Tag Archives: purpose

Here’s What I Think

Today’s regularly-scheduled blog will be pre-empted to make space for this motivational but highly opinionated post.

It takes a certain kind of person to be a politician, and probably not the kind of person most of us would choose for a close friend. But, as my mom said, it takes all kinds of people to make a world, so there you go.

As for me, I think I’m like a lot of world and American citizens. I am pro-choice and pro-life. I’m for gun rights and for gun control. I think everyone should be free to love whomever they choose. I don’t want anyone telling me what I can or can’t do in my own home and I’m sure you feel the same. I am strongly opposed to war and strongly supportive of the men and women who risk their lives to protect us. I support our police officers and I insist that there is a better way to hold police departments responsible for the abhorrent behavior of the appalling few. I don’t think anyone should be able to tell you when, where, how, how much, with whom, or in what fashion you worship. I believe in women’s rights, civil rights, LGBTQ rights, Native American rights, workers’ rights, student rights, rights for left-handed people, rights for everybody, because this is America, dammit. I believe in states’ rights, but I don’t want to live in the country of Arizona. I support immigration reform — border security AND refugee resettlement AND work permits.

Am I not everywoman?

Maybe not, but here is one single solid truth: after tomorrow we will know who our new President is going to be. It will be done, for better or worse. And you and I will still be neighbors. We will still have our own opinions and the freedom to share them. We will be the ones who have to live with each other after all the rhetoric and shouting and trash-talking by the candidates is over.

Please be kind. Please remember we are all someone’s mother or father, daughter or son, sister or brother. Please, please remember the Golden Rule.

Remember we are Americans and we all belong to the same race — the human race. Be a good human.

Now get out there and vote!

(Just kidding; left-handed people shouldn’t have the same rights as normal people 😏)

Functional Dysfunction

July 21, 2014

What I’m having so much trouble understanding is why, at the point in my life that I have the freedom to do whatever I want (within reason), I can’t seem to figure out what it is that I want. Maybe I liked the yoke of responsibility. Perhaps I need something, someone to blame for not getting out there, getting moving, getting something DONE. I’m a coward.

That’s what it comes down to, I’m ashamed to say. I liked having an excuse for not following my dreams. For not even looking very closely at my dreams. For not even checking to see if I still had dreams.

My Third Epiphany was (I’ve had five epiphanies so far. More about that later.) Anyway, The Third: Anyone can do anything they want, as long as they want it badly enough. So once I realized that, there no longer was a viable excuse for not going after what I wanted. I just stopped thinking about myself as a living, breathing human who had wants and needs and DREAMS. I just became The One Who Takes Care of Others.

And now that I have removed the cap of the nurturing caregiver (whatever that looks like), I don’t recognize myself. I forgot what I like to do. Except read – I like to read. If I could go away to a deserted tropical island stocked with an endless supply of books, a comfy chair, my friend Mischief (canine), and a teapot that was always full, I’d be there in a minute. Just kidding, I can’t do that. Reason One: Sick mom. Reason Two: Needy Husband. Reason Three: My Kids Might Need Me. Reason Four: See Paragraph Number One, Above.

Before you say “Empty Nest Syndrome,” be aware that my kids are 21 and 27. This nest has been empty for so long that there is nary a feather remaining. However, my husband and I managed to develop a comfortably uncomfortable dysfunctional relationship known as co-dependency. Simply put, he depends on me to always be there for him, down to the smallest measurement of time you can think of. And in return, I gave up my individuality and became an extension of him. It didn’t happen quickly; we’ve been married 32 years. It was so subtle that we didn’t notice, especially him. Not until the last couple of years when I started pulling back a little, started looking for myself again. And so here we are in the middle of a robust mid-life marriage crisis, the depths of which we have just begun to plumb. In other words, it’s going to get a helluva lot worse before it gets better.