Who inspires me the most? My mother, for many reasons. Between everything I have put that woman through, and the things she went through with my father in the past, and everything in between, she should be canonized as a saint. But that's not even the half of it.
A mother's love is unconditional, for most people. I am one of those lucky people to have a Mom who is not only supportive in every way, but can see past my Dark Half, push it aside, and remember who I really am. She loves me for ME. The real ME. You never know the true meaning of what it is like to be a parent, until you become one yourself. Now I know....now I know.
One of the most amazing things about my mother is her capacity to be completely selfless. A little over a month ago, my Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. That morning, I had a feeling something was wrong, and the confirmation came when she sat on my porch and told me the grim news. It was devastating. I felt helpless as she sat there and cried, and I quietly wondered how in the world someone as good as her deserved this. I'd been so awful; I'd gladly have taken on the battle for her if I could have. We went into the house to make coffee, and to my complete amazement, she spoke these words to me: "No matter what happens, Ali, I do NOT want this to stray you from your path." In a moment where this was, and should be, all about her, she was thinking of me. Selfless. Later that day, after she broke the news to my sister, she called me to tell me how bad she felt. "Why Mom?", I said. "I felt bad because your sister sounded so upset", she said. Again, selfless.
So, the other day, I was looking through some old Get Well cards from when I broke my back 20 years ago. Before I had my accident, I had been living with my grandfather and sister, but upon leaving the hospitals (I had been in two, yes), I went to stay with my parents as I needed someone to take care of me. Of course, that person was my mother. When I was well enough, I went back to live with Gramps and Sis. Anyway, amongst all the get well wishes, I found a note card from my mother, dated after I left her to go back to my other roommates. The first line of the card read, "Thank you for allowing me to take care of you." Wait, what? Shouldn't I have been thanking her? Selfless.
I could give many more examples, like how brave she is after the difficult year our family has had, now only to be faced with breast cancer. Or how she tells me all the time that she loves me no matter what, how talented she thinks I am (and I always joke that she tells me that because she's my mother and is obligated), and how she has never stopped having faith in me. I've learned so much from my Mom that I can't even put it all into words. She is the pillar of strength from which I draw upon for my own strength. She is the glue that holds our family together. The one we can all count on to be loving, supportive, and never utter an unkind word.
Now it is our turn to hold her up, support her, and become the glue that she has been for my sister and myself. We will always be here for you, Mom....it is time for you to be selfish, and for US to be selfless.
~AJW 7/11/11~
Monday, July 11, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Dusting Off My Halo
This isn't going to be a big story or anything. I just need to get some feelings out so I can feel a little better, or at least try. My heart has been heavy the past few days due to some harassment issues, which I would rather not go into detail here. I've never gone through this before and I'm having a difficult time dealing with it. I do talk about it when I need to, but I'm just tired of HAVING to deal with it. And the worst part of it is, I feel like I only have myself to blame.
I do know I do not deserve to be stalked, by anyone, but had this individual not been introduced into my life during active addiction, I wonder if this would even be happening. I HAVE to take responsibility, at least for that. It fills me with quite a bit of guilt; not only am I affected by it, but so is my husband. I feel like when I'm only just trying to put the past behind me, it just comes creeping back, literally.
A couple of people I spoke to today, though, put it into perspective for me. The past is the past, and I've consistently been working hard to move forward and rebuild my life in a positive way. That being said, no matter what I've done, I don't deserve to be stalked or harassed, especially when I've made it quite clear that I want no contact. I know they are right, and I keep telling myself that and it's helping.
The consequences of our actions can be a real bitch. However, there are laws and boundaries that no one should cross, regardless. I've taken steps in doing the right thing, even though the devil on my shoulder tells me otherwise. I made a commitment to myself after this last devastating relapse to always do the right thing, and move forward, and ask for help when I need it. So, as much as I'd like to choke the crap out of this person, I'm not going to stoop down to their level.
This is where my Dialectal Behavioral Therapy comes into play...big time.
~AJW 7/7/11~
I do know I do not deserve to be stalked, by anyone, but had this individual not been introduced into my life during active addiction, I wonder if this would even be happening. I HAVE to take responsibility, at least for that. It fills me with quite a bit of guilt; not only am I affected by it, but so is my husband. I feel like when I'm only just trying to put the past behind me, it just comes creeping back, literally.
A couple of people I spoke to today, though, put it into perspective for me. The past is the past, and I've consistently been working hard to move forward and rebuild my life in a positive way. That being said, no matter what I've done, I don't deserve to be stalked or harassed, especially when I've made it quite clear that I want no contact. I know they are right, and I keep telling myself that and it's helping.
The consequences of our actions can be a real bitch. However, there are laws and boundaries that no one should cross, regardless. I've taken steps in doing the right thing, even though the devil on my shoulder tells me otherwise. I made a commitment to myself after this last devastating relapse to always do the right thing, and move forward, and ask for help when I need it. So, as much as I'd like to choke the crap out of this person, I'm not going to stoop down to their level.
This is where my Dialectal Behavioral Therapy comes into play...big time.
~AJW 7/7/11~
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Evolution of Essence: Bridging Our Connections With Familiars
Good grief, I feel like my brain is oozing out of my ears today. I would have continued this discussion on my last blog post, but writing tends to exhaust me and I need to rest afterward. So after writing the last piece, I went and laid my head down. But, I knew I hadn't written all I wanted to write, and as what usually happens when something is left unwritten or unfinished with me, I cannot rest. This, in itself, can be maddening. It's like Chinese water torture for my brain; it's just not going to stop until I release everything I know, or feel.
So, where was I? I was explaining my thoughts on the Evolution of Our Essence. In a roundabout way I related this to past lives and our essence being reborn into each new shell until it completes its Evolution. So, why then, do we have families, or tribes, or clans/groups of people if the point is to evolve individually? Well, because in my opinion, we not only learn from our own evolution, but the evolution of others. Further, I believe as beings of energy, certain types of energy attract to one another, much like if you were to stand outside in a storm and hold a metal rod...the lightning would veer toward that rod because it is familiar and can conduct it's life force, its essence or energy, through that particular material, or matter. So, we as energy are attracted toward the physical; matter that is familiar to us. In these terms, it is through blood, kinship, family, or other connections we make through "like-minded" energy. It is these connections that anchor us in the physical world, in our very own bodies and in the bodies of others.
I have the tendency to believe that being attracted to like matter and energy has something very much to do with why you connect with certain people and why you do not. Why some people attract you, and others repel you. I believe that these "like-minded" energies can travel through multiple life cycles together. Because not only do we continue to evolve personally, we evolve together. We learn from our own mistakes, but we also learn from each other's. Think on this for a moment: perhaps the reason I am a mother is to teach my son lessons that I have learned from the past, including beyond my current shell. Perhaps in another "shell", my son was MY teacher, in some form, perhaps even my brother or my father, because there were things he had to teach ME. But what he did not know, or could not learn for himself, cycled back to me, and my knowledge, and what I had to give to him, and so on and so on. Interesting.
It is this concept which also makes me curious about the other connections in our lives - friendships. Also, people we really don't know at all but can connect or identify with on some level. I think that quite possibly, these connections, these friends, even if at some point they drop out of your (current) life, will remain connected to you, energetically, in the next because you each have something to give each other, and of course, you're still learning. In regards to people we really don't know, but can identify with through means of shared experiences, I think it is because at some point in each of our cycles, we've passed these people, or other energies, before and can, in a very real way, feel that connection again at a later life cycle. Though, sometimes, we just cannot recognize or pinpoint it for what it is.
Which brings me now to deja vu. Have you ever been somewhere or met someone you were so sure you had been before or met before? That the possibility that you dreamt it HAD to be an impossibility? I forget the exact way that Science has explained this in medical terms, but it's something along the lines of your brain, for an instant, misfiring. As if there is a "skip" in the CD that is your brain, so when it skips, it goes backward in time for an instant, and replays from that instant. Thus, this results in the feeling of "deja vu". Honestly, I don't think, or rather, I no longer feel that this is a completely satisfactory explanation. I get the basic components of it, but what makes your brain "misfire" in the first place?
Our brains are so complex and as much a mystery as to the question why we are even here. Physically, the body cannot survive without the brain. It controls everything in our chemical makeup. It emits electrical impulses (energy!) to our organs and our limbs so that our bodies know what to do, how to react. Is it so impossible, then, to imagine that our energy, when it takes on another life cycle, or physical form, that the very essence of who we are goes into the brain? Is it impossible to imagine that these moments of deja vu are our brains telling us, "I remember this" or "This person seems familiar to me, or I've met them before" but they are actually memories that could span over hundreds, maybe even thousands of years....perhaps over many millenia? But why do we NOT remember everything, with the utmost clarity?
Because, I feel, as with most matters of the physical, it is a built in defense mechanism to keep from driving you mad. The brain offers many defense mechanisms, as we all know. I really don't know how else to explain it, and I'm not going to try. It is only how I feel, and that's all I can say. What I do know is that I feel better. And in doing this simple act of writing, I've learned one of my lessons of this life - creating a healthy outlet to express myself. Mission accomplished.
AJW 6/28/11
So, where was I? I was explaining my thoughts on the Evolution of Our Essence. In a roundabout way I related this to past lives and our essence being reborn into each new shell until it completes its Evolution. So, why then, do we have families, or tribes, or clans/groups of people if the point is to evolve individually? Well, because in my opinion, we not only learn from our own evolution, but the evolution of others. Further, I believe as beings of energy, certain types of energy attract to one another, much like if you were to stand outside in a storm and hold a metal rod...the lightning would veer toward that rod because it is familiar and can conduct it's life force, its essence or energy, through that particular material, or matter. So, we as energy are attracted toward the physical; matter that is familiar to us. In these terms, it is through blood, kinship, family, or other connections we make through "like-minded" energy. It is these connections that anchor us in the physical world, in our very own bodies and in the bodies of others.
I have the tendency to believe that being attracted to like matter and energy has something very much to do with why you connect with certain people and why you do not. Why some people attract you, and others repel you. I believe that these "like-minded" energies can travel through multiple life cycles together. Because not only do we continue to evolve personally, we evolve together. We learn from our own mistakes, but we also learn from each other's. Think on this for a moment: perhaps the reason I am a mother is to teach my son lessons that I have learned from the past, including beyond my current shell. Perhaps in another "shell", my son was MY teacher, in some form, perhaps even my brother or my father, because there were things he had to teach ME. But what he did not know, or could not learn for himself, cycled back to me, and my knowledge, and what I had to give to him, and so on and so on. Interesting.
It is this concept which also makes me curious about the other connections in our lives - friendships. Also, people we really don't know at all but can connect or identify with on some level. I think that quite possibly, these connections, these friends, even if at some point they drop out of your (current) life, will remain connected to you, energetically, in the next because you each have something to give each other, and of course, you're still learning. In regards to people we really don't know, but can identify with through means of shared experiences, I think it is because at some point in each of our cycles, we've passed these people, or other energies, before and can, in a very real way, feel that connection again at a later life cycle. Though, sometimes, we just cannot recognize or pinpoint it for what it is.
Which brings me now to deja vu. Have you ever been somewhere or met someone you were so sure you had been before or met before? That the possibility that you dreamt it HAD to be an impossibility? I forget the exact way that Science has explained this in medical terms, but it's something along the lines of your brain, for an instant, misfiring. As if there is a "skip" in the CD that is your brain, so when it skips, it goes backward in time for an instant, and replays from that instant. Thus, this results in the feeling of "deja vu". Honestly, I don't think, or rather, I no longer feel that this is a completely satisfactory explanation. I get the basic components of it, but what makes your brain "misfire" in the first place?
Our brains are so complex and as much a mystery as to the question why we are even here. Physically, the body cannot survive without the brain. It controls everything in our chemical makeup. It emits electrical impulses (energy!) to our organs and our limbs so that our bodies know what to do, how to react. Is it so impossible, then, to imagine that our energy, when it takes on another life cycle, or physical form, that the very essence of who we are goes into the brain? Is it impossible to imagine that these moments of deja vu are our brains telling us, "I remember this" or "This person seems familiar to me, or I've met them before" but they are actually memories that could span over hundreds, maybe even thousands of years....perhaps over many millenia? But why do we NOT remember everything, with the utmost clarity?
Because, I feel, as with most matters of the physical, it is a built in defense mechanism to keep from driving you mad. The brain offers many defense mechanisms, as we all know. I really don't know how else to explain it, and I'm not going to try. It is only how I feel, and that's all I can say. What I do know is that I feel better. And in doing this simple act of writing, I've learned one of my lessons of this life - creating a healthy outlet to express myself. Mission accomplished.
AJW 6/28/11
Sinner to Saint: The Evolution of Our Essence
I think it is imperative, at least to me, to note before I begin that all opinions expressed by me are just that, opinions...or thoughts, beliefs, whatever. I would never intentionally impose them on anyone. That being said, I think it is also important to point out that it is pretty sad that I even have to say it. But whatever, I will do the politically correct thing and just state it, for the record.
I also have to say that this is a really emotional day for me. Although to be quite honest, I have no clue why. It irritates me to no end when I feel like this; not knowing what it is that bothers me really grates on my last nerve. So if I babble a bit or throughout, that is why. There is a lot in my head at the moment. You know how people do that little dance when they have to pee? Well, instead of my bladder, I need to drain my brain. It's the only way I know how to let it go or feel any relief from it. Except for the alternative of course, and that is SO not happening.
I was in church on Sunday morning, and as you can tell, I didn't go up in a puff of smoke when I entered. All kidding aside, I was there for a memorial mass for my Dad, on the very day of the first anniversary of his death. It continually amazes me that whenever I have been in church over the last 25 or so years, how all the old rituals and prayers come back as if they never even left me, or more so, as if I never left them behind. But I know now that eight years of repetitiveness is the real reason. It's like anything else; once it's been pounded into your head over a period of time, it comes back as naturally as the habit of brushing your teeth.
So, as the mass wore on, and it came time for Holy Communion, my Mom and my sister got up to go and receive the body of Christ. (Which incidentally, I always secretly wondered how someone came to the conclusion that Christ's flesh is a flavorless, styrofoam consistency.) Unbelievably, the first thought that came to my mind as I sat and watched my mother and sister rise from the pew was, "I can't go up there, I'm a sinner." I don't know why that thought came to mind, only that most probably, it was the old Christian rules surfacing. It surprised me though, as I have absolutely no use for religious or spiritual rituals of any kind. I think I've mentioned before that no matter what religion or dogma I have ever studied, the rituals involved ALWAYS made me feel completely ridiculous. But the word "sinner" grated at my brain.
And maybe this is part of a huge web of spiritual struggle within the core of my being. Honestly, I don't like the way it feels. There have been many times in my life that I have struggled with what I have been taught as opposed to what I actually believe. It seemed easier to just push it all out and believe absolutely nothing. It worked for me, for many many years. But, the new life I have been given through recovery, and my vision of the world, my world, around me has given me great pause. The inner struggle is returning and it's not leaving me alone. Not even for a moment. So, to deal with this inner turmoil, I feel it necessary for my own sanity to evaluate what it is I believe, at this point in my life. Good grief, here we go.
I've always believed, whether it was when I was Catholic or when I was an Atheist, very strongly in humanism. I believe in what is tangible to me. I hold no faith in what I cannot see. No, let me correct that, the one thing I do hold faith in is the basic goodness of people and that in some way, shape or form, we are all connected. I just simply cannot force myself into believing in things I absolutely know nothing about, and may never know. Humanism, to me, is about the here and now. It puzzles me that so many spend so much time on the what ifs that they become blinded by all the mysteries, and don't appreciate what is right in front of them. We are here, we are real - no one knows why we ARE here, but that, in and of itself, is the beauty of it. While others obsess on what awaits us when the cycle of life is over, I'm busy enjoying what it is that I have RIGHT NOW. This includes not only those immediately connected to me, those people who I love, but everyone around me. After all, we are connected; we all sprung to life from a single-celled organism. We have evolved as a species, and it is our responsibility to evolve as individuals.
The one thing I do think about when I think about death, is that at our core, we are made of matter and energy. Matter withers and dies eventually, but energy does not. So where does our energy go when we move on from our earthly shells? I really couldn't tell you. I don't have the answer. Again, no ones does. And I don't spend too much time dwelling on it because I'd drive myself crazy. There are times though, like today for example, when I allow myself to ponder my very existence. I never wonder, though, about the meaning and purpose of my life. It's as much a mystery to me as anyone else. And again, I may never know the answer. But, I'm okay with that. This is my basic understanding of life and death, as I see it:
In our earthly shells, our physical bodies, our essence, or energy (or soul, if you prefer) is contained within. It is our "job" to nurture this energy and preserve its distinct characteristics, in other words, what makes you YOU. There is positive and negative energy, and whatever you choose to feed into your essence will shape and define the person that you are. However, what you feed into this energy WILL be projected outwardly to the world. Thus, there are negative, or "evil" essences, and there are positive, or "good", essences. But that is not even that simple; for there are still others who struggle with both, and can't really be classified into "good" or "evil". They are just, who they are, and learning as they go along through life. Those unclassifieds, the majority of us, fall into what I call the "purgatory" category - learning lessons from mistakes made, circumstances, or other key points in their personal cycle of life.
In death, our essence leaves our earthly shells. However, the personality or distinctiveness that makes that particular ball of energy our own remains imprinted. It is my belief, at this moment in my life, that until our essence "evolves" in a complete cycle, that is, we've learned all we can learn and have become a "higher being", our essence continues to be reborn, over and over, until that cycle is complete. We shed our dying and dead shells, and move on to another, but our essence remains, intact. Though I always struggled with the idea of past lives, it makes the most sense to me in scientific terms. Not to mention my own personal experiences in this area, but that of which I do not want to mention at this point. The only mystery to me right now is where our essence DOES go once our essence's evolution is complete.
My beliefs on the subject of our physical and "spiritual" evolution brings comfort to me. It helps me to have "faith" in people as a whole that we can learn, we can grow, we can evolve - even the person we believe to have the blackest of hearts. And if we cannot do it in the span of one physical lifetime, there are other lifetimes to give us that opportunity. For me, at least, it fills me with hope. It makes me believe that not one person on this Earth, not one "soul" in the history of time, is beyond redeemable. Labels like "sinner" and "saint" do not matter; it is that we become more fully WHO WE ARE.
AJW 6/28/11
I also have to say that this is a really emotional day for me. Although to be quite honest, I have no clue why. It irritates me to no end when I feel like this; not knowing what it is that bothers me really grates on my last nerve. So if I babble a bit or throughout, that is why. There is a lot in my head at the moment. You know how people do that little dance when they have to pee? Well, instead of my bladder, I need to drain my brain. It's the only way I know how to let it go or feel any relief from it. Except for the alternative of course, and that is SO not happening.
I was in church on Sunday morning, and as you can tell, I didn't go up in a puff of smoke when I entered. All kidding aside, I was there for a memorial mass for my Dad, on the very day of the first anniversary of his death. It continually amazes me that whenever I have been in church over the last 25 or so years, how all the old rituals and prayers come back as if they never even left me, or more so, as if I never left them behind. But I know now that eight years of repetitiveness is the real reason. It's like anything else; once it's been pounded into your head over a period of time, it comes back as naturally as the habit of brushing your teeth.
So, as the mass wore on, and it came time for Holy Communion, my Mom and my sister got up to go and receive the body of Christ. (Which incidentally, I always secretly wondered how someone came to the conclusion that Christ's flesh is a flavorless, styrofoam consistency.) Unbelievably, the first thought that came to my mind as I sat and watched my mother and sister rise from the pew was, "I can't go up there, I'm a sinner." I don't know why that thought came to mind, only that most probably, it was the old Christian rules surfacing. It surprised me though, as I have absolutely no use for religious or spiritual rituals of any kind. I think I've mentioned before that no matter what religion or dogma I have ever studied, the rituals involved ALWAYS made me feel completely ridiculous. But the word "sinner" grated at my brain.
And maybe this is part of a huge web of spiritual struggle within the core of my being. Honestly, I don't like the way it feels. There have been many times in my life that I have struggled with what I have been taught as opposed to what I actually believe. It seemed easier to just push it all out and believe absolutely nothing. It worked for me, for many many years. But, the new life I have been given through recovery, and my vision of the world, my world, around me has given me great pause. The inner struggle is returning and it's not leaving me alone. Not even for a moment. So, to deal with this inner turmoil, I feel it necessary for my own sanity to evaluate what it is I believe, at this point in my life. Good grief, here we go.
I've always believed, whether it was when I was Catholic or when I was an Atheist, very strongly in humanism. I believe in what is tangible to me. I hold no faith in what I cannot see. No, let me correct that, the one thing I do hold faith in is the basic goodness of people and that in some way, shape or form, we are all connected. I just simply cannot force myself into believing in things I absolutely know nothing about, and may never know. Humanism, to me, is about the here and now. It puzzles me that so many spend so much time on the what ifs that they become blinded by all the mysteries, and don't appreciate what is right in front of them. We are here, we are real - no one knows why we ARE here, but that, in and of itself, is the beauty of it. While others obsess on what awaits us when the cycle of life is over, I'm busy enjoying what it is that I have RIGHT NOW. This includes not only those immediately connected to me, those people who I love, but everyone around me. After all, we are connected; we all sprung to life from a single-celled organism. We have evolved as a species, and it is our responsibility to evolve as individuals.
The one thing I do think about when I think about death, is that at our core, we are made of matter and energy. Matter withers and dies eventually, but energy does not. So where does our energy go when we move on from our earthly shells? I really couldn't tell you. I don't have the answer. Again, no ones does. And I don't spend too much time dwelling on it because I'd drive myself crazy. There are times though, like today for example, when I allow myself to ponder my very existence. I never wonder, though, about the meaning and purpose of my life. It's as much a mystery to me as anyone else. And again, I may never know the answer. But, I'm okay with that. This is my basic understanding of life and death, as I see it:
In our earthly shells, our physical bodies, our essence, or energy (or soul, if you prefer) is contained within. It is our "job" to nurture this energy and preserve its distinct characteristics, in other words, what makes you YOU. There is positive and negative energy, and whatever you choose to feed into your essence will shape and define the person that you are. However, what you feed into this energy WILL be projected outwardly to the world. Thus, there are negative, or "evil" essences, and there are positive, or "good", essences. But that is not even that simple; for there are still others who struggle with both, and can't really be classified into "good" or "evil". They are just, who they are, and learning as they go along through life. Those unclassifieds, the majority of us, fall into what I call the "purgatory" category - learning lessons from mistakes made, circumstances, or other key points in their personal cycle of life.
In death, our essence leaves our earthly shells. However, the personality or distinctiveness that makes that particular ball of energy our own remains imprinted. It is my belief, at this moment in my life, that until our essence "evolves" in a complete cycle, that is, we've learned all we can learn and have become a "higher being", our essence continues to be reborn, over and over, until that cycle is complete. We shed our dying and dead shells, and move on to another, but our essence remains, intact. Though I always struggled with the idea of past lives, it makes the most sense to me in scientific terms. Not to mention my own personal experiences in this area, but that of which I do not want to mention at this point. The only mystery to me right now is where our essence DOES go once our essence's evolution is complete.
My beliefs on the subject of our physical and "spiritual" evolution brings comfort to me. It helps me to have "faith" in people as a whole that we can learn, we can grow, we can evolve - even the person we believe to have the blackest of hearts. And if we cannot do it in the span of one physical lifetime, there are other lifetimes to give us that opportunity. For me, at least, it fills me with hope. It makes me believe that not one person on this Earth, not one "soul" in the history of time, is beyond redeemable. Labels like "sinner" and "saint" do not matter; it is that we become more fully WHO WE ARE.
AJW 6/28/11
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
The Courage of Conviction
Over the weekend, I watched a program on the History Channel about the rise and fall of Hitler and The Third Reich. It really got me thinking about injustice and courage. At the end of the programming, they detailed the accounts of Germans returning to their country in ruins. They became impoverished and for the most part, homeless. Germany, especially Berlin, was reduced to ashes and rubble. For three years, they lived on near-starvation conditions. In fact, Germany's restoration wasn't even completed until the 1980's. But what struck me was my reaction to it. Part of me did feel bad for the Germans, but a bigger part of me did not.
I found myself wondering how a nation could let a man as twisted as Adolf Hitler come to power. Yes, I know these were different times, and I also understand that beliefs were also very different. I also realize that Hitler lied and fooled an entire country. What I don't understand is why, when he began his incessant ramblings about "the Jewish problem" and creating the "Master Race", did bells not go off in these people's minds? I know it did for some, for a lot actually, according to many written accounts. There was even a plot to assassinate Hitler, though it failed. But it came far too late, even if it had been successful. I also know that Hitler was greatly feared because he ruled by fear. I get it; he was a tyrant, a dictator, a very sick individual. And when you have the proverbial gun (or a real one) pointed at your head, it's not very difficult to buckle under the pressure. I get that too.
What has been gnawing at me is the lack of courage to stand up for the, what became pretty obvious to me, gross injustice that inevitably played out. Had his closest officers (although many were as sick and idealistic as Hitler) stood up and spoke out, along with those who could see what was happening, would he have even been allowed to come to power? I wonder why when those closest to Hitler knew what his plans were, and what was going on, they lacked the courage to stand against it. But I think I know why. It comes back to fear. How true is it that the vast majority would let others perish to save their own asses? I probably will get a lot of shit for that statement, but just think about it for a moment. Would you submit to such evils out of fear, knowing that someone else would die in your place? And how the Jews suffered; we all know the stories of experimentation, starvation, torture, and unmerciless death. Only to have their lifeless bodies be herded into trenches like garbage. I don't think anyone has suffered more in history than they did. I can't even imagine what it must have been like. I don't want to. So how can I be sympathetic toward a people who turned a blind eye out of fear and reprisal? Are humans as a whole not just as responsible for injustice and cruelty as the person or persons exacting it if we stand by and do nothing?
So it got me to thinking about my own courage and my own fears. I know at the very core of my being, I would die for those I loved. I would jump in front of a bullet aimed toward my son. I would fight til the death to protect my family, anyone in my family...of that, I'm sure. But how many of us, MYSELF INCLUDED, would do it for a stranger? If you were walking down the street and a thug was mugging and stabbing someone on the sidewalk, would you just stand there terrified and immobile? Or would you try to help the victim, regardless of the obvious danger? I honestly couldn't tell you if I could or would, and I really hope I am never in that situation. But I wonder how many of us would act, for that or any other act of cruelty or injustice. How many times have you seen a video on the Internet of beatings, stabbings, or shootings and people just walk on by? And the person behind the lens - shouldn't they at least be dialing 9-1-1, if nothing else?? And I guess what bothers me most of all, is that people are constantly yammering about what is wrong with this world - the inequalities, the injustices, and the whatever-elses, but how many of those loud booming voices actually have the courage of their convictions? I'm not saying that there is no one. There are those that are completely selfless, and I applaud them.
The bottom line is that we are all family, we are all connected. As a species, as humans, as a people. Fear breeds the world's cruelties and injustices. I also believe that fear in our own personal lives breeds selfishness. I'm guilty of it as much as the next person. There are fears that I have that have caused chaos in my own life that, had I just spoken out about them, or against them, I would not have ended up in the predicaments that I did. And I would not have hurt others in the process just to "save my own ass". I feel like, for me, living and roaming about the world with the attitude that others are just as significant as I am can bring about a profound change. Not just in myself, but those around me, and those that I come in contact with every day. That fighting for my own life and my own rights means fighting for yours too. No matter that I do not know who you are; you are me, and I am you.
AJW 6/22/11
I found myself wondering how a nation could let a man as twisted as Adolf Hitler come to power. Yes, I know these were different times, and I also understand that beliefs were also very different. I also realize that Hitler lied and fooled an entire country. What I don't understand is why, when he began his incessant ramblings about "the Jewish problem" and creating the "Master Race", did bells not go off in these people's minds? I know it did for some, for a lot actually, according to many written accounts. There was even a plot to assassinate Hitler, though it failed. But it came far too late, even if it had been successful. I also know that Hitler was greatly feared because he ruled by fear. I get it; he was a tyrant, a dictator, a very sick individual. And when you have the proverbial gun (or a real one) pointed at your head, it's not very difficult to buckle under the pressure. I get that too.
What has been gnawing at me is the lack of courage to stand up for the, what became pretty obvious to me, gross injustice that inevitably played out. Had his closest officers (although many were as sick and idealistic as Hitler) stood up and spoke out, along with those who could see what was happening, would he have even been allowed to come to power? I wonder why when those closest to Hitler knew what his plans were, and what was going on, they lacked the courage to stand against it. But I think I know why. It comes back to fear. How true is it that the vast majority would let others perish to save their own asses? I probably will get a lot of shit for that statement, but just think about it for a moment. Would you submit to such evils out of fear, knowing that someone else would die in your place? And how the Jews suffered; we all know the stories of experimentation, starvation, torture, and unmerciless death. Only to have their lifeless bodies be herded into trenches like garbage. I don't think anyone has suffered more in history than they did. I can't even imagine what it must have been like. I don't want to. So how can I be sympathetic toward a people who turned a blind eye out of fear and reprisal? Are humans as a whole not just as responsible for injustice and cruelty as the person or persons exacting it if we stand by and do nothing?
So it got me to thinking about my own courage and my own fears. I know at the very core of my being, I would die for those I loved. I would jump in front of a bullet aimed toward my son. I would fight til the death to protect my family, anyone in my family...of that, I'm sure. But how many of us, MYSELF INCLUDED, would do it for a stranger? If you were walking down the street and a thug was mugging and stabbing someone on the sidewalk, would you just stand there terrified and immobile? Or would you try to help the victim, regardless of the obvious danger? I honestly couldn't tell you if I could or would, and I really hope I am never in that situation. But I wonder how many of us would act, for that or any other act of cruelty or injustice. How many times have you seen a video on the Internet of beatings, stabbings, or shootings and people just walk on by? And the person behind the lens - shouldn't they at least be dialing 9-1-1, if nothing else?? And I guess what bothers me most of all, is that people are constantly yammering about what is wrong with this world - the inequalities, the injustices, and the whatever-elses, but how many of those loud booming voices actually have the courage of their convictions? I'm not saying that there is no one. There are those that are completely selfless, and I applaud them.
The bottom line is that we are all family, we are all connected. As a species, as humans, as a people. Fear breeds the world's cruelties and injustices. I also believe that fear in our own personal lives breeds selfishness. I'm guilty of it as much as the next person. There are fears that I have that have caused chaos in my own life that, had I just spoken out about them, or against them, I would not have ended up in the predicaments that I did. And I would not have hurt others in the process just to "save my own ass". I feel like, for me, living and roaming about the world with the attitude that others are just as significant as I am can bring about a profound change. Not just in myself, but those around me, and those that I come in contact with every day. That fighting for my own life and my own rights means fighting for yours too. No matter that I do not know who you are; you are me, and I am you.
AJW 6/22/11
Tearing Down the Sanctuary Walls
It occurred to me the other day that I am all too comfortable being alone. Obviously, I'm not really alone; I have my family, my friends. But when I go through issues, as we all so often do, I draw back from the world and everything in it. I know that's not good. But I'm working to change that. For me, being and/or feeling alone has both it's drawbacks and it's advantages.
The advantage of being alone, in the physical sense, is that, like it or not, you're forced to learn to depend on yourself and move through the world on your own two feet. Before my husband, I learned through being by myself most of the time that I needn't depend on other people to define who I am. Having someone by my side was just a bonus, and if and when it did happen, it would be a genuine companionship - not one based out of need, in any form. Being independent definitely gave me a strong sense of self and a strength I didn't always realize that I had. Discovering who I really am has been a long, slow process though, marked by periods of self-medication. In those times I lose a part of myself and even after regaining clarity, I always need to rediscover it again. Despite the obvious drawbacks of addiction, one thing is true about coming out of the other side of it: I keep learning something new about myself.
Being alone has given me time to think, to realize, to discover, and above all, to learn who I am and what makes me tick. And more importantly, to look at everything in life, in my life, as a lesson, and to change those things which would block my path to real, personal growth. Not one person on this Earth can do that for me; I have to learn and change that for myself.
As for its disadvantages, well, the dark part of me has in some way always felt all alone in this world. I know now that's not true, but growing up I felt isolated despite those that were around me. I explained this before in a previous blog. So, when something felt uncomfortable, negative, or there were things I just had a hard time dealing with, I withdrew from the world and into my own. I know it's not a good thing, and my own little universe can be a very dark and scary place. The labyrinth in my head has way too many dark corners to hide in. I've gotten so used to hiding there over the years that it is a natural and automatic reaction to recede within, curl up in the fetal position, and ride the storm out where it's safe.
So for the last three weeks, between bad news, Father's Day, and the one year anniversary of my Dad's passing approaching, I've obviously been a bit down. I felt myself withdrawing - hanging back from everyone to deal with things in my own way, in my own mind. The key thing is though, I realized it. I never have before. I noticed that my phone, which my face is usually buried in to text all day, was placed wherever in my house and I didn't really care if it rang and I didn't hear it. I noticed that going anywhere was a task. I didn't feel like it. I'd have to force myself to be around people, and then when I was, I was already thinking about when I could return home, and retreat to the dark sanctuary in my head. And don't ask me what's wrong, because I am never going to tell you. Maybe a snippet or two, but not the whole thing. I can't.
But, I CAN. And I have, at least with my husband. Even if I only spill my guts to one person, it keeps it from festering in the Sanctuary. It is difficult as hell but I do it because I HAVE to. I'm not used to pouring out my feelings. At least not the negative ones. It helped, and I'm slowly coming around. To the rest of the world, I'm still hiding behind my mask of Humor, but at least at home, I know it's okay to be myself. I know it's okay to be sad. I know I don't have to put my happy face on all the time. And I know that in my home, I am loved for who I am regardless of how I am feeling. It is this last epiphany that drives me to keep going and to stand strong no matter what gets thrown my way, or in the way of the people I love the most. Growth, it seems, is not beyond me. And I'm so enjoying it.
~AJW 6/22/11~
The advantage of being alone, in the physical sense, is that, like it or not, you're forced to learn to depend on yourself and move through the world on your own two feet. Before my husband, I learned through being by myself most of the time that I needn't depend on other people to define who I am. Having someone by my side was just a bonus, and if and when it did happen, it would be a genuine companionship - not one based out of need, in any form. Being independent definitely gave me a strong sense of self and a strength I didn't always realize that I had. Discovering who I really am has been a long, slow process though, marked by periods of self-medication. In those times I lose a part of myself and even after regaining clarity, I always need to rediscover it again. Despite the obvious drawbacks of addiction, one thing is true about coming out of the other side of it: I keep learning something new about myself.
Being alone has given me time to think, to realize, to discover, and above all, to learn who I am and what makes me tick. And more importantly, to look at everything in life, in my life, as a lesson, and to change those things which would block my path to real, personal growth. Not one person on this Earth can do that for me; I have to learn and change that for myself.
As for its disadvantages, well, the dark part of me has in some way always felt all alone in this world. I know now that's not true, but growing up I felt isolated despite those that were around me. I explained this before in a previous blog. So, when something felt uncomfortable, negative, or there were things I just had a hard time dealing with, I withdrew from the world and into my own. I know it's not a good thing, and my own little universe can be a very dark and scary place. The labyrinth in my head has way too many dark corners to hide in. I've gotten so used to hiding there over the years that it is a natural and automatic reaction to recede within, curl up in the fetal position, and ride the storm out where it's safe.
So for the last three weeks, between bad news, Father's Day, and the one year anniversary of my Dad's passing approaching, I've obviously been a bit down. I felt myself withdrawing - hanging back from everyone to deal with things in my own way, in my own mind. The key thing is though, I realized it. I never have before. I noticed that my phone, which my face is usually buried in to text all day, was placed wherever in my house and I didn't really care if it rang and I didn't hear it. I noticed that going anywhere was a task. I didn't feel like it. I'd have to force myself to be around people, and then when I was, I was already thinking about when I could return home, and retreat to the dark sanctuary in my head. And don't ask me what's wrong, because I am never going to tell you. Maybe a snippet or two, but not the whole thing. I can't.
But, I CAN. And I have, at least with my husband. Even if I only spill my guts to one person, it keeps it from festering in the Sanctuary. It is difficult as hell but I do it because I HAVE to. I'm not used to pouring out my feelings. At least not the negative ones. It helped, and I'm slowly coming around. To the rest of the world, I'm still hiding behind my mask of Humor, but at least at home, I know it's okay to be myself. I know it's okay to be sad. I know I don't have to put my happy face on all the time. And I know that in my home, I am loved for who I am regardless of how I am feeling. It is this last epiphany that drives me to keep going and to stand strong no matter what gets thrown my way, or in the way of the people I love the most. Growth, it seems, is not beyond me. And I'm so enjoying it.
~AJW 6/22/11~
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
An Open Letter To My Dad
As Father's Day approaches, my first without my Dad, I've been thinking a lot about all the things left unsaid between us. I meant to write him a letter, and put it in his casket, but because I was relapsed at the time, I didn't do it. I feel ashamed that it happened, especially during that time, but in retrospect, I would rather write that letter to him now, while my head and thoughts are clear.
Before I do though, I think it is important to note that what I am about to say should have been said to my Dad long ago. I never had the courage to tell him how I felt. I struggle with that in all of my relationships. I wish I had just sat down and had a long heart to heart with him about our relationship. We have had mini conversations about it, and particularly about my struggles with addiction, but what I always really wanted to truly tell him, I couldn't. I learned a huge lesson from this. As painful as it might have been to say what was in my heart, it would have been the right thing to do. Now he is gone and all I can do is write this letter. Never wait to tell someone how you feel, they may be gone tomorrow.
Dear Dad,
It is coming up on one year since you left us, and our first Father's Day without you. I wish I had had the courage to tell you all that I'm about to say while you were here. I'm sorry that I couldn't. I hope that when I was holding your hand and you drew your last breath, you felt and heard what I was saying to you in my heart. It silently spoke, "I love you, Dad, and I always have."
For many, many years, our relationship was rocky at best. I thought you hated me, honestly. I resented you for your brutal honesty, your distance from me, your lack of emotional attachment, and never hugging me or telling me you loved me. It ate at me for so long. But as I look back, I think I know why you were so hard on me. It really WAS because you loved me. You wanted better for me and whether I believed it at the time or not, I am more like you than I ever used to care to admit. You saw yourself in me, and tried to shield and protect me from a very scary world. You were trying to teach me the hard lessons you learned along the way, but I wasn't listening.
I think about what your home life must have been like; growing up with Grandma. May she rest in peace, and we loved her, but she was so miserable in life. I know when I used to visit her, I'd always leave feeling drained and moody. Grandma had that way of affecting the best of moods. She was as emotionally detached as anyone can get, which helps explain how that attribute was passed to you. I understand that now.
I don't want to concentrate on the negative though. I've gotten past all that long ago. What I want to do now is tell you what you meant to me and what you taught me, as your daughter, as a woman. You taught me that family always comes first, no matter what - loyalty to your spouse and your children. Blood runs far thicker than water, and no matter what trials and tribulations our family went through, we stuck together.
You taught me patriotism and love of country. What more can I say about that? The statement is obvious. You served your homeland, and had I been able to, I would have too. From this you also passed on to me your passion for aviation. I can't look at a jet without thinking of you.
You taught me that love not need be expressed through words. Although it is nice to hear "I love you", actions far exceed the spoken word. I saw it in your eyes at my wedding, and felt it when we had our father/daughter dance. In case you didn't know it, you really were, and still are, The Wind Beneath My Wings. I saw it in your eyes again when Brendan was born. The pride and love in your eyes filled my heart and soul. And always the way you would look at him, or Jake, or Megan with a quiet smile on your lips, and tears in your eyes. I don't know if anyone else noticed it, but I did.
Lastly, you taught me forgiveness. For all of my own mistakes, trials and tribulations, in the end, you forgave me. I will forever be grateful that in the last 10 years of your life, we became closer than we ever had before. You were angry with me at first, and rightfully so, but the few hearts to hearts we did have will forever be burned in my memory. I will never forget Dad. I will never forget that for all the years of pain, yours and mine, that through it all, you loved me no matter what. And whether you knew it or not, and I think you did, I never once stopped loving you. You were and still are my biggest hero. You passed on to me your humor, your love of life, and your strength. I cherish those attributes and thank you for giving them to me.
So, as Father's Day approaches and your one year anniversary, please know that you are missed terribly. My comfort, our comfort, though, is knowing you are still with us, watching and taking care of us. You may be gone physically but just like in life, you never left us. Loyalty and Love.
Love and miss you always,
Ali
Before I do though, I think it is important to note that what I am about to say should have been said to my Dad long ago. I never had the courage to tell him how I felt. I struggle with that in all of my relationships. I wish I had just sat down and had a long heart to heart with him about our relationship. We have had mini conversations about it, and particularly about my struggles with addiction, but what I always really wanted to truly tell him, I couldn't. I learned a huge lesson from this. As painful as it might have been to say what was in my heart, it would have been the right thing to do. Now he is gone and all I can do is write this letter. Never wait to tell someone how you feel, they may be gone tomorrow.
Dear Dad,
It is coming up on one year since you left us, and our first Father's Day without you. I wish I had had the courage to tell you all that I'm about to say while you were here. I'm sorry that I couldn't. I hope that when I was holding your hand and you drew your last breath, you felt and heard what I was saying to you in my heart. It silently spoke, "I love you, Dad, and I always have."
For many, many years, our relationship was rocky at best. I thought you hated me, honestly. I resented you for your brutal honesty, your distance from me, your lack of emotional attachment, and never hugging me or telling me you loved me. It ate at me for so long. But as I look back, I think I know why you were so hard on me. It really WAS because you loved me. You wanted better for me and whether I believed it at the time or not, I am more like you than I ever used to care to admit. You saw yourself in me, and tried to shield and protect me from a very scary world. You were trying to teach me the hard lessons you learned along the way, but I wasn't listening.
I think about what your home life must have been like; growing up with Grandma. May she rest in peace, and we loved her, but she was so miserable in life. I know when I used to visit her, I'd always leave feeling drained and moody. Grandma had that way of affecting the best of moods. She was as emotionally detached as anyone can get, which helps explain how that attribute was passed to you. I understand that now.
I don't want to concentrate on the negative though. I've gotten past all that long ago. What I want to do now is tell you what you meant to me and what you taught me, as your daughter, as a woman. You taught me that family always comes first, no matter what - loyalty to your spouse and your children. Blood runs far thicker than water, and no matter what trials and tribulations our family went through, we stuck together.
You taught me patriotism and love of country. What more can I say about that? The statement is obvious. You served your homeland, and had I been able to, I would have too. From this you also passed on to me your passion for aviation. I can't look at a jet without thinking of you.
You taught me that love not need be expressed through words. Although it is nice to hear "I love you", actions far exceed the spoken word. I saw it in your eyes at my wedding, and felt it when we had our father/daughter dance. In case you didn't know it, you really were, and still are, The Wind Beneath My Wings. I saw it in your eyes again when Brendan was born. The pride and love in your eyes filled my heart and soul. And always the way you would look at him, or Jake, or Megan with a quiet smile on your lips, and tears in your eyes. I don't know if anyone else noticed it, but I did.
Lastly, you taught me forgiveness. For all of my own mistakes, trials and tribulations, in the end, you forgave me. I will forever be grateful that in the last 10 years of your life, we became closer than we ever had before. You were angry with me at first, and rightfully so, but the few hearts to hearts we did have will forever be burned in my memory. I will never forget Dad. I will never forget that for all the years of pain, yours and mine, that through it all, you loved me no matter what. And whether you knew it or not, and I think you did, I never once stopped loving you. You were and still are my biggest hero. You passed on to me your humor, your love of life, and your strength. I cherish those attributes and thank you for giving them to me.
So, as Father's Day approaches and your one year anniversary, please know that you are missed terribly. My comfort, our comfort, though, is knowing you are still with us, watching and taking care of us. You may be gone physically but just like in life, you never left us. Loyalty and Love.
Love and miss you always,
Ali
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