on terrorism

while i have lived through a great deal of personal tragedy and loss, i believe the saddest moment of my life was 9-11.  in one fell swoop, i lost not only a profound measure of my remaining sense of personal safety, but the entire society and range of values i'd been raised to believe in; freedom, the protection of the bill of rights, and any remaining social cohesion that survived the cold war, and eventually, the good will of the entire world.

i'm not good with people.  well, i am, but, only because i hide my true inner nature and become a channel for a love that is greater than myself.  people don't understand me, and people fear what they don't understand, and what they fear they judge and attack.  i am too vulnerable, too honest, too introverted, and too able to accept paradox.  i am adamant about my values, yet unwilling to impose them on anyone else (or have them imposed on me).  therefore i find myself constantly on the fringes of society and my own person is divided.  there is the part of me that craves acceptance, the part of me that accepts i will never get it.  so when i'm around people, rather than display any part of my private personhood, i display that part of me that meets on common ground with the collective and offer as much love and attention as i can.  the love and attention is real and comes from a deep place.  however, i am unable to reveal my vulnerabilities, or relax and "be myself" (because inevitably i say or do something that triggers an attack, and i simply do not know how to defend myself in a socially appropriate manner).  as a result being around people is exhausting.  rewarding on some levels, but exhausting.   let's be clear, i am not blaming anyone but myself.  i see what other people have, i just accept i am structured differently.  i am damaged goods.

why am i saying i'm not good with - well, around - other people, why does that matter?  because their good will still matters to me.  while i am willing and to some extent able to accept that i myself do not qualify for social acceptance, i still care about how people get along in the world around me and how i effect them, how we effect each other.  so the part of human nature that most outrages me, even as i "get" it (i see it within myself), is that part which is judgmental, sadistic, power-hungry.  i see how this part of our nature causes injury and pain to the innocent (and yes, i see it because i've been through it).  i see how we fail in our responsibility - our response ability - to each other.  we fail at the level of simple compassion every single day.  no, we will never be perfect at it, i'm not expecting that.  but we are killing ourselves and each other, particularly by not recognizing our innate connection to everyone all the time.  noone is less than or more than anyone else, no matter how far outside the grace of a god or society they fall.  everyone is complex.  no excuses.  just a significant part of what i see as our reality which i also see as a major cause of human suffering, which pains me greatly.

the bill of rights was a crucial social contract which created an environment in which such compassion could exist.  a contract which has been habitually broken since it's conception, but it still existed.  it was still important to us as american citizens.  it was still the primary redeeming facet of this capitalist society, i believe at core and also in the social system which is our international world.  the difference is today it is not being broken, it is being thrown out.  the country i grew up in is gone.  hopefully not irrevocably, but gone.

and really though i do digress, this last point is crucially important to this post.

the real tragedy of 9-11 was its success.  it has destroyed the social fabric of our society with extraordinary success.

i remember the morning after 9-11 i called my mother.  my mother is not someone i ordinary seek out for emotional comfort.  i called her to express my fear and uncertainty.  she told me about the attack on pearl harbor and what it was like for her as a young woman to experience that.  the call was very grounding for me.  we'd been through this as a nation before.  we would survive.

it's also a striking memory for me that i spent hours watching a president i detested talk about us as a people and drew comfort there as well.

so where am i going now?  yes, i believe 9-11 is the greatest tragedy of modern america.  i believe the social consequences we are experiencing are the beginning of a terrible, tragic, self-destructive response for which we will experience a fallout for many decades to come.

i believe freedom is something we have to fight for, something we have to take great risks to maintain.

i believe in order not to give up on the life blood of liberty, we have to maintain hope in the face of great evil.  i don't mean "evil-doers" in the sense that it was bandied about to foster this horrible political agenda of modern times.  i mean the great evil inside each of us.

i believe we have to face the future with a sense of determination and hope and not lose our sense of the value of personal liberty and compassion even in the face of suffocating darkness.

it's hang on to that tiny raft in the middle of the worst storm on the darkest night, or perish, individually and as a society.

keep the faith alive, even when doubt overwhelms us.  please.  it takes great courage and strength.  i know.  i also know it's possible for each and every one of us.  find the compassion and just do it.

if i can keep putting one foot in front of the other in the face of the storms of my life, if i can find the stamina to keep going, every one of us can do better.  the human capacity to survive and attempt to thrive in the face of terrible adversity is truly one of our most remarkable traits.

take it a day at a time.  never forget.  forgive, if you can, but never forget.  and most importantly never forget what's truly important.  i can't dictate what that is for you, but i know what it is for me.  read the first chapter of "beyond good and evil."

persist and pass it on.  whatever dark days may lay ahead, if we don't give up, there is hope.  reflect on our past and current actions and give our youngsters courage and vision.  the cold war robbed us of true vision in favor of fear of the future and resulting self-indulgence.  look at history; look at what we've already overcome.  it's so important to look at what true heroism involves and aspire to at least some of it.

be a hero for our future.  persist, and pass it on.

why i root for losing teams

the new england patriots.  apparently, you either love them or you hate them.

i was born on the south shore of massachusetts in 1965.  although i spent far more of the following years in florida, and no new england team ever excelled in my lifetime before, say, 2000, and in spite of the fact that i never followed any sport (let alone played any), i was always a diehard new england fan.  

being a new england fan for thirty years was not a thrilling experience.  but there was something concrete about the red sox and the pats (yes, i know about the celtics and the bruins) that endured in my heart.  ten years in gainesville, florida, did not make me a gator fan, but i never gave up on my favorite professional teams.

i moved to metrowest boston in 2000, met a guy, started watching football in 2001.  i confess he made it fun.  he had no problem explaining everything that happened on the field, why it happened, and most vociferously, what the coach should have done differently.  i found that learning the inside of the game made the sports more fun.  especially football.  and then something interesting happened. 

now, if you follow football and have even a vague awareness of the eastern seaboard, you probably know the basic facts of the 2001-2002 season in new england.  bledsoe was injured and brady, an untried quarterback, took the field.

i told everyone i knew we were going to the superbowl, and of course everyone laughed.

i pity them.  not because we won.  winning was exciting, don't get me wrong.  just how exciting is the core of this post.  i pity them because they will never know the electrifying experience of watching a truly shitty team come together and play like champions.  it was watching the patriots in 2001 i learned about mental toughness.

every single game, the announcers joked about what a shit team the patriots were.  every single game, the odds were astronomically stacked against my home team.

every single game (well, almost) the patriots pulled a dramatic comeback, often in the 4th quarter.

every single game, i knew deep in my heart something strange and magical was happening on the field at foxborough and abroad.  i knew they would win.  i knew they were going all the way.

what was really funny is anyone with eyes who watched them play could have seen it.  but these pros, these reporters and announcers and statisticians and bookies, were blinded by some mysterious prejudice i still don't understand.  it was as if the entire country simply willed the patriots to suck.  moreover, they couldn't stand it when they didn't.  they were viciously critical.  and the refs - lord, don't start me on the refs.  

i still don't know shit about football, although i do know more.  it's still as much as i can do to follow the ball.  i can't predict plays.  at least i know, sort of, what's happening on the field and sometimes, why.  i can even beg the question of certain strategies.

what i really don't have are the words to describe what it's like to watch your home team shake defeat out of their teeth like a bulldog throwing a chihuahua.  what i can't possibly convey to you is what it's like to watch your home team while the announcers universally revile them, charge through blinding snow on a muddy, icy field and tear victory out of the ass of the opposing team in the last two minutes of the game by sheer guts and persistence.  theirs was a game of nothing-to-lose.  they fucked up a lot, but they left every dram of spirit and strength on the field.  and for every fuck up, they scored.  for every team weakness - and there was much we lacked in depth - the patriots compensated in sheer gumption and tenacity.  simply put, they never gave up.

when they got to the playoffs, people started paying attention.  but i still got a lot of laughs when i said we were going to the superbowl.  i thought to myself, you obviously haven't been watching them play all season.  and why would they?  they were fans of another team.  really, though, the announcers should have known.

when they went into overtime in 2002, i went outside to call a family member.  she said she'd turn the set off.  she couldn't watch.  she was afraid she would jinx it.  i went inside and watched the most deliriously thrilling winning field goal in history.

what i learned that year is that winning is about never giving up.  sure, it sounds pat.  but considering the shitstorm that has been 48 years of my life, i still see Vinitieri on the field in my minds eye with a certain glow surrounding him.  i still see that ball soaring between the posts and remember as if it were before me now, the excitement, the disbelief, the happiness, the hope that filled my heart and soul.  i had seen it, and it had been done.  if nothing as good ever happens in my life again - and it may not - and i die with my last thought that football flying through the air, i will consider it a gift.

getting started

nothing is more terrifying than the cursor blinking on a blank page.  if i look at it long enough i know i will never start writing.  seems like that's a lot what life is like too.  if you look at it long enough, you will never start anything.

i am addicted to the long shot i think.  i don't go to vegas, don't bet on the horses, don't "waste" my money on the lotto.  but i'm sitting here in a tiny (<3000 people) town in the mountains in arizona, in a one room apartment i can barely afford, i'm 48 years old, i'm crazy, i'm sick, and i've got a boyfriend who is a charming guy but really feels more like my kid (what can i say - it was fun dating a younger guy for the first few weeks).  i know i fucked up.  every choice i've made has been reckless and none of them have paid off.  yet i can't seem to stop.

on the other hand, i can't help but keep going, even though i don't want to.

i'm really stumped.

some other post i'll write about how many ways i'm crazy and how many ways my body is fried.  after 21 years of clean living, i have to say i'm disappointed.  for a long time i was convinced i was doing everything right, and when i realized i was miserable, i ripped the underpinning out from every single part of my life - somewhat unintentionally, all at once.  and that didn't work either.  i suppose another way of saying i'm addicted to long shots is to say i'm a creature of extremes.  whichever way i go, i'm all in.

and i'm in so much pain.

i dedicated this blog to my cat.  she died in my arms in a small motel in new york state after suffering quite terribly for about 24 hours.  i had just started a move.  i had an old pick-up stacked full of my belongings, and just enough cash to get west.  i could not afford a vet.  i could not help her.  i still cry every time i think about her because i miss her so much.  it was the last big loss (not the last loss, just the last most painful one) at the end of a long string of horrible losses - my marriage, my family, my career aspirations, my home, the shreds of my self-respect - in the prior year.  somehow she is the hardest one to let go.  i suppose if i'd ever had kids, i wouldn't be so attached to my pets, but there's a good reason i don't have kids.  fuck it, why do i feel like i have to justify my extreme love of animals to anyone, let alone to you?  if you don't get it, fuck you.  if you do, i don't have to explain.

boyfriends tend to think i'm antisocial.  i'm really not.  i don't like people much, but i love all of them.  i love people so much i can't stand them.  being around people is like being in big, sweaty, hair suit all of the time.  it's not their fault.  it's me.  i totally understand that.  but being 48 and having tried to fake it 'til i make it my entire life, after nearly two decades of therapy and investing trust and love with at least two long-term therapists, i've accepted that's just how i'm built.  the older i get, the more it takes out of me to be in any social situation.  the thing is it's BECAUSE i care, not because i don't.

animals, on the other hand, don't seem to have that effect on me.  when i spend time with animals, i feel good. i feel energized.  i feel hopeful.  i feel calm.  i feel loved and loving.  i feel brave.  i am everything i want to be.

people judge.  animals don't.

if it was you, where would you spend your time?