Tuesday, June 28, 2016

experience

How we interpret an experience is unique to our experience. Take for example the ocean...most people will tell you they love the ocean because it's nothing but water as far as you can see, white sand everywhere, and the crashing of the surf. My mother will tell you that she hates the ocean because it is...nothing but water as far as you can see, white sand everywhere, and the crashing of the surf. The experience is the same, but how it's experienced is quite different.

Turn on the news, it's easy to see how there are many experiences of events in the world. Something I am curious about is how do we, as the human race, create a more congruent sense of our experience? How do we develop empathy, and compassion as a race? There is way too much anger, hate, fear, prejudice, violence, and selfishness going on in this world.

I am a firm believer that small acts of compassion can change the world. If each of us makes someone else's life just a little bit better, that small act of kindness can travel the world. A smile, a kind word, a pay-it-forward at the drive through...it all adds up. We can do this. We can just as easily send out more negativity, but I think there is plenty of that. We can pray, or meditate, or ponder peace; but nothing is going to change until we engage in some action steps.Six degrees of separation...that is how small this big world is...six degrees of separation...we CAN change someone's experience for the better.  Come on people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together, try and love one another right now.

Saturday, June 25, 2016

We can do better

Today was a pretty decent day...I'm winding up my internships and semester, my wife arrived today...haven't seen her in over 4 weeks. I am, however; physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted...and I'm just kinda burned out. Between the world at large, and keeping up with internship and school...it's been a rough several weeks.

In addition to all the usual stressors, the friend I'm staying with discussed going to a friends high school reunion in order to "support" them. This friend is a part of the LGBT community, and my little 5' 2" friend thought that she could accompany her friend as a "protector", even though she might be mistaken as a "partner" as they headed to the backwoods of the US.  My reaction was to get angry with her and tell her that she couldn't go, as if I could make her do anything (she's old enough to be my mother, and even more stubborn than I am). Once I calmed myself down, and thought about what my fears were, I was able to share them with her...and I was also punched in the gut by the truth of what it is that we (LGBT) have to deal with every day. And it isn't something that is completely unique to us, people of color deal with the same types of crap...

My fear for her was that as she traveled with her friend and was assumed to be a sexual partner, and not just a friend, that she would become a target. As LGBT folk, we have dealt with rejection, discrimination, threats of violence, and sometimes actual violence, which has helped us develop a radar. We know when we have to get leave a place, or not hold hand; stand to close; or touch our partner, or not speak too loud. We know when we need to posture, or when to make ourselves small...it's a radar that my friend doesn't have. I also didn't want her to have to have the experience of some jack-ass jumping in front of her and grabbing his crotch, leering, yelling at her that he was going to show her what a "real man" was like. (Sadly, this latter is an experience that most women in some fashion have experienced...it's just been my experience that when I'm recognized as a lesbian, that there is much more...violence/anger behind it) I don't want anyone to have that experience, especially not anyone I love. But the truth is that most of my Family has at some period experienced that dangers of being who we are. And it made me damn sad to realize that it's so "normal" for us all, that I didn't even realize it was there until I felt I had to protect my friend from it.

I've said it previously, I'll say it again: things are better. Things are a helluva lot better. But Orlando was a reminder that we still aren't safe. The prayers for our deaths by "god fearing christians" let us know that we're not safe. The continued violence that never makes the news because it was one of us...it tells us that we are not important enough to be protected. When people can openly discriminate against a group, or talk about our inherent sin/evil/general awfulness...it sends a message to the folks who maybe aren't operating with all of their faculties that we are less than human, that it is okay to hurt us (they will be supported and applauded for doing so), that we deserve to be hurt/killed/punished, and we become societies scapegoats.

In 2008 I did a presentation on the issues that the LGBT community faces. Here's one little section of stats:

      Gay & Bi Men report adulthood sexual assault at rate of 11.6% & 13.2%, as compared Straight Men at 1.6%


      Lesbian & Bi Women report adulthood sexual assault rates of 15.5% & 17%, as compared to 7.5% of Straight Women

The kicker...it's not just the women who are being assaulted by straight men, it's the gay men who are being assaulted primarily by "straight" men. Wrap your head around that. Now wrap your head around how it is as a society we condone, or at the very least "look away from" violence, or discrimination against any group whether it's women, homeless, mentally ill, Native American, LGBT...if we don't feel just as horrified about the ill treatment of any of those groups as we do a rich movie star we've never met, or a white senator, a businessman, or whoever...what does that say about us a humans? I don't know, but I know we can do better. May I be the Light...

Friday, June 24, 2016

Honoring our Truth

I was talking with one of my Sisters in the Revolution today about this weird phenomenon where when we are abused/assaulted we are told these strange, dismissive things by society, our family, our peers, our perps that make us doubt our experience, and our feelings  Strange things like "it wasn't that bad", "nothing REALLY happened", "you're crazy/wrong/bad", "you're over-reacting", "you asked for it by (fill in the blank with something stupid)"...and so on...we all have that phrase we've heard that set us off kilter, when we are already thrown off course by what has happened... And we are silenced...we are silenced by these messages that tell us that some how WE got the experience wrong.

We are further silenced by the impending shame that comes from all victim-blaming messages that we are gifted from Rape Culture, directly and indirectly, that we internalize and make our own. Messages that tell us that we mustn't really know our reality,  that we somehow "let" this happen, that we should have known better, that we must be the only one (so WE must be bad/wrong/damaged for this to have happened), that it could have been worse (so, get over it)...again the list goes on and on... is it any wonder that we lose our voices, and doubt our truth?

But we know all of that, don't we? Here's what I haven't really figured out...why is it that society is so willing to believe a perp over a victim? Why is it we have to question the motives, actions, integrity of a victim, as if they are the ones guilty of some crime, while we allow perps to be considered innocent until proven guilty? Why is it so much easier for society to believe that victims are lying, and that perps couldn't have possibly have committed the atrocities that they are accused of? I have answers to these questions based on my research, and my work...how if we acknowledge that there are monsters among us that maybe WE could be a monster, or someone we love could be a monster; or that if we acknowledge that someone else was victimized we might have to acknowledge our own victimizations, that the perps have shouted so loud for so long that we started to believe their "truth", etc...yes I have some intellectual answers...but these answers don't satisfy me in my gut, and they don't satisfy my sense of justice.

What is the answer? Maybe, at least part of the answer is Honoring our Truth. Honoring the Truth of our Sisters (and Brothers). Letting our voices be heard. Letting all of our voices drown out the voices of the people who would blame us, shame us, dismiss us.

Here is one of my Truths that I will Honor today:
I was 7, John McA$$hat was 15.  For years I thought "I should have stopped it, I should have fought harder." Truth: He was literally twice my size. And even when my brother, who nobody messed with threatened to kill him, he still didn't stop. I couldn't have stopped him.

Thursday, June 23, 2016

Finding our Voices

So, there was this AA speaker that would always say that her sponsor told her "some people grow from love...some people grow from pain; YOU grow from pain." I used to think that was such bull$hit, and it kinda made me angry, this idea that we can't all grow from love. I can look back over my life and see many times that I have grown as a person because of the love I was shown, and how I was stifled as a person by pain. 

Recently, though I think I grew from pain. The Stanford rapist-$hit-a$$ thing was very painful...it made me angry, it broke my heart, it triggered my $hit...but somewhere in that mess I finally got angry enough to find my voice, and start breaking free from the shame I have been carrying for so, so many years. And I see others, who like me have carried their not-so-secret secret who are now stepping into the light, and letting their voices be heard. In doing so, in seeing my Sisters do so, I DO feel stronger, and I feel connected to something greater...to the Sister-Warriorhood. 

As we find our voices, as we share our fears, shames, strengths, vulnerabilities; we become stronger. We've been shouted over, silenced, belittled so long that we believed that we were wrong...but no more...as each of us shares our story, and lets our voice be heard, we make all of our voices stronger, until WE are louder than our attackers...and those men and women who have hurt us finally have to carry their own shame, and we can be free. We can live in the Power we were meant to have. We can finally honor our Voice, our Experience, our Truth.

I am still angry...but no longer blindfully rageful...that blind rage allowed me to crack myself open and break my silence, but it was a rage that was going to burn me. This anger will allow me to continue hold onto my voice, and to support my sisters (and brothers) as they find their voices, and their power. So, yes, sometimes we can grow from pain. Look out, The Revolution is coming...

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Spreading the Light

I was already feeling a little philosophical (or full of bs?) this morning since I spent most of the night lying awake with my rambling thoughts rather than sleeping...and then I read a snippet in the newspaper. This chap, Scott Maxwell I believe was his name, had been asked to speak at his church about the Orlando Massacre...the last line he asks, "Did I spread light, or foster darkness?" In my own way, I had been pondering this question for myself as I zombied, half asleep through my morning.

Specifically, I was thinking about the life events that have brought me to exactly where I am right now. Had my dad not lost the ranch through his alcoholism, and the crappy economy of the 80s, I would have hidden myself away on the ranch. Hidden away on the ranch I would have nurtured my own alcoholism, and probably be long dead. And I would like to think that somewhere along my travels, that I have spread light...that I have made someone's life just a little bit better...that maybe, just maybe, the world was a little tiny bit better for me being here.

Yesterday at the clinic a returning patient, upon seeing me, squealed my name and came running to give me a hug. I thought for a moment she must have me confused with someone else, but then she started going on about how engaged I was with her last time, and how it had made her feel important, and that her issues were important. It was something small in the grand scheme of the world, but for her it was a big deal. And it did make me feel like maybe I am important to this world, that by just being kind, and present, and engaged we all have the opportunity to make the world a better place.

As for the darkness, yes, I am guilty of being a fully engaged step-parent to the darkness. I gossip, I judge, I seethe. It is something I am ashamed of, and it is something I would like to change...but the darkness is seductive. Perhaps if I focus more on spreading the Light, and less on avoiding the darkness, my Light can fully dis-spell the darkness.

Monday, June 20, 2016

today was a good day...

Feeling less angry today. As well as less...well, everything...but in a good way. My last post was a catharsis. I said things that I needed to say, and that I've been needing to say directly for some time...I've just needed to let my truth see the light. I have been lugging my shame and fear around on my back for far too long, and I've been able to dump a little bit of that load. Am I cured? I don't know...I don't even know what that means, or what that would look like.

At least for today, I feel like a "normal" human being (or at least what I think a "normal" human being feels like)...not so much like the waif on the outside looking in. Will I be able to maintain, how will I maintain? I don't know. And that is okay. I'll take today, and I will embrace it with gratitude.

Yesterday, the 5 remaining days of my internship seemed like an insurmountable obstacle, but now that it's whittled down to 4, now that I know I will see my wife in 5 sleeps, now that by the end of next weekend I will only have one more written test left to finish my degree...now I feel like I'm on the downhill, and at least for today, everything seems do-able.


Sunday, June 19, 2016

Raging Rant

I'm re-posting this from my other blog (with some editing), Finding Grace (http://fallingupwithgrace.blogspot.com/) ...because I can...and because I finally was able to recover my password for this one...and because, fuck it...I'm not going to be afraid of my truth anymore (and who hears it).

I've been in Washington for 3 weeks now for my internship. I was expecting it to be hell, but I wasn't fully prepared for the types of hell it has been. Yes, I expected to miss home...in all the ways that home is home (snuggling at bed time with wife and pups while watching stupid tv, studying with friends before tests, hitting a favorite restaurant once a week, spontaneous meet-ups with friends, routine, etc.). I expected to be exhausted from my internship (esp when I heard I'd be doing 4 10's), but I wasn't prepared for what amounts 11 hours a day with "learning" lunch breaks. I wasn't prepared for 11 hours a day of christian radio and hearing about the church, and the ministry, and "loving the lord." And, nothing against religion, or spirituality...but non-stop ANYTHING is wearing...I couldn't listen to Enya 11 hours a day, and talk about Enya all day long, and I LOVE Enya. Even though my supervisor is a very loving, kind, and open hearted Christian, not all of his patients are, so by opening up discussions about Christian views, invariably there will be patients discussing their view of the evil ho-mo-SEX-u-als.

I also wasn't prepared for the 20 hours of sunlight that Washington gets every day...having turned into an old lady who is up with the sun, I've averaged about 5 hours of sleep a night since I've been here...and it is catching up with me...and really exacerbating my post-concussion symptoms...concentration, confusion, balance, etc. Oh yeah, and I'm doing an online class...which is hard to keep up with when it takes me 30 minutes of reading to comprehend a paragraph.

Since I've been here, and away from home and stability the Stanford Rapist Debacle, and Orlando Massacre have occurred. Both have left me reeling. In the SRD, the miscarriage of justice when that little fucker was convicted but slapped on the hand by the good ol boy judge, when that young woman was run through the fucking wringer...when she endured the hell of being put on trial even though she was the victim...when she was re-victimized by the court system...and the jury found him guilty, but the perpetrator was the one who the judge decided he needed to take care of, keep safe...not the fucking victim of the little privileged piss head (who has apparently never had to take accountability for his actions)...when all of these things occurred I was knocked askew. I am heart broken for his victim, and for every other victim out there that has not gotten the justice that they deserve. I am heart broken for every person who has been told, and/or believed that it was their fault that they were sexually assaulted. I am heart broken for every person whose life has been irreparably damaged by sexual assault. And yes, I'm heart broken for myself. I'm heart broken for every fucking time I thought I was safe, and I learned that I wasn't. I'm heart broken for myself that by the last time I was violated, I'd been violated so many times it just wasn't that big of a deal...and even though that is the case, I never quite feel safe...my body is still not my own...and the nightmare never quite goes away, even when it quiets to a gentle white noise in the background...it never gives me complete peace...like the peace you get when the electricity goes off and without the refrigerator, and clocks, and lights humming, you finally hear true silence when you didn't even realized that your perception of silence was an illusion as you realize how loud the "quiet" was. And I have no positive, feel-good, "on-the-other-hand" for this. It just sucks, and it is the experience of way too many of us, and the press on this case was just a slap-in-the-face reminder about the lack of justice/resolution/closure most of us will experience.

Re: Orlando...in the week before the shooting, I had had two... TWO fucking conversations with people where I told them that things weren't so bad for us gays anymore. One of the people was looking for assurance as a mother of a teenage girl who had just come out as bi that she would be okay. "It's not like it used to be...it's mainly just cyber-douche hats these days...I haven't been threatened with a beating, or rape in over 10 years" I told her. Then this. I didn't really think it had affected my sense of safety as a lesbian until Monday at work when someone asked me if I was married...and I didn't correct him when he asked about my "husband." I haven't fucking hid the gender of my partner in years...but deep down, my sense of safety was rocked. I feel like I'm back on solid ground again there...but I'm angry...at so many fucking things I can't even articulate...but one is that some people's response was to immediately change their profile picture to some NRA bullshit, because defending every fucking nut jobs right to buy an assault rifle is more important than mourning our dead and thinking about how we can keep fuck -tards from easily getting their hands on weapons meant for war. You know what? I love guns. I think they are fun, especially ones that go "bang-bang-bang!" really fast and loud. But you know what else I love...my fucking bio-identical progesterone cream. Which I have to go to my dr. for, after an exam and an blood test...and I don't get that prescription indefinitely...I have to keep going back to my dr. to prove that I am safe to take it. So this bull shit about not being able to screen people for gun purchase; it's bullshit!...guess what...you want an assault rifle, you go to the fucking shrink, get your eval, then you can get your gun..or not...and you have to fucking get a re-eval every fucking year. I only get 3 refills, you fuckers only get 1 box of ammo. Problem solved. Boom!

And it's not just Orlando that has me pissed off...it's the fact that even though we finally have our marriage recognized by the USA, there are still people who want to take that away...the fight isn't over. We can't just relax...we have to remain vigilant. Just like we have to remain vigilant every time we leave the house...yes I am out...but yes, I still have to be VIGILANT every time I reach for Chris' hand...is it safe? Is someone giving us the look who might have a gun, or a knife and wait until there is no one around so they can gut us or shoot us. Is it better? Yes. Is it safe? Hell no. And every time some whack-job preacher or senator proclaims that gays are evil and destroying our country, attacking our well-being; it gives some off-kilter whack-a-doo who is looking for someone else to blame for his lot in life; someone weaker than him to blame, permission to beat, rape, and/or kill one of us. And yes, I have guns, I sometimes carry a pistol...but that doesn't make us safe. Some Westboro walnut could walk up to me with a gun out and pull the trigger before I had a chance to reach in my pocket. I think way too many people think action movies are real, and forget how real life really works.

Fortunately, I do have some really awesome people in my life...a couple folks who have checked on me since I've been up here to make sure I'm doing okay with all the crazy in the world, and in MY world. The folks I'm staying with are awesome, and have gone above-and-beyond taking care of me...making me dinner, adjusting my neck, bringing me fresh berries, loving me, making fart jokes...all the important stuff. Thank the Goddess for Love...and for allowing me to allow love into my life.