailty of the family unit in a profound way. i have no doubt that either of them would jump for the other, of course they would. z. would most likely be lecturing g. as she did it, but no one messes with her little sister... except for her on a daily basis.

in accordance

i don't know when exactly i dedicated a space in my brain to the idea of living in accordance with ones values, and more specifically all of the ways that i (and those i observe around me) violate that relationship, but it's been at least a year or so. not that the idea that one should try and live this way only occurred to me one year ago, but it has it's own dedicated space now. it's no longer a fleeting and vague philosophy, it has become a crucial part of how i conduct myself. it was one of the major factors in our cross country move last summer, and it is center stage for my recent (albeit tentative) plan to transition to not just vegetarianism, but to becoming vegan. STOP. wait. I'M NOT THERE YET. there is still cheese in my fridge, and milk on my breath. as of today however i am committing to no longer buying meat products for anyone in my house (yes, there have been family discussions and consensus), and to not buying any new dairy products for myself. for awhile now my kids and i have been discussing the animal rights side of becoming veggie in some form or another. we are animal freaks to the core in our house, and when we talk very honestly about the relationship between being animal lovers AND meat eaters, there is no real honest justification. we are not living in accordance with one of our most treasured family values. why? for an occasional chicken finger or creamy piece of cheese? yes. that's why. we have said that the rights and lives of all living creatures are important to us, but our actions have drawn a big red line through that statement because ultimately we have prioritized our habits over our beliefs. it's shameful, and so very common. in fact i think the commonness of this separatist way of living is what really helps us justify it.

another piece of this puzzle is our families individual and collective health. as the leader of our household i pride myself on providing genuinely good wholesome foods to my family. we have been organic before organic was cool, and we avoid any and all high fructose corn syrup, hydrogenated oils, and crazy-ass food dyes. my kids have always lived this way, they have been able to identify certain "bad" ingredients on a food label since before they could read. additionally i am a really good cook, i have never been someone who will eat something JUST because it's good for me, it has to taste good too. i have learned that it is possible to make almost anything taste pretty damn good if you know the methods and trust your culinary instincts. personally i haven't eaten red meat since i was 19, and i was a vegetarian for several years during my 20's. even now i eat far less meat than most meat eaters i know. it rarely finds it's way into my shopping cart; and still i haven't made the commitment to fully transition to a plant based diet. little g and i both have acid reflux regularly, in addition to other GI issues. z. has sensory integration dysfunction, autism, and (despite it being normalized by doctors) very early puberty in my opinion. all of these daily health concerns can be traced back either wholly, or partially, to our diet rich in dairy and animal products. at the least our diet can exacerbate these issues, at the most i fear it is actually causing some of them. it's interesting because when z has food dyes she inevitably has a meltdown within 2 hours. she loves her sugar, and if it's blue or pink or bright red, all the better in her eyes! but i can count with 100% accuracy on her mood for the remainder of the day. i find that fascinating. what specifically is happening inside her body to cause that reaction? the same is true for me with my allergies when i have a lot of cheese.

now i must confess that i am someone who gets on a kick with this, that, or the next thing and tends to go whole hog (pun intended). which is why i have been gently reading, pondering, and exploring this whole plant based diet thing for months now. i have talked myself in and out of it several times, but it keeps popping up around (and within) me with a resonance that is difficult to ignore. this all or nothing mentality is also something i have learned to be wary of as it hasn't served me well in the past, so i am slowly transitioning. i'm replacing cow milk with almond milk (shockingly good, and this from someone who does not like soy milk at all!), butter is giving way to earth balance, sour cream to tofutti, and cheese... well, cheese is just going to have to fade into my past like a lover that did me wrong and no longer works in my life; because i think the vegan "cheeses" that are on the market are disgusting and insulting to a cheese lover like me. :-) becoming ok with letting go of my creamy love is a process, but i am confident that i can be happy even without it in my life.

this life is a short one and it is my intention to live as honorably as possible. there are so many things happening in this world that i have little or no control over, but which distress and worry me a great deal. war, famine, abuse, neglect, corruption, murder, natural disaster, and devastating environmental issues just to name a few of the things that make me want to crawl in a hole and sleep the time away. this is another reason that a plant based diet will help me to live in accordance with my values. it is, i think, one of the most impactful decisions i can make to start becoming more a part of the solutions versus the problems i see in the world around me, and to move even closer to aligning my values with my daily way of life.

ambiguity

hell is not an ambiguous place ( i wouldn't imagine it is at least), and yet ambiguity is a pretty powerful form of hell here on earth. we call it all sorts of things like, "being in limbo", or "transition", but for me an ambiguous place in life is not somewhere i can comfortably dwell for long. it activates all of my "stuff". the parts of me that i have worked so hard to heal and move forward from all come rushing into play when my life stumbles upon a state of flux, limbo, transition, blah blah blah. however one dresses it up, it sucks... big time.

i think the pieces to ambiguity that really chap my ass are the unknowings. those pieces of the transition time that are hazy and unclear make my stomach turn, and my skin crawl. i could vomit just thinking about it. i like to know. everything. all the time. is that too much to ask? what's that you say, it IS too much to ask? well, fuck you. i still want it.

did i mention that ambiguity makes me really angry? makes me want to beat someone with the recklessness of my tumultuous adolescence. not a good feeling for this grown-up pacifist who prides herself of remaining calm in crisis, and pragmatically thinking through my actions. all i have to say about that is that there are people out there who should thank their mother-humping stars that i am a fully realized grown-up who holds herself accountable for her actions; because quite frankly, i could shank a bitch right right now. dear lord, that is inappropriate, and counter to my feminist beliefs on so many levels. this is what ambiguity does to me, it turns me against my own core values and makes me feel rage-filled in a way that i am really not comfortable with. luckily, i do not act on these feelings. i talk about them, write about them, and work through them by seeking to understand the shit storm around me. good times.

it's a pleasant way to spend the day, picking up a piece of fallen shit and examining it until i can know in my gut what it really is, and how it came to be in my life... and then moving on to the next hunk of excrement. once a piece is properly identified and classified it shape-shifts into a clear glass mound with smooth edges; the weight of which feels good in the hand, and can be placed proudly on the display shelves of healing person's psyche. it's like when lightening strikes in the sand and makes a free from glass sculpture, it came from a traumatic event, but now it is a stunning reminder of the beauty that comes after the storm has passed. if you don't look for the beauty however, you will never find it. it is buried underneath the sand and shit, only to be discovered and appreciated by those who are up for, and dedicated to, the excavation.

persevere (rate)/ (ration)/ (ating)

persevere: to persist in a state, enterprise, or undertaking in spite of counterinfluences, opposition, or discouragement

perseveration: continuation of something (as repetition of a word) usually to an exceptional degree or beyond a desired point.

(merriam-websters dictionary)

"persevere" is an interesting word. in it's various forms it's meaning can change drastically. when one is struggling we are encouraged to persevere through the tough times. change that a little to perseverate and the connotation changes as well. to be honest, i didn't hear or use the variation "perseverate" much before my oldest daughter came along, now it's not only something i hear OFTEN, but i'm encouraged to persevere in discouraging her perseverating by medical and school personnel. it feels like the world says, "shut down. get going! knock it off. keep it up! time-out. get in the game! sit still. chin up!" it's exhausting, make up your fucking mind already.

as my blog pretty clearly tells you, i have a had bit of an ass-kicking year. not ass-kicking as in "that was awesome, it kicked ass!", but rather "why is that woman lying in the fetal position? oh, she got her ass kicked." (it's ok to laugh, it's funny. god knows i laugh at my ridiculous life often enough). these series of events that continue to unfold around and within me lead me to wonder whether i am, or should be, persevering or perseverating?

prime example, i am going focusing my energies in the moments, minutes, or hours between crisis management this week on tapping the maple trees in my yard to make my own syrup. i have never done this before, and so it requires learning and concentration on my part, both of which are good distractions and avenues towards persevering. this activity will serve many positive purposes in my life right now, it will get me outside, teach me something new, and result in providing my family with a connection to this earth as well a healthy product we use often. i have spent hours reading, researching, and calculating the benefits of making my own syrup; it will reduce my carbon footprint, be cheaper than buying the stuff for a bajillion dollars for a qt, and it will be fun and educational for my kids. i was thinking about it as i fell asleep last night, and i began compiling my list of needed supplies first thing this morning. am i being prepared and tackling this responsibly? sure i am *she says tentatively with doubt in her voice*. however, if my 10 year old autistic daughter (z) were focused this much on one thing, whether at school or at home, she would be considered to be perseverating and redirection would be the first order of business. we tell ourselves that this redirection would be necessary to keep her mood more stable an prevent her severe anxiety from settling in for a good long while. but here's where it gets sticky, i am overwhelmed and anxious about this syruping business too. i am doing it for all of the reasons i mentioned above, but i am also doing it to distract myself from the rest of my life and give me something tangible to focus on. if everything goes according to plan and i make some yummy sweet syrup, then yay for me- i accomplishment something positive. if the learning curve for this activity has some unexpected detours and the syrup gets all jacked up and inedible i fear a total nervous breakdown in my near future. i'm putting a lot of eggs in this basket of maple sap, if you know what i'm sayin'. i'm relying on this activity to give me a sense of purpose when my life feels overwhelming, how is that different than z wanting to know every little thing her class will do, at what time, and in what way on a monday morning so that her week feels less overwhelming? it's not different. at all.

in my perseverance i am perseverating so that i may accomplish this goal and will then be inspired to persevere. when i break it all down like this i think a.) this is riDONKulous, and b.)i'd rather take a nap than do any of it. i would rather succumb to the overwhelm than risk the possibility of failure and meltdown. maybe that's the key difference between my perseverance and z's perseverating, for me persevering is something difficult that requires i maintain great focus to do. for z, it's like breathing. she doesn't require a self-given pep talk to latch onto an idea and run with it, but i do. suddenly it feels like i am the one who needs redirection, maybe i should ask z what to do?

ya know what's really funny? a grown-up who is really angry and starts swatting and kicking at the air around them. i love that shit. i totally get it, being so angry you must move it to a physical level, but it's really really funny when you see someone else act it out. especially if you get extra lucky and said grown-up in the middle of a cartoonish rage fit smacks an appendage on something whilst swatting frantically at the dead air. my favorite is if they smack their elbow or their shin, because those spots seem the most tender and then they hop around full of exaggerated pain that is actually a mere carryover from their original anger. if i could hide in the bushes and watch one of these episodes on a regular basis i would be happy as a clam. i would much prefer this sort of humorous voyeurism to most crap on tv these days. not sure why it tickles me so much, maybe because it is human beings being raw and letting go of the control over themselves. we truly are collectively a ridiculous species. we are so much like the characters in the funny papers, and truth really is stranger than fiction.

rabbit hole

let me preface this by saying that i am NOT a fan of "alice in wonderland". it scares the bejesus out me. a little blond girl falls down a rabbit's hole (hello, rife with subtext) and ends up in a psychedelic land filled with unsavory characters such as: passive aggressive cats, talking plants, evil queens, etc... hits a little too close to home if you know what i'm sayin'. my social worker brain goes immediately to the place of wondering why no one in this child's real life has noticed that she is completely dissociated. the whole thing is very alarming.

that said, i can most certainly relate to walking along and feeling like your life was pulled out from under you and all of the sudden you are falling into a parallel universe that you never thought would be your reality. we like to philosophize that this is life leading us down a new path, or taking us on an unexpected journey, or blah blah blah. although this annoying shit may true, it feels more like you have just fallen into some unforeseen gaping hole in the earths floor; and goddammit, it sucks. despite the fact that it sucks, it seems an inevitable part of life. once you start falling there is no way to stop yourself, often i try to grab the earth as i plummet. it seems all this accomplishes is to widen the hole by crumbly even more of the fragile soil and roots in my desperate hands. alas we land, somewhere. god only knows where, or when, as the fall can last anywhere from a moment to a lifetime. once we hit the bottom, and our bones rattle on impact, we can begin to shake our heads and take in our surroundings. trying to get our bearings as to where we are, and how we got there. being someone who likes to know the whys and hows for every turn in life i tend to sit at the bottom of this proverbial rabbit's hole for longer than is maybe productive and fixate on why the hole was there in the first place, and why i fell into it. once i feel i have an understanding of the hows and whys i can really look around at what's in front of me. my next step is usually to take a long nap. seriously, falling down that unexpected hole is exhausting, figuring out why i fell in the first place, even more so.

so, now i'm napping, and in a cruel twist my vivid dreams are all centered around the fall, reasons for it, and what will come next. my dreams tend to play out worst case scenarios, which as you might suspect, doesn't provide the restful sleep and rejuvenation i need for the journey ahead. now i'm tired, weary, and fearful that my dreams may be a foretelling of what's to come; but what choice do i have except to get up and start moving in one direction or another. i have found that this nightmarish psychedelic land at the bottom of this asshole rabbit's careless crevasse has poor signage and rarely (if ever) a visitors center to help me get started. so, i'm walking, grumbling and swearing under my breath, in some random direction looking for any clue that could lead me to the surface again. are cartoonish foliage and lispy talking animals who make little or no sense helpful to me at this point? no, no they are not. i'm looking for a straight shooter who has my best interests at heart. in other words i'm looking for my therapist. it would be a lot easier to find her when i need her if i could get some cell reception down in this godforsaken hell (rabbit) hole. goddamn t-mobile.

no thank you pasty faced royal court, i do not want to play your silly games full of covert meaning, i would however like it very much if ANYONE could point me towards the sun, my vitamin D is dwindling fast down here; and by the by where can a girl get a snack or some chai? this is when i know i'm getting my sense of humor back, always a good sign. i like to use dry humor and sarcasm with the abusive characters down there, i don't think they get it and i know it pisses them off. which makes me a happy. i suppose one could argue that if i would play their games and learn the lessons the way they want me too maybe i would get back home more quickly. but you see, it's never been my personal belief that getting back is the goal. getting to a new place yes, getting back to where i fell in the hole in the first place? not so much. i find it's best to accept the truth that once you have fallen down this maddening hole, whether it's because of your actions or those of someone else in your life, change is the only way to avoid the same hole again in the future. it's best to abandon the thoughts of "home" you once cherished and open your mind and heart to the fact that home, as you knew it, no longer sparkles and shines the way it once did, and the patina that has taken the place of the shimmer cannot be scrubbed off with any amount of effort or tarnex.

so i trudge on settling into this new (and hopefully temporary)reality while trying to avoid the spazzy characters that seek to distract me from walking through. i pass the flamboyant and bossy talking flowers without acknowledgement, and i swat the annoying white haired hummingbird away from me with an extra flick of my wrist to ensure she is knocked on her arse and will not be circling my head with her ear piercing drivel again.

(ooh, look! there's a starbucks *of course* things are looking up!) grande-nonfat-no-foam-chai in hand my step quickens a little, and i start to notice that things are beginning to look less distorted and cartoonish. i am beginning to feel my feet underneath me in a real way, solid on this spongy terrain. the cloudiness in my head begins to clear and my thoughts become hopeful and pragmatic, even small smatterings of excitement creep in knowing that once i find out where home is now it will be better than it was before. that this hellish time will all have been worth it because when i resurface and take that deep breath in the wide open air of my new home i will smile, and it will be real.