Sometimes, you just want to be in the familiar surroundings of home. That’s exactly where I found myself yesterday morning – longing for home. So, after a physically & emotionally draining week away, I determinedly checked out of the hotel, stopped for some gas (despite my general policy of *not* buying gas in that area of the state – it’s always more than $0.25 more expensive than anywhere else on my commute), and hurled myself head first into a journey which I never expected.
As soon as I merged onto the interstate, I knew I was in for a long drive. It wasn’t pure ice – but, it definitely wasn’t good, either. I thought about stopping right then. To what end? There was no way to turn around. The next exit was miles away. I couldn’t back down the onramp (that was a definite option in my mind, but, there were vehicles behind me). I felt like I was probably just being too cautious, and started to speed up to pace the other vehicles on the road – at a whooping 25 MPH. I focused on relaxing my neck and shoulders – they were uncomfortably tense. Quick calculations told me that I would be home in about 3 hours – if I was able to average at least 25 MPH the entire way. I hoped the roads would improve rapidly, but, knew that I could handle 3 hours.
Half an hour into the journey, I realized that I had cut off the circulation to my fingers due to my death grip on the steering wheel. Traffic had slowed from our uber-fast clip of 25 to between 10 and 15 MPH – and I was desperately hoping that I would be able to keep my car on the sheet of ice that had replaced the packed snow from before. Not that I *wanted* to be on the sheet of ice – but, it beat that alternative of joining the other cars in the graveyard formerly called “ditches”. I knew this road well – I knew where it was completely exposed to cross winds…and I knew that exitting was ill advised even when it was possible. Actually, there is only one exit during the first push of the journey – and it just takes you to a long highway that wouldn’t help if you were in trouble.
I Thought it was Global Warming…these ice plates aren’t melting!
As the conditions persisted – stable if not leaning towards worse – I knew that I either needed to find somewhere to get off the ice OR my car would find somewhere off the ice without my assistance. The graveyard loomed. There weren’t many places where my car would have found “off the ice” conditions where it wouldn’t have also found some like-kinds that had the same idea. Basically, anywhere we would have found ourselves off the road, we would have had a close encounter with another vehicle sans driver.
I knew I was eventually coming up on the first place I could get off the ice safely, and decided to make the move. I eased the car over, hoping that she didn’t slide too far finding the ditch before the exit. The entrance into the rest area guaranteed that the car would slow down – either by driver or as the drivetrain fell out. “Bumpy” doesn’t quite capture that condition. It was more like deep potholes on mud roads in reverse. And, instead of mud, they were constructed by pristine packed snow that made these great jagged miniature ice mountains. Once I navigated that in my very low profile car, I found the carcass of a semi to my left – with what looked like a bomb-blast opening in the rear passenger side of the trailer. Curious. As a distraction, I let my mind wander into the realm of “what could have caused that?” The mess that was the rest area pulled me out of that. I found what looked like it would be the clearest spot to park. As I pulled in, I noticed that the loose snow on the exit side of the rest area had been formed into deep ruts – and knew I was stuck there. My car was far too low to clear the huge piles of snow around the tire tracks. I accepted that in my mind without much hesitation. I did not have any intention of driving on the ice plates again, so, merging back on to the interstate was really the least of my concern.
I called a family member to let him know that I was stopping. I didn’t know what I was going to do later, but, right then, I just needed to stop. I watched the traffic crawl. More semis pulled into the rest area….and cars…and SUV’s. The rest area was as full as it could be – particularly with only half of it being plowed. The workers pounded the ice on the sidewalk with picks, attempting to make walking safe. Then, the brought out the snow blower for other areas. I’m sure this wasn’t a concern (they told me when I pulled in that a plow was going to be there soon to plow out the rest of the parking and entrance/exit), but, the snow blower made the parking area worse – thick with heavy but loose snow. Ice is bad to drive on….loose snow is easy to get stuck in.
Wanted: A Knight in Shining Armor
After an hour, I realized I still didn’t have any idea of what I was going to do. I was painfully close to civilization – about 1.8 miles down the road there was another exit that had hotels, shopping, food. Why didn’t I hang in there for a few more miles? I beat myself up mentally for a few minutes – until I recognized how counter productive it was. Who do you call when you need help? That’s tricky. It had only been about a week before that I had told someone I trusted he would rescue me if I was ever in need. On the other hand, I had cried out for comfort just a few days before to that same person…with no response. I may be really good at reading people….but, I can be wrong and doubt had crept into my mind the night before, and apparently took up residence.
I realized I couldn’t live with the consequences of calling anyone I cared about to come help me. I’ve driven on Iowa winter roads for many years – I’ve never experienced roads like that. And, I couldn’t bring myself to ask anyone to do it for me. That realization, along with the realization from the previous night about that person combined with my feeling of utter helplessness and my body’s weakness from the week’s events hit me all at once. I cried. I generally don’t do that. I don’t find that crying is ever all that useful – it makes your eyes puffy, your head hurt, and never actually *solves* anything. It’s self-indulgent. And, if I’m going to be self-indulgent, there are far more pleasurable ways to do that. I felt the tears freeze as they rolled down my face. My eyelashes were freezing together from the moisture, but, the tears kept flowing.
The Great Escape (plan)
After what felt like hours but was actually only a few mintues, I pulled myself back together and started working on a plan to “escape” the rest area without driving on the interstate. A helicopter would have seriously come in hand right then. <sigh> I figured I could probably run the 1.8 miles in around 15 minutes…so, I may be able to get down the interstate to the next exit without frost bite – or at least without frost bite so bad I would lose anything important. I wasn’t really *dressed* for running with my full length wool coat and boots (wit da fur), but, I figured that would only slow me down a little bit. On the other hand, running down the side of an icy interstate sounded like a not-so-sound idea. If a car (or semi) slid off the road into me, I would be so deep in the snow, it would be next spring before they found my perfectly ice-preserved body. Not to mention that I would definitely not be running that far with any supplies. If I were to get part way there and have any physical issues, I would definitely die from exposure. That’s not quite how I envisioned my death.
Saving the hopeless & Ring Tones
I could call the highway patrol to come save the “stupidly hopeless”. I honestly don’t know how they deal with all the dumb people who shouldn’t be driving on bad roads. I thank them for it because I seriously wouldn’t have the patience. It was an idea, but, only as a last resort. I could call a tow truck – but, there was a towing ban, so, I doubted that would do any good. So, I sat and watched traffic some more. And thought about the past week. I thought about ring tones and wondered how I could have missed something as important as I must have missed with that person. I also realized that I was so glad that people didn’t call my phone while I was with them. Some of my ring tones are really for me – and not for the person to whom I’ve attached that ring tone to. I giggled a little bit as I thought about how I would explain a person’s ring tone to them if they were to find it out. I don’t know how to explain it to anyone…I choose ring tones for people that are illustrative of that person’s nature. Some would be harder to explain that others. Some are fun (Mike’s is the intro of “Yeah” by Usher – which I always thought about when he would tell me he was on his way to “P-Town, peace up” *giggle)…but, some are quite heavy/serious, and if a person didn’t understand what the reasoning was, they may find their own ring tone sort of…..troubling.
There’s nothing quite like forced down time to make one contemplate many different topics. Not that ANY of that was doing any good insofar as hatching a plan to get me out of the rest area…but, it was time that I obviously needed (or why would the universe so kindly have forced me into having that time??). I simply let the plethora of thoughts and memories from the past week roll aimlessly through my mind. “Brain Dump” – except not in the writing form. Sometimes, it’s better that way. Most of the dump will remain unwritten.
I was pulled back to reality when I realized that people were really cruising through the rest area – they were at “full speed” (about 25 MPH) as they zoomed past me…making it through the thick, deep loose snow to park on the exit side of the rest area. That was a good idea, but, I knew there was no way I was going to be able to get enough speed from my car’s location to make it through the mush. Just then, I realized I really was one of the hopelessly stupid that was going to have to call the Iowa Highway Patrol for rescue. I went into the rest area building and called the toll free number (I did try *55, but, my phone didn’t like that number and wouldn’t connect). This wonderful lady answered the line, and walked me through what I needed to do. She was FANTASTIC. The highway patrol was busy rescuing other hopelessly stupid people who actually crashed, so, I wasn’t really a priority BUT she told me I could call a tow truck to get me out of there. Handy note: If you are in Iowa and pull off the road because of road conditions, you can still get towed as long as you aren’t in the ditch or on the side of the road. I guess the rest area was an okay choice (except it wasn’t…more on that in a moment). She also gave me the numbers to a couple towing companies. Thank you, lady at the Iowa Highway Patrol! She was a gem.
The knight with the steely white horse and a winch
The first place I called, Ankeny Towing, was able to come out and get me. He told me he would try to get to me within an hour, and since I had been at the rest area for many hours by this point, an hour more didn’t seem that bad. My phone was dying, and I had already sucked every bit of charge out of my laptop. So, I knew the hour would be one of quiet reflection and people watching. Yes, even in rest areas, there are interesting people to watch – even if they are just driving by on the interstate. The traffic was moving slow enough, I could see people conversing in their vehicles and get a pretty good look at their body language. So, that kept me busy for about 40 minutes of my wait. Then, there was this truck with a trailer that pulled over at the rest area. As they were pulling out, they didn’t have enough speed and got stuck in the snow. Now, I know they didn’t think it was funny….but, they were really rude to one of the rest area workers so I thought it was kind of funny that they were stuck. Sometimes karma is a swift creature. One guy popped out of the passenger side of the truck, up into the bed, and started bouncing up and down – as if his weight was going to be enough to get them unstuck. I nearly laughed out loud – but didn’t. While they were using their fantastic trouble shooting skills, my knight in tow truck armor appeared and started hooking up my car. Within a few minutes, a knight in semi-tow truck armor appeared to help one of the semi’s…and about 8 cars lined up behind them. The other knight came over and asked me what I was thinking pulling into a rest area. I told him I was thinking better that than the ditch. He laughed and said “Didn’t anyone ever tell you never to pull into a rest area when the roads are like this?” No one ever has. But, apparently, in some circles, it’s a known-fact that they don’t plow the rest areas clear through when the roads are bad. Now I know – it’s good information to have. (Not that it would have stopped me, given the same situation – I still think IT was better than the ditch, particularly since IT had restrooms…I haven’t seen those in ditches before).
A knight and his true calling
I popped into the cab of my knight’s tow truck, and warmed up while he finished hooking up my car. My dad and I had spoken and he assured me that if I could get to a certain location, the roads were much better and I would be able to get the rest of the way home on my own. I saw the light at the end of the cold tunnel. The driver told me to “pray” and we headed through the piles of loose snow to get out of the rest area, back onto the interstate. A few miles later, I realized that my phone had fallen out of my pocket as I got into his cab at the rest area. (Yes, HOPELESSLY STUPID). I know. My knight offered to actually make the trip BACK to the rest area (which entailed going past, taking the next exit, and then driving back into the rest area) and see if he could help me find it. Neither of us were hopeful. There was that tow truck and ALOT of cars behind us….not to mention that finding my tiny phone in all that snow seemed sort of like finding a needle in a haystack. A most-likely shattered needle. I honestly could have kissed him when he offered. It seems ridiculous to offer to do that for a phone. But, that phone is really a highly portable computer – not to mention that being on the roads as they were WITHOUT a phone of any kind seriously freaks me out. As we made the journey back to the rest area, I spotted 10 new vehicles in the ditches. The roads just weren’t getting any better.
My knight told me he was going to pull as close to where he was before as possible. He pulled up, stopped, I hopped out and there it was….my phone – right there by my feet. I reached down and pulled it out of the snow….expecting to pull pieces out. Amazingly, it was completely intact! A little snowy and slightly wet, but, completely intact! AND still working. Wow. Both of us were completely shocked. I thanked him profusely, and off we went again – towards the safe spot my dad had told me to get to.
As we drove, I realized that there would have been no possibility my car and I would have made it. The interstates were really bad – mostly plated ice. There were accidents everywhere. My car is light and agile – but, light and agile on ice is NOT a desireable trait. We chatted and I learned alot about my knight in tow truck armor. Seriously nice guy. We talked about college, science labs, math, and football. I like finding out about people, and he was talkative. It was a nice way to pass the time as we drove and watched people drive like idiots, right into the ditch.
Eventually, that leg of my journey ended. I climbed back behind my driver’s wheel, and braced myself for the unknown of the rest of the trip. It was eventless, thankfully. My body was at it’s limit, so, eventless was welcome. The roads were significantly better the rest of the way home. Funny how the highway was MUCH better than the interstate – even out in the middle of nowhere.
When I pulled into my driveway, I considered kissing the ground. I unloaded my car, grabbed my bags…and braced myself for the attack as I walked into the door…..
from a little golden brown sheagle….who desperately missed me and was sure that I needed a slobber bath.
Right then, I realized I had even missed that.
Over the last month, I’ve had the ultimate experience of interacting within an interesting subculture which has really laid down some really sharp demarkifications between Generation X (my generation) and Generation Y – that I find, personally, extraordinarily frustrating but equally interesting.
So, first, let me clarify the generational periods – because there is some overlap and some debate about where each begins and where each ends. When I talk about Generation X, I’m using the general criterion of birth between 1961-1981 – loosely. Generation Y, on the other hand, covers (semi-officially) the mid-1970s to the mid-1990s. Generations are typically 25.2 years (for those of us in the U.S.) – but, as you can see, there’s a great deal of overlap between these two. So, for my purposes, we are going to let that grey area go away…and consider Gen X 1961-1981 and Gen Y become 1981-1995. In other words, I think the greatest differences in these two generations took place somewhere *outside* of those gray areas – almost a pre-early 80’s v. post-early 80’s. The gray areas being a transitional period where the generational differences are not as severe or defined.
Before I go further – a few caveats – there are always “exceptions to the rule” – and this isn’t any different. I know Gen Y members who are not necessarily like this (at least in my presence), or whom I can not speak to how marked the difference is. These are mostly friends of my kids – so, they are better “editted” when they are around me…or, I am not as readily able to discern there Y-isms, simply because I’ve seen them grow up and are used to that trait from that particular person. And, of course, there are always going to be those Y’s who simply don’t seem to belong in their own generation (just like individuals in other generations).
The second caveat – Gen X has grown up….so, we (generally) do have very different world views from people who are still trying to figure out what/who they are (Gen Y). This, in and of itself, can be a major factor in the cross-generational phenomena. I remember being a late teen (18, 19), and remember my early to mid-twenties. I also distinctly remember thinking that I had it all figured out. I’ve cross the chasm of “it all figured out” at this point in my life – from the “definitely have ….” to “accept I never will have…” But, I definitely was not there in my late teens and early to mid twenties. Still, there are days when I sit in class and wonder if I was like this – and feel complete pity for anyone in a different generation that I came across during those years if that is the case. Also, with age comes the possibility for greater self-understanding. Read that carefully – I didn’t say self-understanding comes with age…..only the possibility of self understanding comes with age. The rest is up to the individual.
I have only started composing the “list of differences” from my own personal experience over the past month. I’m sure this will change and update over the next few years. So without further ado….let’s do a little vignette exploration of Gen Y.
(By Jim Rohn)
“The ants are a people not strong, yet they gather their food in the summer.”
Proverbs 30:26
Over the years I’ve been teaching children about a simple but powerful concept – The Ant Philosophy. I think everybody should study ants. They have an amazing four-part philosophy.
The first part is: Ants never quit. That’s a good philosophy. If they’re headed somewhere and you try to stop them, they will look for another way. They’ll climb over. They’ll climb under. They’ll climb around. They keep looking for another way until they find one. What a neat philosophy, to never quit looking for a way to get where you’re supposed to go.
Second, ants think winter all summer. That’s an important perspective. You can’t be so naive as to think summer will last forever. So ants are gathering in their winter food in the middle of summer. An ancient story says, “Don’t build your house on the sand in the summer.” Why do we need that advice? Because while it may seem like sand is a good place to build in the summer when it’s dry, you’ve got to think ahead to the storms of the winter when it is wet and where sand may not be so good when it floods. As you enjoy the sand and Summer sun, you’ve got to think rocks for a more solid foundation to weather the storms of Winter. Think ahead. Ants do.
The third part of the ant philosophy is that ants think summer all winter. That is so important. During the winter, ants remind themselves, “This won’t last long; we’ll soon be out of here.” And the first warm day, the ants are out. If it turns cold again, they’ll dive back down, but then they come out the first warm day. During winter, they live in a state of positive expectation and can’t wait to get out.
And here’s the last part of the ant philosophy. How much will an ant gather during the summer to prepare for the winter? All he possibly can. What an incredible philosophy, the “all-you-possibly-can” philosophy.
Wow, what a great seminar – “The Ant Seminar,” taught and lived by tiny six-legged creatures with brains smaller than the head of a pin, yet containing all the wisdom they need to succeed and survive.
1. Never give up.
2. Look ahead.
3. Stay positive.
4. Do all you can.
People write whole books on these topics while the life of an ant expresses these principles in less than a dozen words.
Reprinted from The Raindrop Messenger, a free eline newsletter, with permission from Dr. David Stewart. To subscribe or download back issues, visit www.RaindropTraining.com.
This has definitely been a long week for Hollywood, with the death of three icons (two in the same day). While some deaths may not have been suprising (because the icon had been ill for quite some time), another left the world asking “why?”.
Then, our little state lost its own icon in a tragic death that has no rhyme or reason….and just makes you wonder what makes a guy rip away someone else’s life, leaving everyone else in a pool of his aftermath. I’ve always struggled with this – what happens inside someone’s head that makes it “okay” for him to destroy not only the victim’s life, but, the lives of everyone around them – both the victim and the murderer.
I am confident, in the case of Ed Thomas, that the townspeople of Applington-Parkersburg will get this through this. There are calls for prayers for both the Thomas family and the Becker family….but, gosh, what a terrible thing. And the townsfolk that I’ve watched in interviews – both after the devastating tornado last year and Coach Thomas’ death this year….in general, they appear to be strong Iowans….who pick up the pieces, deal with it, and keep moving forward.
While we are on the topic….when there are MULTIPLE witnesses to a shooting, why is it that the shooter is still presumed innocent? I know that it’s the way our justice system was set up….but, when someone is clearly guilty (the person who commited the crime)….is that really necessary? Maybe if there is more than 20 eyewitnesses (since we all know how unreliable eyewitnesses testimony can be), we can just skip the “potential gunman”, and go straight to – this guy did it.
Back to the losses of our national icons. It kind of makes me angry that everyone continues to bash Michael Jackson after his death. He was strange – eccentric – but, that isn’t criminal. He had a terrible time (from the sounds of it) managing money – again, NOT criminal. And, if you all remember….he was found not guilty of the charges. Weird that many people presume he was guilty when he was found not guilty (without 20+ eyewitnesses)….but, a guy who is CLEARLY guilty of murder (back to the Iowa Icon’s death) is still presumed innocent. How screwed up is that???
No matter what Jackson’s personal issues were – he was eccentric, not very good with money management, not super good at choosing the people around him wisely, terribly misunderstood, frail but not frail, addicted and not addicted, etc….he was a great artist who changed the face of music videos and music itself. I liked his music when I was younger, and was ALWAYS amazed at his artistry.
I think this is more of a case of people not understanding the mind of an artist. They have a tendency to see the world much differently than a non-artistic person….sometimes, people think they are just an “odd duck” and sometimes people think they are a total freak….but, in the end, in my opinion, it has to do with living in a different side of our heads. He was what I considered an “upper level” artist – someone who was not only artistic, but, one who was almost a prodigy. Those artists don’t come along often – but, they *almost always* have “issues”….So, while us common artists are considered a little odd…..the prodigy type artists are “cut-off-my-ear” type odd – again, not criminal….but, that living in that side of your head at that intensity couldn’t possibly make you more normal than the average artist….if anything, it would push you in the other direction. The perfectionism that comes with it….well, that never helps a person emotionally.
And, Farrah….I have to say that I couldn’t imagine going from a “sex icon” to releasing a documentary on your struggle with cancer. But, I think allowing people to see that not-glamorous battle demonstrated, in a big way, her spirit – it was very important to her for people to see that battle that every day people face and the fact that she was a “sex icon” when she rose to fame didn’t stop her from showing the raw ugliness of cancer and the treatment of it. I *didn’t* watch the documentary…when I was flipping through the channels, I saw it, but, watched less than 2 minutes and found myself wondering why someone would watch the whole thing – not because of the documentary, itself…but, more the subject matter. I found the whole idea to be very sad and borderline morbid.
Then, there was Ed McMahon….some people said they were shocked when the news of his death was released….but, I am not sure why. He had not been in good health for several years. EVERYONE – even people who didn’t see Carson/McMahon on the tonight show know that great “Heeeeeeeeeeere’s Johnny!” – and you see people trying to come up with that great one line that everyone will remember them by all the time. McMahon was definitely an original. I’m also sad that he will never come to my door with a check for 10 million dollars! I never thought of McMahon as a “pichman”….but, when I heard him referred to as a great pitchman, I had to agree….his name gave credibility to many things that otherwise wouldn’t have meritted a second glance.
All in all, a very sad week. I hope, as time passes, we will be able to recognize the best of those we have lost and understand that what we see on the surface can easily be misunderstood.
Two posts in one day? I know…it rarely happens.
On my drive to the city today, I recalled an excellent explanation regarding world government/ideologies/societal structures that I read as a forwarded email years ago (see the last definition below to get a feel for when…it was highly relevant at the time I read this originally). With all the talk of socialism vs. capitalism vs. communism etc, I thought it was appropriate to find the fun and simple explanation and post it to give everyone some simple clarity on where we may be headed.
I do not have the original author information to give credit where credit is due. So, if you happen to know the original source (or *are* the original source), please let me know and I will update the post to reflect the source information.
Read these closely…..and feel free to replace “cows” with property that is more personally relevant to you (or, you can just insert CAR COMPANIES and you will get a really good idea, considering Chrysler and GM’s dispositions as of the time of this post).
Feudalism
You have two cows. Your lord takes some of the milk.
Pure Socialism
You have two cows. The government takes them and puts them in a barn with everyone else’s cows. You have to take care of all the cows. The government gives you all the milk you need.
Bureaucratic Socialism
Your cows are cared for by ex-chicken farmers. You have to take care of the chickens the government took from the chicken farmers. The government gives you as much milk and eggs the regulations say you should need.
Fascism
You have two cows. The government takes both, hires you to take care of them, and sells you the milk.
Pure Communism
You have two cows. Your neighbors help you take care of them, and you all share the milk.
Real World Communism
You share two cows with your neighbors. You and your neighbors bicker about who has the most “ability” and who has the most “need”. Meanwhile, no one works, no one gets any milk, and the cows drop dead of starvation.
Russian Communism
You have two cows. You have to take care of them, but the government takes all the milk. You steal back as much milk as you can and sell it on the black market.
Perestroika
You have two cows. You have to take care of them, but the Mafia takes all the milk. You steal back as much milk as you can and sell it on the “free” market.
Cambodian Communism
You have two cows. The government takes both and shoots you.
Militarianism
You have two cows. The government takes both and drafts you.
Totalitarianism
You have two cows. The government takes them and denies they ever existed. Milk is banned.
Pure Democracy
You have two cows. Your neighbors decide who gets the milk.
Representative Democracy
You have two cows. Your neighbors pick someone to tell you who gets the milk.
British Democracy
You have two cows. You feed them sheeps’ brains and they go mad. The government doesn’t do anything.
Bureaucracy
You have two cows. At first the government regulates what you can feed them and when you can milk them. Then it pays you not to milk them. Then it takes both, shoots one, milks the other and pours the milk down the drain. Then it requires you to fill out forms accounting for the missing cows.
Pure Anarchy
You have two cows. Either you sell the milk at a fair price or your neighbors try to take the cows and kill you.
Pure Capitalism
You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull.
Capitalism
You don’t have any cows. The bank will not lend you money to buy cows, because you don’t have any cows to put up as collateral.
Enviromentalism
You have two cows. The government bans you from milking or killing them.
Political Correctness
You are associated with (the concept of “ownership” is a symbol of the phallo centric, war mongering, intolerant past) two differently – aged (but no less valuable to society) bovines of non-specified gender.
Surrealism
You have two giraffes. The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.
Enronism
You have two cows. You borrow 80% of the forward value of the two cows from your bank, then buy another cow with 5% down and the rest financed by the seller on a note callable if your market cap goes below $20B at a rate 2 times prime. You sell the three cows to your publicly listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so you get four cows back, with a tax exemption for five cows. The milk rights of six cows are transferred via an intermediary to a Cayman Island company secretly owned by the majority shareholder, who sells the rights to seven cows back to your listed company. The annual report says the company owns eight cows, with an option on one more. This transaction process is upheld by your independent auditor with no negative balance sheet implications, followed by a press release that announces that Enron, as a major owner of cows may begin trading cows via a new internet site.
If there is one thing I understand to the core of my being, it is that a person should never make judgments of someone else based on what we perceive to be his or her life – because you do not know what happens “behind closed doors” in his or her world.
As I approach the beginning of my 37th year on the earth, I’m facing demons that I wanted to believe – had almost convinced myself – I had vanquished. Demons that continue to haunt me….demons that appeared behind closed doors what feels like lifetimes ago – and, demons that I am keenly aware of, now, have continued to shrink my world years after I thought they were gone.
What I realize – and things have been “working up to” this point for quite some time (more than a year) – is that I wouldn’t wish what I’m going through on my worst enemy. And, more importantly, I don’t want anyone else to go through this ever-shrinking of their world because they have these same demons chasing them in their lives.
The demons have a counter force, which we will call my angels – although, at this time in my life, I struggle to accept that the angels’ actions are a blessing because they have effectively stolen a great deal of my memories for the sake of self-protection. However, I accept that the self-protection must have a purpose and I may not be here today, to share bits and pieces of a painful journey, without those dim and, in many cases, completely missing memories.
In my youth, I made a serious of really dumb decisions – one of them resulted in a very abusive relationship, mentally and physically. After many years – way too many years – I found the courage to leave the relationship….but (most likely) only because my maternal instincts kicked in and I knew I had to protect my children. I do remember the day I realized that something was very wrong, and that my false assumption that all the abuse was directed towards me was, indeed, false. I remember very little before that day – what I remember is either extremely vivid or very dim….but, the memories are, for the most part, buried somewhere deep within me that I’m not able to reach. And, I also have huge gaps in memory that have continued to occur since leaving that situation.
It’s baffled me, for quite some time, why the memory gaps continue. Yet, as I’ve started this battle, on my own (more on that in a moment), I’ve begun to realize that ignoring those demons have set into action forces that continue to put me in similar situations (not the same situations – I have not repeated that sort of long term abusive relationship since that time) in one form or another. What I am beginning to understand, now, is that my “angels” have continued to work to protect me – hiding those times somewhere locked away so that I can continue on – in whatever form that continuance takes.
I’ve joked previously that this is just “age”….but, when I speak with people (which I don’t do that often – at least in a personal manner), I’m finding that it’s not the “norm” to have such large gaps and shortages in your memory at this age. I am rarely able to know, for example, when something happened – even when it’s significant. I can put it in a very general timeline – something like “before 1998″ or “after this child was born” – but, rarely am I able to categorize something in more specific terms (whether it happened in 2008 or 2009, for example, is usually something I’m unable to say – unless the event took place within a few weeks of needing to categorize it).
I’m also finding that this past year has essentially been locked away somewhere in the recesses of my mind – telling me that I’m in that same pattern again – and I know the only way to free myself – allowing me to become the person I was meant to be – is to start confronting these demons and finally put them to rest – not just lock them away, but, actually confront them and come out the other side victorious.
Despite the fact that I love my art, I have come to the difficult realization that the way my business is structured, I have set up a situation where I am constantly in a state of not feeling worthy and hoping for validation of my worth through my customers. And, despite receiving countless “validations” from my customers with glowing comments, I continue to hold my breath every time something ships, because these invisible demons haunt me – reminding me that I wasn’t good enough “back then” to avoid being abused and wasn’t strong enough to leave a bad situation long before I did.
This is where a twisted dichotomy comes in because my brain tells me that those are the most ridiculous notions. That nothing I did or didn’t do at the time – neither who I was or who I wasn’t – deserved that abuse. No one deserves to be abused. But, somewhere within me lies that scared young woman who believed she could change someone else and who also believed, wrongly, that she was directly responsible for every bit of abuse that was directed at her.
I do not believe I was a victim – victims don’t survive. But, to be a survivor, I know that I’ve got to confront these demons from the past – those things that continue to isolate me and prevent me from living the life I was designed to life and continue to hold me in a past that I am unable to fully remember. I do not know where to begin – one thing that is certain is that trust is something that I still need to relearn. The question becomes…”How does one learn to trust when she needs to trust someone to teach her how to trust?”
I find it interesting that in the past 12 years, I have not formed friendships with any of my children’s friends’ parents. It’s hard to get past the judgments that people make when they don’t know what’s happened behind closed doors. And, even if they aren’t making judgments (which most likely they weren’t), it’s hard to accept that knowing that I have judged myself so harshly for what happened. In the end, though, it comes to demons and trust. Those demons keep me isolated from others – even when I’ve been in a rooms full of people. The inability to trust kept me isolated so that I didn’t have to deal with the demons. And the circle will continue to repeat until I am able to step out of it.
I share this today for two reasons; first, I hope that people can resist the urge to label others when they don’t really know what is happening or has happened behind closed doors. And, second, but just as important, I hope this will give someone, somewhere a glimmer of hope that he or she will be able to take back her life from the same demons….and go on to do incredible things with her life.
As for me, I know what I am supposed to do with my life – I just need to connect the dots from here to there. The first step was admitting that these demons are still with me after all these years. I’m working on the second step. I’m not fooling myself into believing that any of this will be easy – if it was easy, I would have dealt with the demons way back then…..but, I DO believe that the strength I showed when I chose to rescue my children and myself from that situation – despite the time it took for me to find that strength – is still in me today. And, that strength is exactly what I will need to see this through and reach the “there” from “here.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
Would you eat it?
First, a few weeks ago, I read an article about blue peanut butter. Yes, you read that right – BLUE peanut butter. Apparently, someone decided that Blue Dye No. 2 *may be* chemically similar to compounds that bind to cancer-causing chemicals, limiting their ability to mutate DNA.
To figure this all out (I’m still wondering about how this came up in the first place…..who has the time to think up this stuff?????), they fed Rainbow trout (okay, I think it’s funny that they fed a *rainbow* of colors to something with rainbow in its name…..I’m not a fan of animal testing, or, rather testing on sentient beings since fish apparently aren’t animals, but, still, I can definitely appreciate the irony of it) known carcinogens AND then some of the trout also got one type of dye or another (of course, some got *none*) and they tracked what happened. The experimental process was definitely not as cut and dried as that, but, I don’t want to get too wrapped up in that part of the story.
Now, I’m all for using food to help us with our health…..and, this *is*, after all, the same dye they use for blue m&m’s.
But, Blue peanut butter?
It seems sort of unnatural, doesn’t it? Not to mention….I’m not convinced that eating chemicals on purpose is really that good of an idea if we can avoid it. Obviously, if we are eating m & m’s, we know that we are adding a bunch of unnatural stuff to our diet – at least I don’t think of M & M’s as healthy/health promoting food…..but, there IS natural peanut butter out there without anything added to it….so, if I’m going for a peanut butter fix, I’m thinking that I won’t be picking up the blue peanut butter DESPITE this “fantastic breakthrough”.
If I want to get my blue nutrition (nutrients that only come from blue things), I will find something like a blue berry…which isn’t actually blue – it’s purple. There aren’t any natural foods that are truly blue.
Maybe that’s nature trying to tell us something! Blue is for rainbows and crayons (i.e. not something to eat)….let’s leave it there and find colors that are actually in our foods to promote health!
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