I have always had somewhat of a fascination with all things dark and morbid. I devour books about vampires and witches. I believe in ghosts and have been glued to the television watching multiple episodes of A Haunting. I’m also a big fan of horror films and shows.  And I know I’m not the only one judging by the popularity of shows such as The Walking Dead. (Yes, I’m hooked too) So, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to watch the first episode of the new season of American Horror Story. I was especially excited about seeing witches in action. However, I had to change the channel before the show was over.

Yes, I like dark. But I like dark and mysterious. I am curious about that which cannot be explained or understood. I want to know the secrets of magic and paranormal activity.

And although the show had witches and mysterious events, it had other things that I just couldn't watch. Namely, torture and rape. Now, I know you are probably thinking “but a lot of horror movies have torture.” And you would be right. But I've never been a fan of gratuitous torture. I can’t sit there while someone is being subjected to all kinds of cruel, unspeakable acts (i.e. Hostel). And in this show, it was torture of slaves. As if slavery wasn't torture in itself. As for rape, well, I can’t sit there and watch that either. I know, it’s just television and it was all acting. But I just couldn't deal with it.

So maybe I need to qualify my fascination. I like dark and mysterious. I like when the artist, be it an author or director, leaves “something to the imagination” so to speak. It’s what I can’t see, what I can’t explain, what I don’t know that fascinates me. It’s not knowing what lurks in the darkness just beyond or what could happen when I venture out that gets my blood pumping.  I like that adrenaline rush.

I’m not scared of ghosts or vampires or witches. I guess you could say that I have a fascination with the romantic side of darkness. It’s the mystery and exoticism that I am attracted to. It’s the idea of another realm or dimension where reality has been turned upside down and inside out and the impossible is possible.

What I am not fascinated with is true evil. I am frightened of true evil. And the scariest part-it’s not just mystery, but is real and exists. Torture and rape, that’s evil. And they are a reality of this world. They happen in broad daylight, all too often. And there are no vampires or witches or demons to blame. No, the blame falls to humans. And that is the most frightening. The knowledge that anyone of us can commit such cruel, heinous acts upon another. I guess that is why I couldn't continue watching the show. It was dark, but it wasn't just about the mysterious. It compounded the fear factor by focusing on the darkness that exists within humans. It showed the evil that humans are capable of. And that’s real. There is no turning off the television and forgetting. The reality is slaves were tortured.  People are tortured and people are raped. People are murdered. And often, it is the most vulnerable and innocent people.

They say that we should face our fears to overcome them. So, perhaps we should face our darkness to overcome it. Perhaps being exposed to the things that can and do happen in this world will wake us up and force us to make better, do better.  Maybe shows such as American Horror Story can serve this purpose. But I can’t help but wonder if these shows exist because many are fascinated with the morbid in a more dangerous way. What if some enjoy watching torture and rape? I shudder to think it.

Then again, maybe it’s a way for people to release the darkness within them. Maybe watching such shows is a way for people to exorcise the demon within. I understand that we may not be as civilized as we think. That underneath our refined facade we are all animals with untamed thoughts, lusts, and hungers. Maybe humans need to deal with this without consequences.  We can’t deny our own evil, our own darkness. After all, humans are writing and acting in these shows. It comes from somewhere.

I don’t mean to be so dramatic about a mere television show. This is just how my brain works. What do you think? What is truly frightening to you?

Life Happens

I just celebrated a birthday and getting older makes me look at back at my life and where I thought I would be at this age. And I now have a greater appreciation for the saying “Men plan, God laughs.”

Yes, I had a lot of plans. And yes, God laughed.

As a little girl, I had many ambitious answers to the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?” I even aspired to be the first female president of the United States. That’s how all little ones think. There are no limitations to what you can do, who you can be.

I eventually settled on being a famous writer. At least for a moment. I started writing poetry in sixth grade and I thought “hey, this might be my thing.” I admit, my writing left a lot to be desired, but I was only eleven. What did I know?

Then, in high school, I got the wild idea that I wanted to study psychology and theater. I even thought I could do a double major! (What?!?!?) I was going to work in an institution for the mentally insane and perform on stage. Does that even make sense? What a crazy dreamer I was.

Then I wanted to be an actress. I was going to be in the movies! I loved the feeling of being on stage. I loved the imagination involved. I could be anyone, anywhere, anytime, if just for a few moments.

I also thought I might not get married or have kids. I was going to be successful and travel the world and never settle into the boring, mundane life that most people do. I swore I would not depend on a man to take care of me, but make my own way, make my own money, and do my own thing.

But, as we all figure out eventually, life doesn't always go according to plan. And my express train to independence and success got derailed. And I found myself on a crowded bus heading for who knows where. I quit going to college, dated and partied a lot, just kind of drifting along waiting for something to happen.

As for acting, I was an extra in a couple of shows. But it didn’t pan out. My means of transportation broke down and I couldn’t afford to fix it and that made it hard to make it to gigs, a lot of which were in L.A. And I had a full time job and I couldn’t take the day off at a moment’s notice when I got a call to be an extra. And the money wasn’t anything to brag about. So, I gave up on that dream.

Then, out of nowhere, my husband walked into my life. I didn’t plan on falling in love, but it happened. I didn’t plan on moving in with him and getting married and having a baby. But it all happened.

Then I went back to school to study Interior Design. Then I was selling and installing floors.

So, I am nowhere I planned to be by now. But even though my life didn’t work out according to my grand scheme, it all worked out. I can’t imagine life without my husband and son. They are everything to me. They make life fun and amazing and beautiful and crazy. They give my life meaning.

I admit that I am not happy selling floors or being an administrative assistant. No, I want more. That is why I have goals. Not plans, but goals. I don’t know what else life may throw at me. I don’t know what tomorrow or the next day will bring. All I know is what I want, what I will work towards, what I can do. So, I have my goals and I will work towards those goals, but I can’t say they won’t change.

What are my goals? To become an interior designer, to create beauty for others. Yes, floors may be involved, but that won’t be all. To design accessories and furniture. To publish at least one book. To create beauty in this world. To raise my son right and watch him grow and set his own goals. To love and cherish my husband and grow old with him. To be the best person that I can be.  To live each day, appreciate all that I have been given, and to meet each challenge to the best of my ability. Those are my goals.

As for plans, well, we all know what happens to those. So, I will assess, adapt, and advance (my husband owns all rights to that saying) as I find my way along this bumpy, winding, roller coaster like labyrinth of a road they call life.

That is life. It changes, it takes side roads, it goes places you didn’t want to go. But that is what makes you stronger, what makes you take a long hard, look at yourself. It forces you to discover who you truly are and what you truly want. It challenges you and breaks you down and builds you up. It isn’t always fair. It isn’t always beautiful. But it’s always exciting. Would we want it any other way?

So, I will just take it day by day. And share a few laughs with God.

Numb and Waiting

You may have figured out by now that when it comes to music, I don’t just listen, I experience. I dive right in, let the sounds and the lyrics drown out everything else. I can’t help it.

So on that note, the other day I heard two songs in a row that I thought spoke to the same feelings. It was two different artists, and from what I could decipher, two different situations. Nonetheless, I felt the pain was related. Of course, this got my brain on wheels rolling down this path and I wondered how, why these songs came to be. I wanted to understand the feelings that inspired these songs.

The first song was “Numb” by Linkin Park.  Here are the first few lines:

      “I’m tired of being what you want me to be,                        Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.

Don’t know what you’re expecting of me,

Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes...

Cause every step that take is another mistake to                you…”

So, I don’t know what you think, but I automatically thought about someone trying to live up to the expectations of their parents. I am sure so many may have dealt with or are dealing with this same confusion and sadness. This isn't a unique problem. Parents want the best for their children. They want their children to succeed, to be the best they can be. But sometimes, parents forget that what they think is best for their children may not be what their children want or need. Some parents want their children to succeed at what they could not succeed at themselves. It can be easy to push one’s own desires onto one’s children.

                “I’ve become so numb, I can’t feel you there,

                  I’ve become so tired, so much more aware.

                  I’m becoming this, all I want to do,

                  Is be more like me and be less like you…”

This is where children start to defy their parents. They start to turn away, shut them out. Why? Because they don’t want to be anyone but themselves, and that includes their parents. And it hurts when they feel as though they can never satisfy their parents, as though they can never make them happy or proud. It’s frustrating and heartbreaking.

                  “Can’t you see that you’re smothering me,

                   Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control.

                   Cause everything that you thought I would                        be

                   Is falling apart right in front of you…”

Sometimes parents hold on too tightly. As a parent, I know I have to fight this urge, am already fighting this urge. But children have their own minds and hearts and souls. They are not robots to be programmed and controlled. They have their own paths to follow, their own lives to live. And sometimes, they will get hurt, they will fall, they will make mistakes. But we have to love and accept them for who they are, not who we think they should be or who we want them to be.

The second song was “Right Here Waiting” by Staind. Here are the first few lines:

                “I know I’ve been mistaken

                 But just give me a break and see the changes                    that I’ve made

                 I’ve got some imperfections

                 But how can you collect them all and throw                      them in my face…”

This song could also be about a parent, but I think it’s about a lover. A lover who can’t accept someone for who they are, flaws and all.

                “But you always find a way to keep me right                       here waiting….

                  And if you chose to walk away, I’d still be                         right here waiting…”

Again, there is that one you want nothing more than to please, to make happy, but you seem to fail every time. And it hurts, but somehow you find yourself trying time after time.

                “I hope you’re not intending to be so                                   condescending

                  It’s as much as I can take

                  But you’re so independent,

           You refuse to bend so I keep bending till I                         break…”

And the failure to be what someone wants, needs, is proud of, loves unconditionally, begins to tear you apart inside. It causes fractures in your heart, snowstorms in your soul.

I think it might be easy for people to fall into a cycle of this behavior. Maybe you did everything in your power to please your parents but you could never succeed. Then you do everything in your power to please your lover with the same negative effects. All you ever wanted was to be loved unconditionally, to be accepted for all that you are and all that you are not. And yet you suffer from loving those who can never be satisfied.

There is a significant line in the Linkin Park song:

                “But I know that you were just like me with                         someone disappointed in you…”

And in the Staind song:

                “But I always find a way to keep you right here                   waiting…”

Yes, a cycle. Some people do everything to please though they can’t.  Some are never pleased. And these types often find each other and relive all the pain they've suffered before.

Ok, so I studied Psychology at one point and maybe I need to remind myself that I am now studying a completely different subject. And maybe you want me to quit being such a downer!

Anyway, what I want to say is that in the end, not one of us is perfect. We are all flawed and we have all suffered failure. We are human. But we all deserve to be loved and accepted. We should remember to look in the mirror before we point a disapproving finger. And we should never forget that forgiveness, understanding, and acceptance are essential to healthy relationships of any nature. 

Same Love

I recently wrote about prejudice and racism. And I know that what I said and anything else I may have to say has probably already been said before. But I guess I’m not done. 

Again, I will touch on something controversial. I generally like to tiptoe around such touchy subjects (I avoid confrontation and debate as much as possible), but I feel that these words must be spoken.

I recently heard the new Macklemore and Ryan Lewis song. Perhaps you know their song “Thrift Shop." Anyway, the new song is called “Same Love,” and it got my brain on wheels rolling.

The song focuses on homosexuality, but I think the words reach beyond the fight for gay marriage. I think the song speaks to the fight for liberty and equality for everyone. This fight is a never ending one, one that has raged on through countless centuries. Perhaps because we humans evolve slowly, we don’t seem to be able to shed our chains of ignorance.

I thought about this as I read The Secret Life of Bees as I told you in a previous blog.

I also thought about it when I watched Cloud Atlas. One of stories revolved around a young white man aboard a ship who helps an escaped slave. The slave ends up saving the young man’s life and the young man returns home where he denounces his father-in-law’s involvement with the slave trade. The young man and his wife then move east to join in Abolitionist efforts. In a later story set in the future, another man risks his life to rescue a female human clone from slavery. This clone eventually broadcasts her “manifesto,” speaking of how we are all connected and our actions affect not only our own futures, but the future of all.

I thought about it again when I listened to Labyrinth. In Labyrinth however, it was religion, not race that caused pain and suffering. The novel involves a group of Christians, known as the Cathars, who opposed the Catholic church.  They practiced a religion that may be considered more liberal than Catholicism. Considered heretics, the Cathars were massacred, many burned alive. So many wars fought and so many lives taken in the name of religion. Why? I believe God ‘s ultimate word is love. I believe God is love. I believe we are meant to love each other as God loves us, despite our imperfections and impurities. So why? Why must we deny love to people who are different? 


And this song made me think about the discrimination and intolerance homosexuals experience. It made me think about the pain they often suffer at the hands of those who hate. Unfair treatment. Beatings and murders. Denial of the right to marry the one they love. Looked upon as evil, wrong, sick. 

I can’t fathom people exploiting, denouncing, murdering, hating others they don’t even know, based solely on the color of their skin, or the name and number of their deities, or whom they love. I know that there may be some misguided genetic drive to protect our own that may be the root cause. I know that people are often products of their environment. I know ignorance can be taught. I know people think their religion, their God(s) tell them certain people must be shunned because who they are, what they do, is wrong and evil. Honestly, I don’t know every word in the Bible. I don’t know that it says people who are gay are beyond the love of God. I do know that the Bible says we should love our neighbors as ourselves. 

Hate is strong. It can tear up, tear apart, and tear down. It can ruin lives, take lives. It can darken hearts, souls, homes, cities, societies. It poisons us, kills us slowly. So why do we hold on to it? Why do we allow it to set roots inside us? We do we let it wrap chains around us? Why do we give it the power to hold us down, keep us from reaching a higher existence of peace? Why do we continue to look at those who are different as threats to our existence? 

I know that it would be simple to say “all we need is love,” or “give peace a chance.” I know the whole subject is much more complicated, and as the human population grows, more people come in contact with others who are very different, and tolerance involves an immense amount of understanding and patience. I know I can scream from the rooftops, but it may make little difference. But it won’t stop me from saying how I feel. I will not hesitate to accept all, with open arms, a open mind, and an open heart. I will not hesitate to ask that you all do the same. I know I can’t tell you what you should believe, and I don’t want to offend or fight. I just hope that you will not let intolerance drag you down to the depths of the human prison.

Maybe you won’t like this song. Maybe you think it’s simple. Maybe you don’t believe that gay people should be allowed to marry. Just open your ears and open your mind. 

And maybe we can all open our hearts and allow love to set us free.

                                 

An Atlas for the Labyrinth

I recently listened to the book Labyrinth by Kate Mosse. I also watched the movie Cloud Atlas. Again, I find it fascinating how the more you are exposed to, the more you see the myriad of connections in this world and the more you contemplate the mysteries of life. Here are two different genres of art that I just happened to come upon at the same time. And they both focus on reincarnation. And they both got my brain going.

Of course, most people chalk it up to coincidence or that you subconsciously look for something once you are thinking about it. It could be true. But I like to the think that the forces of the universe drop bread crumbs for you on your path to enlightenment.

Labyrinth is the story of two women, from two very different times. Alais is the intelligent and independent daughter of a nobleman, living in Medieval France. Alice is an equally independent and intelligent English woman, working at an archaeological dig in modern day France. In the course of the book, Alice experiences memories that could not be her own and realizes that she is somehow connected to Alais. Ultimately, the book is about a quest for the Holy Grail and both women fight to protect its sacred secret from evil, power hungry women who seek to exploit its power.

Cloud Atlas is somewhat a labyrinth itself. It jumps between various times and places, from a ship in the Pacific Ocean in 1850, to a post apocalyptic island in the distant future. The tales and lives of the numerous characters are interwoven, serving to show “how the actions of individual lives impact one another in the past, present and future, as one soul is shaped from a killer into a hero, and an act of kindness ripples across centuries to inspire a revolution." 

The idea of reincarnation isn't a new one. While there is no definite date of origin, references to reincarnation are found in religious and philosophical writings of various ancient religions and societies, most notably Indian and Asian.  Some believe that whether or not we are reborn and who/what we are reborn as depends on who we are and what we do in prior lifetimes. Perhaps there is some purpose we must serve. Perhaps our cruelty and violations in one life require punishment and redemption in another. Whatever the case maybe, the soul continues on, shedding one body for another.

Still, others believe there is no individual 

permanent soul, rather one soul gives way to another. Birth, death, and rebirth - but of a different sort. The energy of a body is released into the universe to find another bodily form. And it isn't always into the body of the same gender, or even the same species.

I have always considered reincarnation to be a possibility. As I said before, I wonder if déjà-vu can be attributed to reincarnation. What about “memories” of a distant time and place or of people you don’t know? I know that I have felt as though I had been somewhere or known someone even though I couldn't have.

Sometimes, it’s my dreams that make me 

wonder. Where does my brain come up with houses, places, strangers, and stories that my dreams bring? Why am I sometimes someone else? Why am I sometimes a man? I guess that could just be the product of an overactive imagination. But what if it’s not? What if a previous me is trying to help me do what I need to do to make this life a good one.

I am not 100 percent sure of reincarnation. One thing I am sure of is karma. I believe there are consequences for each and every individual action. Each of us is capable of setting things into motion, good or bad, that we don’t even realize. What we did in the past, what we do now, can affect lives in the future. We are all connected and our lives, our stories are interwoven, just like Labryinth, just like Cloud Atlas. When we are cruel, when we seek to fulfill our basest desires at the cost of other’s happiness, when we commit evil, we dig our own karmic grave. The universe will find a way to make amends. On the other hand, when we are good and loving and giving, the universe will find a way to reward us. It often seems to take longer than we think it should, but perhaps it is only because we think in terms of moments, not lifetimes, not eternity.

So, could we be destined to live life after life, until we redeem ourselves? Could one life’s unfulfilled destinies be lived out by another? Are we making our way through some cosmic labyrinth, trying to find our way towards the ultimate freedom of our soul? Do clues from previous lives become part of a subconscious atlas we can use to guide us to the higher realm? 

And what about the people in our lives? Are we destined to connect? Will the souls of loved ones be reborn into bodies we will hold in the next life? Will they know us? Will we know them? Or will we just have "a feeling," a sort of hazy memory that we can't quite pull into focus? 

What do you think?

Free your mind and the bees will follow....

I know I just recently hit you with a controversial subject and maybe you would like me to write about something funny. I apologize, but again I find myself focusing on something that may cause some discomfort.

I just finished the book The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. It touched on quite a few emotional themes, some of which touched me. While I would love to write about them all, there is one in particular that really had me thinking. And that is racism.

The events of the book take place in the American South in 1964, the same year the Civil Rights Act was passed. The main character, Lily Owens, is a teenage white girl whose mother died when Lily was very young. Neglected by her abusive father, Lily is loved and cared for by Rosaleen, a black woman who acts as a surrogate mother to her. Rosaleen has a run in with some of the town’s most racist men and is arrested. Angry with her father and fearing for Rosaleen’s safety, Lily decides they both need to leave town.  Her destination is Tiburon, SC, the city printed on the back of an image of Mary as a black woman Lily found among a few of her mother’s belongings.

Lily and Rosaleen make their way to the home of August, June, and May Boatwright. These three black women are beekeepers whose honey containers are labeled with the image of Mary as a black woman. The sisters take in Lily and Rosaleen, not only giving them a place to live, but a place to learn, to thrive, and to call home, both literally and figuratively.

Throughout the book, Lily comes across very racist people who disapprove of her staying with the Boatwright family. But she is happy there. There she experiences the love and nurturing she has been missing for too long. And she can’t understand why she should leave. Like Lily, I sometimes wonder if “life would be better if God had deleted skin pigmentation.”

Though I am not black, I am Hispanic, and I have experienced racism. It hurts. And in those moments, I wondered how people could be so cruel…and so damn ignorant. I wonder how it is that we haven’t gotten to the point where all are judged by the content of their character and not by the color of their skin. Because in the end, there are good and bad people of all colors.

Why? Why do people focus on skin color? For that matter, why do people focus on any physical attributes? Why do people focus on creed, culture, religion, gender, sexual preference? How can you rightfully say that you know someone based on any of those things? How can you rightfully say they are good or bad based on any of those things? You really can’t, can you?

But, I know that this issue, like most, is not black and white. Racism is a complicated issue.

It is a learned thing, true. Some pass on their ideas to their children. And they, in turn, pass them to their children. In this way, that ignorance, that hatred, continues to burn, despite the advances we make as a society.

But where does it come from? How does it all begin? We aren't just born with racist genes are we?

Well, what if we are born with something that causes us to judge others we see as different? When you think about it, we are all prejudice to some degree. Prejudice simply means “prejudgment.” And don’t we all prejudge in some fashion? Even Lily had her moments. She questioned Rosaleen’s intelligence. She was indignant about June’s initial treatment of her because she was white. Like her, we all have our moments. Perhaps we don’t always say it aloud. Perhaps we don’t even admit it to ourselves. But don’t we all think certain thoughts about people we see or hear about that we don’t really know? Really think about it. Maybe it’s the girl wearing the short skirt or the guy wearing baggy jeans. Maybe it’s the person with the tattoos and piercings or the person wearing glasses and a suit. Maybe it’s someone who looks foreign. And that can differ depending on what country you think they are from. Maybe it’s someone who works at a fast food restaurant or someone who works for a law firm. I could go on and on. Point is, we may all find judgmental thoughts creeping into our heads, and we may not even realize it at the time. We might even treat these people differently without knowing it. Why?

I think that again, we are not completely evolved. We still have basic, animal tendencies. And like animals, our ancestors made “prejudgments” about other creatures. For our ancestors, the ability to survive often depended on our ability to discern whether or not something or someone was our enemy.

Think about how some animals react to our presence. They freeze or run or hide or attack. Because they don’t know if we are going to pet them or eat them. And that is how they react to other creatures as well. As far as they know, creatures other than their own are dangerous. So maybe, we still have that tendency. Maybe that not yet evolved part of us sees those that are different as a danger to our own.

But why can’t we move past that? Why don’t we evolve to a higher state of being which allows us to see beyond and within?

There is no doubt that there are just evil, bad people in the world with black hearts full of hate. There are people who have been taught to hate. There are people who have experienced trauma that affected their ability to love and accept. Until we evolve completely, there will always be people of this nature. But what about the rest of us? Can’t we get past it?

I like to think that we are on the right path. I myself married a man of German, Irish, and Italian descent. Our son is quite a mix. And as I look around me, I see a lot of mixes. And that makes me proud. It wasn’t that long ago after all, that people of different races weren’t allowed to marry or were disowned it they did. But still, I mention race. Is it necessary?

And we recently saw the passing of a landmark gay rights act that recognizes marriage between people of the same sex. It makes me so happy. Yet, there are people still fighting it, still spewing hate.

And religion. How many wars are being fought, how many lives are taken in the name of religion? Why? When so many religions leaders, past and present, have preached the power of love and good deeds? When religions speak to spiritual enlightenment?

Why? Why? Why?

I know I can keep asking and contemplating, but answers won’t come easily or quickly. This is just a lowly blog and I am neither scientist nor psychologist. I am just a curious, questioning reader and writer.

Please read this book. And please look in the mirror and ask yourself if your mind is as free as it should be. Can you look past color, past gender, past religion? Can you look beyond, within, and see to the human heart and soul? 

I hope that one day we all can.

Anna Karenina and Adultery

I’m going to talk about a very touchy subject. I just want to warn you. You might get uncomfortable.

I watched the latest film adaptation of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. I admit I never read the book so I didn't know quite what to expect. However, as I was watching, I was reminded of one of Tolstoy’s other works, The Kreutzer Sonata, which I had recently listened to. Both dealt with infidelity. And both were very tragic. Tolstoy definitely had an opinion on the matter.

I think most people have a definite opinion on the matter. It may differ slightly depending on culture and religion. But here in America, in this society, adultery is frowned upon.  It is a sin to the religious and grounds for divorce to the law. And adulterers are spoken of with disdain. Of course, people love to gossip about adulterers, but that’s a different discussion.

As I watched Anna Karenina, I thought about my own feelings about adultery. And, as with most matters, I began to wonder if the subject was not as black and white as we treat it. I myself am not a fan of cheating. I have seen the pain and turmoil it can cause. I consider it to be selfish and unfair to the person one has promised to love and honor. You chose to get married. I say that if you are unhappy, you need to do one or all of three things:

1.       Talk to your spouse.

2.       Talk to a counselor.

3.       Separate/Divorce

I know people say, “but, it isn't that easy.” I just can’t see how lying and sneaking around is easier. Yes, you have to work at keeping a marriage alive and healthy. You have to let go of your pride and ego sometimes. You have to open up even when you are confused and afraid.

But, I don’t have the right to judge anyone. Nor am I an expert in the matter. And the only people who truly understand what is going on in a relationship are the two people in that relationship. It’s easy to stand outside and tell people what to do. It’s more difficult to understand how they feel, to walk in their shoes, to see the situation from their point of view. And that’s what I was thinking as I watched the film.

Why do people cheat? There are a myriad of reasons to be sure. But why do seemingly good people betray their spouses? I know there are those who do it just because they can. There are selfish, slimy people in the world who don’t care about anyone or anything. But what about the others?

Anna Karenina was married to an honorable man. However, their marriage seemed to lack warmth, and passion. The word that came to my mind was “orderly.” Then into her life appears a very desirable man and the connection between them is instant. Although she at first tries to fight what she feels, she eventually gives in. The situation for Anna is certainly difficult. In her time and place, women were dependent upon their husbands. Although men cheated, they weren't treated with the malice that cheating women were. (Anna discovers that while she is treated as a pariah, her lover continues to kiss the hands of aristocratic ladies.) And divorce was akin to a crime. On top of all that was the fact that Anna could lose her son should she leave her husband. What could she do?

In The Kruetzer Sonata, the main character’s wife befriends a man with musical talent. This becomes their connection. Music is very powerful, as is desire. From the way the main character relates his story, from his words and mannerisms, I could guess why his wife was disloyal.  He seemed an irritable, angry, dark man. In the end, he kills his wife in a fit of rage. He loses his children, but not his freedom as the court decided he was merely defending his honor. (The gender hypocrisy in both these stories drives me mad!)

For the characters of these stories, as with many people of past times and distant lands, marriage may have not been a matter of love, but a matter of finance, status, or politics. In some way, perhaps that still occurs today. Maybe society puts so much pressure on people to get married, that people rush into it, or do it for all the wrong reasons. And maybe society puts too much pressure on people to stay together when they shouldn't  People can and do change. Same with feelings. The heart is a mysterious thing. It doesn't always do what you want it to do or what it should. It doesn't follow whatever rules we try to set. Could it be a matter of wrong person at the right time or right person at the wrong time? Do people fall out of love as easily as they fall in love? Could some love just be temporary?

As time goes by, relationships can suffer under the pressures of everyday life. Careers and children often take precedence. The person that was once your best friend and lover becomes a roommate and business partner. Men want to feel young and virile again. Women want to feel desired and appreciated. And if their spouses take them for granted or ignore their sexual and emotional needs, they sometimes wander. Again, this goes back to ego and selfishness. But I can see how people rationalize it. The brain is a mysterious thing, too.

But what if it is more than just an emotional thing? We are one of the few creatures of this planet who select a mate for life. Most other animals mate with many, driven by instinct. Of course, we are not like other animals, and we have brains that supposedly allow us to think and not just act. But what if that animal instinct has not been totally subdued and we are not as evolved as we think? What if those instincts sometimes fight their way past our civil facades? When you really look at it, desire seems very much a raw impulse. Scientifically speaking, are we meant to be with just one person?

Of course, we have become a more liberal society and there are people who have “open relationships.” I won’t judge them either. People are different. And just because I wouldn't do it doesn't give me the right to say it’s wrong. As long as there is complete honesty and both partners have an understanding.

I hope I didn't upset anyone. Again, I am not advocating adultery. My brain just got to rolling after watching that movie and I think maybe we should talk about such matters instead of ignoring them or sweeping them under the rug or whispering about it in dark corners.

I am lucky that I am in love with my husband and our relationship means so much to both of us. We understand that infidelity would destroy this beautiful thing we have. But that’s us.

I hope that all of you have deep, meaningful relationships and you are happy. But if you are not, I hope that you can figure things out. I hope that if/when you marry or if you are married, that your spouse is your best friend and you can reach out to them when your heart is hurting. I hope you don’t experience a disconnection that drives you away from the person you should be running to in your time of need. If you have cheated or are cheating, take a moment to reflect and dig deep, and figure out what the real problem/solution is. 

Love is such a complicated thing. Humans are complicated things. My brain is whirling.

Dreams

I had an interesting dream a few nights ago. I was standing in a kitchen with an old woman who was a fortune teller. She cracked an egg, looked at the yolk, and then made some surprised and worried sounds. I looked at the yolk and actually saw pictures in it, but they disappeared before I could really figure out what the message was. The old woman then gave me a warning as what she read was not good. It was something about “not losing him”. At first I thought she was referring to my son. But then it seemed she was talking about my husband, and perhaps he was cheating on me.

Strange, right?

I think I have told you before that I have extremely weird and vivid dreams. I see brilliant colors. I can taste and hear and smell. I can fly a lot of the time, too. There are all kinds of nonsense scenarios and some interesting characters, supernatural creatures, plot twists, etc. And they are long, too. Surprisingly, I am often aware that I am dreaming.

That being said, I believe that despite all the wackiness, dreams can help you get in touch with your innermost thoughts and feelings. So, I was curious as to what this old lady fortune teller dream meant. I did a little research. What I came up with is this:

I may have some psychic abilities but I am unsure of what my future holds and I have some creative energy that I need to harness and control and perhaps I have some pent up emotions and need spiritual warmth and nourishment.

Or something like that.

I have long felt that I do have some psychic ability. Or perhaps just a strong intuition. My dreams have told me about future events before. I often feel like I know people before I do, or know what will happen before it does. I can read people well, too. I knew I would be with my husband the first time I saw him and I knew I would have a boy from the time I found out I was pregnant. I had a dream about attending a funeral the night before receiving a call about a death. I once saw a random person in an airport in a distant city, but felt like I knew them. And then I met that person some months later. It may all be nothing. I am hypersensitive, so it could be that I pay attention to the subtle clues the universe gives. Or it could all just be a series of great coincidences.

I often wonder if perhaps we all have some psychic ability, that somewhere deep inside lies a power that we can harness if we tried. We only use a small percentage of our brains, so that wouldn't be surprising. We also don’t listen well to our own hearts and minds and souls. Maybe if we took the time to detach from all the noise, technology, and outer chaos, and looked within, we wouldn't be so uncertain about things.

I admit to feelings of uncertainty regarding my future. I know what I want to do, but I’m not there yet. I have creative energy, and I want to release it. I want to write, and I want to design. Maybe this aching desire is causing pent up emotions. Maybe creating beauty and sharing it with the world can give my soul some nourishment. Maybe I need to stop dreaming about it and go after it with all I have. Maybe I need to connect with a deeper, greater source of wisdom. Maybe that source is within me.

On the other hand, what if all the theoretical physicists are right and there are numerous dimensions? And what if we are offered a peek into these other realities via our dreams? Sometimes I wonder. People in my waking life act differently in my dreams. (Like my very loyal, honest, kind, loving husband who in my dream was possibly cheating on me, which may be attributed to inner fears). There are occasions where I’m even different in my dreams. Different as in not me, but some other woman, or man. Other times I feel as though I’m watching a movie about other people’s lives.

Or maybe dreams offer glimpses into past lives. If you believe in that kind of thing. Past lives could explain my feelings of knowing people I've never met before or places I've never been. Could that be what déjà vu is all about?

Or maybe we sometimes connect with the other world. The one where God (whoever, whatever you believe God to be), resides. Maybe we can receive messages, wisdom, and guidance from God in our dreams.

Or maybe life is a dream and dreams are reality? Who really knows?

Now that we've gotten thoroughly lost, perhaps you would like me to stop my wandering brain on wheels. I’ll leave you here.

But I’ll keep dreaming.

I recently finished three different books which took place in different times and different parts of the world. However, they all had something in common that bothered me and got me thinking. Perhaps you are familiar with these novels:

Tess of the D’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See

In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez

In all three of these novels, women suffered greatly. I can just hear all the sarcastic “but don’t women suffer in all great novels?” But, it’s more than just the fact that they suffer. They suffer at the hands of men and societies dominated by men with questionable ideas of right and wrong.

Now guys, don’t get all up in arms about that last sentence. I swear I don’t think all men are bad. I think that men, as well as women, for so long have also been unconscious victims of societal pressures. Men are expected to act a certain way and do certain things and believe certain things. And often times, not adhering to the rules of other men would get them into trouble or hurt or killed or draw unwanted attention to the women in their lives.

I am not a feminazi. I am married and I love to serve my husband and dote on my son. I love to cook and bake and keep a clean house. My husband helps with all the housework and I once had to fight my own thoughts of “but that’s my job.” Some might attribute that to society’s definition of how men and women should behave. But I rather enjoy pleasing the males in my home. And I also think that true independence and equality for women means a woman can choose to become a mother and housewife or a single CEO without anyone thinking less of her.  I choose to be a mother, wife, writer, dreamer, and aspiring interior designer. I choose to work and attend school. Admittedly, this means the house isn’t always spotless or the dinners always hot and ready. But I have a husband who loves, helps, and supports me, and for that I am thankful.

I also don’t have a dirt poor family with too many mouths to feed. I didn’t have to work hard as a teenager to support my family. I don’t have bound feet or in-laws that work me like a slave. My marriage wasn’t arranged and my husband doesn’t beat me. He loves and accepts me for all that I am. I don’t have to worry about him being hauled away by soldiers or the government taking our land and home (well….another subject). I haven’t lost any children or witnessed so much death. My mother didn’t treat me as just a worthless daughter or tell me that “only through pain would I have beauty.” I don’t have to worry about speaking out against the government or spies sitting under my window. I live a good life.

A lot of the women in these novels did not have a good life. They had some happiness. But in the end, there was so much tragedy.

Because this is just a lowly blog, I can’t give these three novels their just due. What I really wanted to get at is that I hope all you women and girls out there know your own worth and beauty. I hope you know your life is yours and you should choose as you see fit. You do not belong to anyone. You are not property or a toy or a “worthless branch.” You are not a slave. You have the right to speak up, speak out, and be heard. You deserve love, respect, and recognition. And I hope that as women, we can reach out to and support each other.

I hope that one day women will not suffer at the hands of brutal men, moral hypocrisy, or tyrannical societies and governments.

You are all ladies, flowers, and Mariposas.

Here is a poem I want to share with you. It is sad, I know. But I hope we can all be treasure hunters and find those jewels and let them shine in all their glory.

Pirate

You never just open a door-

you pull on it with brute strength

until it cries, gives in, and lets you through.

And it watches with sad eyes

as you discover the secret it tried to protect

from your plundering hands.

Then you yank on the door again-

it howls like the wind over stormy seas

as you slam it shut to hide the secret,

so no one can get their greedy fingers

on what is yours, only yours.

And the secret is a treasure chest

filled with long forgotten jewels

covered in dust and sorrow.

You will never take the jewels

out of that dark box-

they would shine too brightly

and catch someone’s wandering eye.

You tell the chest, with its diamonds

formed from ages of oppressive heat

and overwhelming pressure,

that it is filled with useless junk

no one else would ever want.

And the chest secretly dreams of being discovered

by a treasure hunter with a map and a heart.

A bruised, bloody X marks the spot.

I wish that I wouldn't have to keep thinking about and writing about all the pain that humans cause each other. Maybe you are tired of hearing about it. But we know that ignoring it doesn't heal us. So, here I am again, sharing my thoughts with you.

Once more, I cried at the end of a long, sad news day. Again, I found myself asking why. Why do people hurt others this way? Why do innocent people lose life and limb because someone has a personal agenda? Why? Why? Why? And I would venture to guess that you too were asking why. Perhaps you too cried. Or maybe you became angry. Maybe you wanted to hit something.

I don’t know why these men did what they did. Maybe they felt this nation had wronged them or their people or their religion in some way and they wanted to avenge that wrong. I can’t begin to understand their motives. But I also know that somehow, someway, understanding why they did what they did can give us insight into the darkness that plagues the human race. It’s easy to judge each other. It’s more difficult to look beyond, to look deeper, to plunge into the mysterious recesses of the human condition.

I began to write this poem a year or so ago. I put it away and came back to it recently. Now, it seems to resonate even more.

Before you read it, please understand that with poetry, as with all writing, the subject is not always clear-cut, black and white. There are grey areas and personal experience can color it differently. In this poem, I am speaking to something larger than just this one incident. There is more than meets the eye, so to speak.

Also understand that I do believe in justice. I believe people who commit acts of brutality must be held accountable for their actions. And I believe in the right to defend one’s family and home. You can extrapolate to the national level if you wish. However, I hope that we can approach justice rationally, with open minds and open hearts, not clouded by anger, hate, or prejudice. I hope that someday all nations, all people, can separate the acts of an angry, misguided individual from their family, their culture, their religion, their ethnicity and their country. Because hate and anger, like fire, can burn out of control, and leave us all in ashes.

Each side in war thinks they are in the right. And violence begets violence. And we can all get caught in a never-ending loop of revenge. When does it end? 

An infinite sea of pointing fingers,

so many nameless faces to blame.

As hearts die and tempers flare,

we hunt for those who cause the pain.

An eye for an eye is the rule.

A life for a life what we demand.

Retribution we claim our right-

casting stones with dirty hands.

Vengeance is our tyrant king,

no compassion in his boiling blood.

Hording resentment like precious jewels-

his anger guides our destructive flood

Waves of fury will drown them all,

no mercy will be shown.

There are no innocents to be spared-

forgiveness forgotten or never known.

Our self-righteousness consumes us,

a fire raging out of control.

War is always our answer,

punishment always our goal.

The battles will rage on and on,

inhumanity taking its toll.

We’ll die along with our enemies-

hatred poisoning our souls.

When empathy and understanding

have finally withered away-

when we lose our humanity,

this world will darken and decay.

We will have our vengeance,

And they will have theirs too.

We’ll be buried side by side-

And blinded justice will have her due.