Yesterday it looked like it was going to storm, so I headed out for a walk. I was hoping to get caught in the rain. In times of stress, I need to do something that takes away some aspect of control, and summer storms are perfect. There is something intensely soothing about just giving in and getting soaked and not even trying to stave off total dishevelment. There are no ear buds full of sound to separate me from the world, and no one else around to distract me. When it’s good, it makes me think that this sort of experience is what the Islamic concept of “submission to god” in it’s pure pre-organized religion form must have originally been inspired by.

It is a good opportunity to think without interruption. One thing I’ve been thinking about and talking about a lot in the last week is the question of personal responsibility. Specifically, how much is it fair to ask of people when it comes to addressing the problems of the world? On one extreme I know that there are people who are willing to become fugitives living “off the grid” and giving up anything they can’t grow or craft themselves including modern medical supplies and coffee. This is, in my humble opinion, batshit insane. On the other end of taking a stand, there are the folks who honestly seem to think buying free range eggs is their fair share of world saving action. This is even MORE insane. Whatever reality those people inhabit, I want in on that.

Let me be clear. This is not about one-upmanship. This is not a guilt trip either. I think that most people, if they are honest with themselves, understand that the amount of suffering in the world is vast. Even in America where I can live below the federal poverty line in ways that most parts of the world might consider decadent, divisive wealth disparity, social inequality, and an obscene flaunting of excessive wealth in the same place that people are dying because they can’t get medical care is a daily reality. At a certain point, something will have to give, either in the direction of a revolution away from fear and towards hope, or a downward spiral towards a violent crash. So what do we do about it?

None of us is perfect, and we shouldn’t expect to be. Unfortunately, along with polarization in the realm of politics, it seems harder and harder to suggest a middle path without extreme defensiveness on the part of “crazy radicals” and “spoiled middle class whiners” alike. If you ask people for more, they often attack your lifestyle or dismiss your concerns as paranoia, or they claim your expectations are unrealistic and that the reason other people can do more is that they are better off. If you tell people that you think they may in fact be a little too fanatical for a meeting of the minds, they accuse you of being an uncommitted wimp who isn’t willing to make the real sacrifices. Is this fair? In either case?

I live pretty low impact compared to the average American. If the economy relied on people like me to regularly buy new things instead of repairing them or buying used goods and purchase services rather than mostly relying on friends or myself + wikihow , it would collapse instantly. However, I can do this in large part because of the excess a lot of other people engage in and because my priorities do not involve children or student loans. I buy fancy coffee. I threw away two egg yolks the other day despite listening to a TED talk on worldwide food waste issues. I do volunteer work regularly, try to engage in my local community, and seek out opportunities to educate myself about ways to be a more responsible citizen. I also waste much of my spare time creating social divisions by mocking hipsters, purchasing and enjoying cheap plastic goods made by underpaid workers overseas, and squandering what remains of my health and disposable income by drinking diet sodas produced by truly sinister corporations. I am both a shining example of progressive activism, and a terrible person and shameless consumer who is helping to bring the planet and society closer to its doom with every sip of my white (privilege) mocha.

There must be a reasonable expectation of effort without the shaming or accusations of lacking empathy. I can say without hesitation that on the whole, people are NOT doing enough. The evidence is all around us. The world is hurting way more than it needs to. It can be tempting to say there isn’t much we can do given the limited impact of consumer choice and the fact that one person recycling bottles isn’t going to change an entire economy based on waste and infinite growth. Besides, why should YOU live like a scavenger and give up most of the luxuries of the first world if no one else is going to? You’ll just end up hurting yourself for no reason, and don’t we ALL know a bitter martyr who took that path? Don’t be that guy. But do be a better guy. Everyone can do something a little better. Everyone can start living a tiny bit more responsibly. These small changes will not save the world, but they may help to create a social norm of responsibility. The battle you choose might not make everyones life better, but it will definitely make SOMEONES life better. It sounds trite, but it all adds up. And while you are making small changes and reevaluating your immediate needs vs. a brighter future and trying to figure out ways to make the BIG changes happen? Consider this. I believe that the most important thing anyone can do is to approach every problem with as little ego as possible. If you see being asked to give something as having something denied to you or being told you are “doing it wrong”, it will end with nothing but bad feelings and the same problems (now with 120% more spite and resentment!). I cannot begin to tell you how often I hear people proudly proclaim that they are going to do something selfish or bad for the environment, not because they want to, but because “fuck you hippie” (childish much?).

Who am I to think I can tell you not to eat veal or buy a third car? Heck, I’m no one. I’m not an authority figure, or your real dad, or your nagging conscience. I’m just someone asking you humbly to make kindness and responsibility to your community your priority over never letting anyone tell you how to live and confusing things you desire with things you deserve. I am also a fellow terrible human being, suggesting that I hope it’s ok to not feel shame for enjoying the good things that life allows us to have.

P.S. – Originally I wanted to write about the upcoming G8 protests happening around Camp David in Maryland. I decided against this, but you should totally check it out. Cool stuff is happening. This is some of it.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

Xiane here: My dear readers and friends, I have a question for you!

You may or may not know that there are two of us who blog here – xiane.org started out primarily as my blog, but the awesome and kickass Kali has been co-blogging with me for a few months now. We have a little by-line that shows at the top of each post, but it is small and easily missed. How can we better designate who has written what post, so that everyone knows which one of us quotes the music, and which one of us is doing service to he public at any given time?

Suggestions gratefully accepted in comments, via twitter, or facebook!

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

Honestly it kind of freaks me out to be saying anything at all. However, a link shared with me by a friend (a photography project focused on body image and identity) made me think about it a lot. My body. I am, generally speaking, not a fan. Being the sick kid a lot meant constantly having to deal with my physical self in the context of fighting something defective, diseased, and weak. When I was nine I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I was diagnosed with a pretty serious case of depression (later re-diagnosed as manic depressive) shortly after that. I went from being an abnormally healthy little kid who spent all of my time running around outside and exploring to a cripplingly self conscious teenager. Chubby from a mix of medication side effects and a mother so anti-body image that instead of promoting healthy habits (which apparently are just society judging you *eyeroll*) it was never mentioned when the latest failed attempt at finding an antidepressant that worked made me crave junk food and gain another few pounds binging (pretending a problem doesn’t exist is not known for being a healthy solution). I was often tired and in pain due to said depression and endless medications. I was a mess due to the fact that unlike all of the other kids TRYING to be cool, I really didn’t care how I dressed or put any effort into my appearance (I spent most of my young adult life looking like a female version of Kurt Cobain). My first boyfriend definitely made it clear he desired me, but he also constantly talked about how amazingly hot other girls (who never looked anything like me) were and pointed out flaws I hadn’t thought to add to my list of things I hated about me on my own. After seven years of that I figured I was the best he could do and that he had settled. Pile on top of that the additional damage and residual symptoms from three years of undiagnosed Lymes disease and it’s no wonder that I generally think of my body as an ugly weight rather than an important part of me.

Things have improved. I’m physically recovered enough to go back to the woods. I never feel more powerful and pretty then when I can fight my way to the top of a mountain and look down and know that my legs got me there and while my lungs and knees might hurt a bit, they work now. I am not in pain so much that I have to disconnect from myself and I am learning to feel more in control and trust my body to not fall or break all the time. I’m taking belly dance classes, something that if you told me I’d be doing last year I’d have laughed in your face. I have a friend who tells me I’m beautiful and is convincing enough that I sometimes believe him. I still look at other people and think “I wish I could have that body/strength/energy, just for a week to know what it’s like”. I still fight with my sicknesses, and have days where I hurt and am exhausted. I worry about how things will be as I get older. I still don’t love my body, but I’m starting to think that we could be friends.

I looked through these photographs of women for a long time and I thought they were so beautiful. Few of them would ever be considered for commercial modeling, some are older or scarred or tattooed. They have lived and their bodies show it. If you took my picture and added it to this gallery I would not stand out. That simple idea made me so happy when it popped into my head. I’m not average, or “normal” or like everyone else, but I’m not a freak.

Cool, huh?

Check it out. Maybe you fit in here too.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

One person’s theoretical discussion very well can be another person’s very painful reality. It’s something to bear in mind. Compassion should always go to the victim first.

If it was you, you would care.
If it was your child, you would care.

While you’re at it, please consider donating to RAINN.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

Armchair activism.

It is a term that some people like to use in a derisive fashion.
It is a term that some people like to use as a positive definition.

First, let me state for the record that I was inspired to write this by a Facebook post that concerned an activist group on Facebook, and the subsequent re-posting of items from them with their urging to “click like and repost.” I talked a little bit about why I repost these things, but I didn’t want to clog up someone else’s wall – this dissection belongs in my own space. I’m glad that this person brought up hir feelings, because I welcome the chance to talk about perceptions of Armchair Activism here on my blog. [so thank you! I like posts that inspire conversation!]*

Here’s my take on the situation. Yes, plenty of people think that merely re-posting a link or an article or a photo means that they are Activists Who Do Good Things… then forget all about the re-post and go back to their day and their Words With Friends game. Of course there will always be people like this.

But should that stop someone from sharing something that even momentarily gives them outrage? I don’t think so. Because even in that moment, someone else could be informed by the information passed along. Someone else could be inspired. Someone could be driven to do some research and then offer the resources that zie has available.

Honestly, that’s what I hope for even with my re-posts. I don’t expect to change the minds or hearts of many. In my circle, most of us are already social activists of some sort anyway. But if I can draw attention to something that even one person was unaware of… if I can create one conversation… if I can inspire one session of deep thinking, or even better, motivate one person to go out and create change – then my share was worth the bandwidth.

And another reason for me to share? It keeps MY mind and heart focused on what Needs To Be Done.

I can’t say that I am a spectacular activist. But in the past couple of years – ironically, since Facebook and Twitter have come into my life – I have discovered that I am much more motivated to take action. I write my Congresspeople and Representatives. I speak out when I see wrongdoings happening. I not only give my money to causes, I actively work to get the word out about them. I work for change in whatever fashion is appropriate and achievable AT THAT MOMENT.

I also passively share links and photos. Sometimes, that’s what you can do at that moment. It doesn’t demean the effort. It doesn’t negate the message. We do what we can, when we can. As long as we are working for social change, as long as we strive for a better world, ALL EFFORTS COUNT.

Yes, some efforts are “bigger” than others. But even a frickin’ ant moved the stupid rubber tree plant. One re-post could be the catalyst for change, as much as any march or speech or vote. It is all inter-linked. [see what I did there? I'm such a doof.]

So post the photo.
Link the article.
Take the poll.
Call the Senator.
Go to the march.
Make your vote.

Keep talking. Keep the important things in the consciousness of us all.

Even if it’s the very least that you could do.
At least you did it.

*editing to reflect that this is just ONE thing that I took from the original FB post. It was a nuanced post. I only expanded on this bit of my thought process about hir’s set of dicussion points.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

But it IS a big deal, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Everyone is talking about Trayvon Martin, and with good reason. That kind of thing would be fucked up even if race had nothing to do with it. Shooting an unarmed teenage kid in his own neighborhood? I’m surprised people aren’t even more pissed. However, it would appear race DID have something to do with it and that complicates the aftermath even more. It’s probably going to be a long, drawn out, messy sort of case that most people will still manage to forget about a week after it’s over.

As terrible as that event is, that isn’t specifically what I’ve been thinking about (though it was the catalyst this time). I was thinking about the effect being white (or not) has on what happens when you really might be doing something that, while not wrong, may still be illegal or at the very least unpopular. Note that I am among the first to call bullshit when an unpopular person blames their unpopularity on their race or gender instead of their grating personality. I can’t stand that kind of victim mentality, in large part because it insults people who do everything right and still suffer because of actual discrimination. And it’s annoying. And kind of insulting when you accuse me of it, since I try to only dislike people for who they are deep down inside. This gets me yelled at a lot by people who don’t bother to ask me if I just don’t believe discrimination is real in general before assuming. ><

It does exist though, and it affects what I can and can’t do, often in my favor. If I decide to commit civil disobedience it might be a little scary, but not so scary that I don’t feel relatively safe not only risking arrest but being a disrespectful bitch in the process. What are they going to do, make me spend some time in hand cuffs and do some community service? Unless things take a turn for the worse sooner than expected (or I move to Oakland) that is exactly what will happen. Let’s expand the scope to things with no higher purpose or altruism whatsoever. Loitering? It was my hobby for the majority of my teenage years and only a few times was I ever hassled for it. I’ve gotten away with more petty crimes and regular incidences of shoplifting than I can count, and looking like a 17 year old white girl for most of my adult life was a big part of having the balls to think I could pull it off. I trespass because I can say I’m lost and smile and then do it again next week with no penalty. I often walk around at night wearing dark clothing and carrying a backpack and the only time someone stops me it’s to make sure that I’ve heard of rape and know I’m dangerously close to bars full of frat boys. All this, even though I usually have a bright mohawk and a closet full of antagonistic home made tshirts, limited people skills, and have never once bothered to dress like a “responsible adult”.

Could I have managed all that if I was black, or latina? If I had a foreign manner of dress or an accent? Maybe. Probably not. Who knows? In any case, it would be something I would have to consider every time I set out to do something that might piss someone off. Maybe even when I was just doing normal things that shouldn’t bother anyone.

I’ll never know what it’s actually like to experience racial profiling first hand. I’ve watched it happen to friends and been told to “just let it go” when I start getting ready to unleash a torrent of abuse at the perpetrator. I respect this, because I know how it feels to have someone try and fight your battles when you just want to get through the day quietly, but I think I’ve found an alternate outlet for this frustration. This last November while waiting with the rest of Occupy Charlottesville for the police to show up and kick us out, I had a conversation with my friend Luis, who has an amazing talent that I lack. The ability to speak about volatile subjects with more diplomacy than I can usually manage to order a sandwich with. Seriously, he’s one of the few people I look forward to having awkwardly tense political themed conversations with.

“I’ve decided what I’m going to do with my white privilege.”

“What is that?”

“I’m going to get arrested for stuff like this as often as I have the opportunity. I’m going to be a huge pain in the police’s ass and get away with it.”

“Good. That’s what it should be for.”

I won’t go out of my way to get in trouble for nonsense, but I will make sure that I always have someone willing to feed my cat just in case trouble finds me. Judging from the messages making their way around the internet urging the white middle class to start purposely copying “suspicious” behavior and dress to make a point, others have had similar ideas. Join us. It might be for a good cause. Something even more important than antagonizing authority figures!

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

When you are cursing the evils of humanity, remember that you are angry because there are many humans you value and care for who are hurting. If you truly believed people were all bad you could just shrug and say we deserved all the injustices we face.

When you judge someone frivolous for petty complaints, remember that it is better to bitch about the little things while working to help fix serious problems then to rant about the tragedy of human suffering and do nothing to address it. We all have our defense mechanisms, and they can be what saves your sanity when shit hits the fan.

When you are angry and afraid, use it to your advantage. Anger can be bravery, fear can turn into motivation.

When you are waiting for a hero, remember that if we all woke up every day and tried to be the people we wanted to be when we grew up that heroes would not be necessary. Everything you do changes the world a tiny bit. How many ordinary people committed to daily acts of heroism would it take to change it a lot?

Speaking of kind acts, there is a wonderful organization called Books Behind Bars that provides books to people in prison. The way it works is that people write letters requesting books and then volunteers look through the donated materials and try to fill the request. I was trying to hunt down a book when I got a text asking me a question about the upcoming anarchist book fair in town. Suddenly it clicked. A gathering of people who love books and hate prisons! A perfect place to have a book drive. I was thinking maybe I’d end up with a few boxes, but instead (with 4 days to go until the actual book fair) I am already getting offers of hundreds of books from friends and acquaintances. I have a growing pile stashed in my bedroom that covers a third of the floor. A lot of the time these efforts to get people behind a common goal feel painfully slow to organize, but this is an awesome example of how a lot of people doing small things can have a massive effect, especially if your friends are as fantastic as mine. I am overwhelmed and inspired by it all.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

And where is the harmony – sweet harmony?

Shaping one’s mind into the place where a truly good person dwells is a never-ending process.

There are detractors of the idea of “politically correct” – people who say that “being PC” is somehow stifling to their right to Free Speech, too limiting, detrimental to the world that they [think] that they live in.
Since when is being polite and kind LIMITING? I mean – truly, are we all so inflexible and uncaring that we can’t come up with ways to say things that don’t hurt the people around us? Because here’s what I think: the people who yell the loudest about the world becoming too PC are generally the people who are the most likely to be purposefully offensive.

My goal is to be as mindful of how I move through the world, and what I leave in my wake, as I possibly can be. I admit, it is an endless, tough goal. We are bombarded from birth onward by societally ingrained language and actions, the gift of the kyriarchy. People we know and people that we love use language and promote ideas that are ableist, racist, sexist, heterosexist, cissexist, ageist, and many other forms of bigotry. As they say, you’re soaking in it.

Considering the heavy doses of kyriarchal thinking that we’re fed every.single.day.of.our.lives, it’s a big job to address all the twists and turns of bigoted thinking that has permeated our brains. And what’s worse – since it is all around us, and because of that relatively invisible to us until it is shown to us or more likely, we are the target of slurs – well, it is pretty difficult to break brainwashing, and that’s what’s happened to us. It’s funny that often we don’t get it until we’re the ones consciously hurt by it. I use the word consciously, because we’re ALL hurt by kyriarchy, all the time. We just don’t know it until that veil falls away and we can see/experience it all around us.

So here I am, someone who started the journey to Being a Good Person a long time ago, when it became abundantly, personally clear to me how fucked up society is… and my journey has been going on since I was about eight years old. I’m now forty-five. I’ve still got a long, long way to go.

We slip up. We say things poorly, thoughtlessly, insensitively, angrily, carelessly. We might have banished all racially-based slurs, erased a culturally accepted bit of slang for example – but accused someone of being so blind, or said that having to wear our shirt tucked in is gay [or ghey - don't even get me started on that little bit of "I'll add a letter and it'll be okay" slur-denial]. We might be the person who can shop off the Juniors rack at shops, who exclaims “I look like a fat pig!” while standing next to the friend who has never worn a size smaller than 22W since adulthood. We might be the one who says “I was gypped” or “You’re an Indian giver!” or tells everyone that your boss is so cheap a Jew.

But the thing is this: you CAN change. And you CAN apologize when you slip up, and be gracious about it, and make the note internally to remember how this feels so that it gives you incentive to not slip up again.
You can speak up when others use problematic language or do things that hurt others. Yes, it can be scary, and yes, they might get mad. But even if you don’t change the actions of that person, you may change the actions of others who overhear you.
And you can remember the thing that I have to remind myself of all the time… this is a lifetime task. We will always be striving to improve, to be better people. But really, I think that the effort is worth it.

So yes, when I write something like this, it takes a while, because I am combing it over for signs of the kyriarchy slipping through. Some might say that I’m a slave to being politically correct.

I look at it as my contribution to being socially correct. It’s doing my part to be a better person, even if that IS work for a lifetime.

I’m good with that.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

This is a concept I’ve been trying to figure out how to put into my own words for some time now, but I couldn’t think of the right way to do it. I’m still not sure if I can properly explain myself in a way that won’t lead to frustrating amounts of misinterpretation, however I’m going to try.

Over the past few weeks I’ve been trying to get involved in as many community organizations as I can manage to keep up with. Partly as a way to distract myself from tempting excuses for downward spirals, but also as an attempt to actually participate in constructing some sort of future for myself. I’m not career planning or setting up any solid long term goals or anything crazy like that, but I am trying to be part of my community in a more intentional way. See, if there is one thing I’d like to think I’ve learned over the past year, it’s that being independent and being able to take risks isn’t about distancing yourself from people and obligations. It is the opposite. It’s about knowing you can take those risks because you aren’t ever alone. I had a taste of that kind of bravery when I was in situations where I HAD to depend on people and (and this part is especially important) they depended on me. The idea that I was even capable of being useful to other people was revolutionary, and it made me feel secure enough to occasionally accept help without feeling guilty or weak. It was intoxicating, and I want more of that. I want to have family everywhere I go.

So, I’ve been dabbling. Getting more involved with Food not Bombs, working for the local homeless shelter programs, going to Books Behind Bars with student groups, playing with tools at Habitat for Humanity, and fighting my urge to hide and go back to being reclusive and fearful in general on a daily basis (a fantastic perk of volunteer work is that no one cares if you are a bit crazy or unable to commit long term). I’ve met some awesome people. I’ve learned new skills. I’ve discovered that friends are more valuable than pretty much any other resource, and sometimes the most useful thing I can do is to help connect two people who can help each other, even if I have absolutely nothing else to contribute. I have even come close to having entire days where I go without feeling like a terrible person for still not having what you could call a “real job”. Sometimes I miss the ability to be a stranger in my neighborhood, but on the bright side I’m relatively sure that if I ran into someone in a dark ally late at night we would just recognize each other and wave.

Is it selfish to do these things in part because it works better at improving my confidence and self esteem and for far for less money than therapy or alcohol? Probably. Am I going to let that stop me? Hell no! (I won’t lie, it is tempting to talk myself into feeling guilty when people have the nerve to thank me for doing things I actually enjoy, but I’m working on it ) The other thing I’d like to think I’ve caught on to lately is that feelings are rarely worth agonizing over any more than the amount of agony they cause on their own. They just happen, and there is nothing we can do about it but experience them. The danger lies in the stories we tell ourselves about them and the pathologies we invent to explain them. They might be completely valid and even useful short term, but if you let your narratives make choices for you instead of the other way around, you give up any hope of evolution. You can’t decide what you are capable of or where you end up, and people who claim it’s all about attitude still make me want to resort to violence, but at least we should consider that just because things have always been doesn’t mean they always have to be.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

tell me tell me how to be a millionaire

So, there’s this article from Bloomberg that we’ve been “discussing” over on my Facebook page. By discussing, I really mean, ripping into, because the amount of privilege and disconnect displayed in the contents of said article makes my head come perilously close to exploding.
Want a sample? Of course you do!

The family rents a three-bedroom summer house in Connecticut and will go there again this year for one month instead of four. Schiff said he brings home less than $200,000 after taxes, health-insurance and 401(k) contributions. The closing costs, renovation and down payment on one of the $1.5 million 17-foot-wide row houses nearby, what he called “the low rung on the brownstone ladder,” would consume “every dime” of the family’s savings, he said.
“I wouldn’t want to whine,” Schiff said. “All I want is the stuff that I always thought, growing up, that successful parents had.”

Well, now. My parents were pretty successful, after some years of struggling. We had an end-unit row home in a neighborhood that is often ridiculed by the rest of the Greater Baltimore Metropolitan Area. That didn’t matter, because we’d moved from an two bedroom apartment in an old, ugly apartment complex – two bedrooms that had my mom, stepdad, me, and my grandmother all housed without *too* many complaints, and previously had housed more of my family there, too. I went from sharing a bed with my grandmother to sharing a room with her. I didn’t know there was anything déclassé about that. Of course, I’d never even SEEN a brownstone, so I guess I was just ignorant that I was being deprived.

Maybe these luxuries can only compensate
For all the cards you were dealt at the hands of fate
So tell me
Tell me! tell me! How to be a millionaire
Tell me! tell me! How to be a millionaire!
[ABC, How To Be a Millionaire]

So we moved into the house in Hawthorne, and we had a big yard – for someone who previously had no yard at all – and a basement. And I had my own room, even if it was so small that my bed took up more than half the floor space. I was happy. I didn’t know it was a terrible thing to be sent to public school, or that we didn’t have a Summer home, or that our one major family trip to Disney was no Ibiza vacation. Hell, I didn’t hear of Ibiza for another 20 years, because WHO CARES? I mean, anyone with a real income and life who didn’t like raves back in the 90s, at least?

I went to public school. I was bored, and bullied, but I came out okay. I have NEVER had money. I have been comfortable, and I’ve been damn-near-broke [like now] and both of them are in NO WAY comparable to someone going from a salary of $300,000 to one of $200,000.

“If you’re making $50,000 and your salary gets down to $40,000 and you have to cut, it’s very severe to you,” Dlugash said. “But it’s no less severe to these other people with these big numbers.”
A Wall Street executive who made 10 times that amount and now has declining income along with a divorce, private school tuitions and elderly parents also suffers, he said.

Poor little rich folk, now you can’t have all the perks you once did? At least you have things you can sell – if you didn’t BLOW all the cash on dumb shit, that is.

It’s okay to be rich, if it wasn’t gained by illicit or immoral means. I both own a business and I’m a human being, so I am obviously aware that having more money is nicer than having less. But your whining that you can’t afford your Summer home or that you might have to tell your kids that they’ll have to attend public school? It is heard with very unsympathetic ears. Please tell the folks who are working three jobs to make ends meet your story, and see how they react. Please complain about your 1200 square foot Brooklyn duplex to the family who is living out of your car, and watch their expressions. Sit down with my friends who are struggling to find a job just so they can pay off all the bills accumulated while they’ve been out of work, much less to try and survive, and talk to them about what hardships you’ve had after not getting your expected [read: assumed - because isn't a bonus supposed to be just that, BONUS, as in something that is extra and unpredictable?] bonus for the year, how now you have to buy discounted salmon at the market. Boo hoo.

It’s funny. After reading over the article, and the responses about it on my Facebook wall, I realized that I have zero envy for these people. You know why?
Well, I may be struggling to pay my bills, to get ahead in any way, and to come away at the end of the month with any money left over at all, but I have something that these sad folks have. Actually, I have a bunch of things.

I am rich in friendship: I have the best people I can imaging surrounding me.
I am rich in love: I have a close, if small, family – and I have someone who adores me for who I am.
I am rich in experience: I have endless stories to tell. I have done so many things. I have no fear of trying new things, because I have had success in ways that the Wall Street dopes will never understand.

Even if I never succeed in a traditional, “Society” approved manner, I am a champion at life. And I don’t need fancy cars, expensive houses, and posh vacations to tell me that. Even if I had to live in my Jeeple, I will always be a champion, a superstar, a blazing success at living a full and amazing life.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

Tags: poor little rich folks

this is a true moment

In that darkness-filled moment

behind the stage, waiting
waiting to sing
waiting to sing free my soul

I recognize what I’ve waited for

why I wrote the words
why I breathed the tune
into life, into a message

I was waiting for this moment

the moment before
I gave to you my heart
delivered with a song

- Feb 15th 2012

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

Love is tricky business.

The desire to be loved can really trip one up. We’re already very good at fooling ourselves – or maybe that’s just me – and painting a prettier picture of reality than is warranted.
We overlook flaws. We excuse bad behavior. We weight our judgment so that the good aspects outweigh the bad ones.
However, we also are capable of exercising an infinite capacity to hope, to dream, and to start again – love is a great motivator.

I know that some of y’all know my story, or at least parts of it, when it comes to my love-life. I have had spectacular highs and lows. I’ve managed to give a disproportionate amount of my time to Peter Pan boy-children who couldn’t or wouldn’t grow up – until I left, of course. [Why? Because I allowed them to stay childlike. I gave them free rein to be immature in all the wrong ways in our relationships.]

Here’s the thing: I’m not the type to “mold” a guy into a “proper partner.” In fact, that goes against everything I am, and I would resent it greatly if it was done to me – so I don’t do it. And that’s why I’ve been with Peter Pan over and over. I left it to the guy to grow up on his own terms. Evidently, their own terms were actually the terms of other women. Heh.
This is okay. Really, it is. The problem didn’t lie with them – it was within ME.

What huh?

No, really. I am not excusing the stupid things that some of my previous partners have done. [I am also not enumerating them here, as this is not that kind of post.] What I am recognizing, and accepting, is my reoccurring role in this repetitive dance.

I chose men who were not ready to be men.
I chose to try and build a life with these men.
I chose to dwell on their perceived failings, instead of either being proactive and leaving, or being content with what was given.
I chose to stay and remain unhappy.

Again, this doesn’t excuse what things each one might have done. But I can look over my mistakes and recognize them as such. That’s why I am friends with most of my exes – because most of them aren’t bad guys at all. They just weren’t ready for the sort of relationship we thought we were making. Or maybe what I thought we were making. I don’t talk with them much about these things. It’s weird. And if they’re reading this, I hope that they get that I’m not trying to insult them. We were in the wrong places for what we were doing. It’s a thing.

On the other hand, there’s this thing that I have now. And this thing, it’s pretty rich and sparkling and amazing. And it was unexpected, it was a boon from the past to the present – a chance to fix what went terribly wrong before, when we knew each other as very inexperienced people who were scared and confused by who we were. Let me tell you, this goes far beyond anything I could have hoped for.

All I ever wanted in a relationship has been to feel cherished, as I cherish the one I love.
I wanted to be The One for someone – the one where, when he looks at me, I can see how he feels clearly in his eyes, in his expression.
I was told again and again that I expected too much, that no one really loves that way.

I am here to tell you that they were WRONG.

It’s scary to declare publicly that I am truly, deeply, sincerely loved in the way that I love in return. But it is true. And I’m here to say this:

Do not settle.
Don’t. Just don’t.
There is nothing more right than having the kind of relationship that you know you deserve. Whatever that relationship is for you, don’t settle for less.

May your lives be filled with love.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

Tags: love, the assembly

So I made a picture of some of the bits and pieces of photos that were taken during the event and conversations I had with my friends about it.

I’m actually amazed it took me this long to end up in court for something.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

This was inspired by a sideline thought I had during a conversation about communication with my friend Shawn. It was a good conversation. This navel-gazing didn’t belong there, so here it is. Heh.

I am so fucking torn, ALL the time. I constantly doubt myself.

Yeah, I’m talking about me like a self-absorbed thing… but the ironic thing is that every single fucking time I post something anywhere, I worry about it. Will it be taken the right way, did I say it right, who will get insulted if they disagree, who will have some smart-ass comment when I’m being thoughtful… I am stuck between this place of trying to be a smart, informed, caring person who is honest to the best of her ability, and being someone who is scared that she’ll be exposed as a fraud, someone who can be torn down easily, someone weak and not informed and definitely not smart.

We get all the conflicting messages:
You should believe in yourself.
You shouldn’t be so cocky.
You should be confident in your opinions and share them with the world.
You should shut up, because you have no idea what you’re talking about.
You should love yourself. You are amazing.
You should get over yourself, you’re nothing special.
You understand so much!
You don’t know shit!
You will be happy if you choose to be.
You are sad because you chose to be so.
People treat you the way you allow them to treat you.
You aren’t nice enough/you are too nice.

And so many of these cross-signals come from well-meaning sources! Friends who want to “make sure your ego doesn’t get too big,” and inspirational speakers who either build you up to impossible heights or throw all responsibility for your issues into your lap… your parents, teachers, bosses – who are “doing it for your own good” or praising you all out of proportion… well-meaning people and those who want to knock you down a peg, and sometimes those two groups are not so easy to tell apart!

Some people seem completely unfazed by all these conflicting messages, and are secure in who they are and what they do.

I am not one of them.

I had the ability to be assertive threatened, intimidated, and beaten out of me for the longest time. I went from a smart kid who was quiet but who trusted what she’d learned and wasn’t afraid to share it, to a young woman who wavered between being self-assured and being overly assertive in order to hide her self-doubts. And then, through a combination of events, I fell into a place where I thought so little of myself that I started treating myself badly, fell between being completely quiet or aggressive with what I thought, and then… I allowed myself to get in an abusive relationship where my opinions were shut down with a fist. [this is a vast simplification of that story, but you get the drift]

It has taken a HUGE amount of effort to pull myself out of that hole. I’m still hovering around the entrance quite a bit, but I’m sure this will be a life-long work in progress, so it’s okay.

But what can be frustrating for me is trying to strike that balance – finding the sweet spot between stating my thoughts confidently, without sounding like a pompous, opinionated asshole. It’s even harder when I’m in the middle of some debate about a subject of which I am both passionate and well-informed.

It’s always the well-informed that gets me, y’all. I read a LOT. I try to vet the things I post about, especially if I’m not quite sure, or if there’s wiggle room in interpretation. I really enjoy researching and forming a logical, well-constructed statement. I try not to post if I’m unsure, unless I state plainly that I’m unsure but this is what I think.

And then I sit there and shake internally. I wait for the dissection, the criticism, the assertion that I’m too full of myself or a smart-ass or not actually informed or a jerk… whatever the thing is that I fear the most at that moment, because I dared to have an opinion. And people, of course, capitalize on that if they can, so I try to hide it and probably look even more pompous or whatever.

It’s a catch-22. “Stand before the people you fear and speak your mind — even if your voice shakes.”* But probably be thought to be a bloviating asshole if you speak up.

I do speak up more often than not, now. I hope I don’t sound like an arrogant know-it-all.

* another funny quote from Maggie Kuhn – “Learning and sex until rigor mortis.” Hell yeah, Maggie.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

Tags: this is who we are

This will probably be a long and wandering post, sparked by a conversation I was having with Kali on Facey-Space.

I still struggle, even at age forty-five-omg, with how I define myself and what my Job is on This Here Planet. I suspect that I’m not the only one, and plenty of us wrestle with self-definition and exploration until the day we die. Talking about these struggles can feel self-absorbed, but as I said to Kali, working to improve ourselves is a gift to the world, and anytime we strive to enhance communication, we are doing a huge service to the world. Even the smallest effort – and I make no mistake in assuming that I am anything less than minuscule in the Universe – can have a great effect.

There’s something I have a great big honkin’ hard time remembering: I am only responsible for what I say and do. If I do my best to communicate my thoughts and feelings, and despite that, I am misunderstood, I can definitely go back and analyze where I might have gone wrong, how I might have miscommunicated. But between friends and loves, there should be a standing rule: the rule of Good Faith.

Good Faith means this – we should both be working under the agreement that what we say and do is not ruled by a desire to hurt the other. If I hurt you with my words, I promise that I was not striving to do so. I would hope that if you are my friend, you are working under the same parameters. And if you feel that I am not meeting that unspoken accord, then you should walk away from me. I would hope that you would tell me this first, but if you genuinely feel that I am working to purposely hurt you, why the hell would you stay around me? The same goes for you – if I decide that your words are chosen to inflict hurt, rather than to solve a problem between us, I will walk away.

There’s a reason for this. I have had enough of abusive people in my life who claim to care about me, but act otherwise. It is not an act of caring to say things designed to make me feel bad, just because you feel bad. There is a huge difference in talking out issues and people feeling hurt because of differences, and speaking in a way that purposely returns the hurt one feels.

And yes, I’ve been guilty of this. We all have. This is where that service to the world via one’s willingness to improve communication comes into play. Do you try to correct these patterns when made aware of them, or do you just shrug and blow it off? “This is just how I am.” Then I don’t need you in my life.

I don’t need anyone who would purposefully speak hurtfully to me.

I am not perfect. Hell, I had a heated discussion with someone I love last night… but we worked through our misunderstandings about what we were trying to say and what we wanted, because we care about each other and our relationship. We took the time to parse each others’ language and actions to improve our communication. It was a great gift to each other, even if it was painful at the time. The pain, however, was from dealing with a situation that made neither of us happy – not from speaking with venom directed at each other. This pain will heal cleanly. Pain caused by purposefully hurtful words would not.

So… I’m betting that you’re wondering what my pic has to do with this post.

Here it is: I have learned to love myself enough to kick people who treat me as emotional punching bags to the curb. Sometimes I still fail, because I don’t WANT to do it, you know – but eventually the truth will become inescapable and I will do the purge. I respect you enough to speak to you without insulting you or trying to push my pain or anger onto you; I respect myself enough to banish those who will not do the same for me.

Also, that photo made me giggle. So does this Julian Cope song, which is immediately what popped into my head when I saw it.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

Tags: i'm in love with my very best friend me

Morrissey ALWAYS has the right words for any situation.

So now you send me your hardened ‘regards’
When once you’d send me ‘Love’
Sincerely I must tell you
Your mild ‘best wishes’
They make me suspicious

It’s been a year. One year – actually a bit more than a year, but a year in living apart – of rebuilding a life, and waiting out the time until I can legally break the ties that bind.

This was a huge thing for me. I waited until I was 39 to get married. There was a promise there that had been given, something that was supposed to go well beyond what all the others had been willing to give me. Promises turn to lies. Vows turn to betrayal. It isn’t supposed to be this way. Almost every man I’ve cared about has betrayed me. It isn’t supposed to be this way.

You can only be strong for so long
It may not eat you but it will beat you
So this is why I tell you
I really don’t understand
This time

I’m pretty sure I have a handle on why people are unfaithful. I know there are a variety of reasons, and I’ve encountered a couple of variants in my dating life. It’s a HUGE reason why I waited so long to make the biggest commitment – too many times betrayed… Even though it’s the commitment I longed for more than anything. I wanted security, safety, something I could count on. But words mean nothing without action to support them. And vows are useless if one does not uphold them.

When I made the decision to leave, it was not an easy one. Ironically, it was the same motivator as the previous relationship that made me decide to leave – an ongoing ability to regain trust in my partner, after being betrayed. I am nothing if not stupidly faithful, and I tried – oh, I tried! – to believe in my partners; it’s all I wanted, to be able to trust again, to feel good about showering them with my unbridled loving.

At 45 years of age, I’m still scarred and scared. I try my best to create my own happiness, but there is a part of me that will always be looking for that love that comes from outside myself. I know it and recognize it and acknowledge that because of this, there will always be the threat of being hurt and betrayed.

However…

I refuse to let the mistakes and indiscretions of others rule my life. I reject the idea that I should just give up on love because we’re all flawed – because we can help to patch, mend, and fill in the cracks and flaws on each other, and I don’t want to lose that. I won’t hide my big heart away just because love is too often taken for granted. These things will not break me. They have not and they will not.

And I don’t mind if you forget me – because if you do, you’re not for me, and I’m not for you.

[funny aside - I did indeed lose most of my furniture in the break-up. However, this was a GOOD thing, which is why I was so amused by the illustration!]

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

Tags: this is who we are

I will not tell you what to do.

...tasty, tasty cake.

I will not tell you what to think.
I will not tell you where to go.

…unless you piss me off REALLY really badly, of course.

You have to figure things out for yourself. However, if you ASK me for my input, I’ll gladly give it. And of course, I offer opinions in my own space continually.

There’s a reason for this.

If you really want to understand a problem or situation, you need to live it.

I can tell you what *I* think about the possibility of your obsession with rotating widgets ruining your plans to become Emperor of Casselblatt, but that doesn’t mean that I know a damn thing about the situation – I’ve never even played with the widgets in question, and heck, I’ve never been to Casselblatt. Are widgets even a thing there? I am so out of touch.

So.

Why is it that people insist on doing the same to others? Let me give you a hint here, folks who LOVE to give advice: if that advice is not sought first, it is not welcome. Especially when this advice concerns a chronic condition that the advised party has been living with for quite some time. Yes, even if you too have that chronic condition. Just because – and I’m going to use my own self here as an example, as that’s one that I know well – just because you also have depression doesn’t mean that you have MY depression. You do not have my background, my chemicals, my medical history, my experiences with therapists/psychiatrists/medical professionals. You don’t know what I’ve tried and found helpful, what I’ve rejected, or what I can’t do for whatever reason. YOU. DON’T. KNOW.

I know you’re trying to be helpful. But this is not how to do it, folks. And no matter how much I appreciate your concern, this is the quickest way to get me to shut off and close down – and many other people feel the same way.

So how should you help? Firstly and easily, here’s the singlemost useful question you can offer: May I offer suggestions, or do you just need to talk about this?

This opens up the floor for your friend to say “I just am so frustrated and want someone to be sympathetic” or “I don’t know what to try next – here’s what I’ve done so far.”

This allows you to be supportive, and your friend to BE supported, and neither one of you will feel put-upon or rejected.

… And you’ll find that this tactic works well in many other situations, too. It is an effective way to provide needed listening and support. And I guarantee that your friend will appreciate you so much for it.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

Tags: advice, depression, the cake is a lie

I joined a group call this evening. The subject was about gearing yourself up & allowing yourself to share your stories with others. The leader of the call is a well-known writer in the creative/artistic field, with a bunch of colorful inspirational type books out there in bookshops. This was my first time on a call with her. It will also be the last time I call in.

She was taking some time with a woman who was sharing her fears of allowing her writing to be public, because she had been belittled and told she should give up. She was expressing her pain at being made to feel inadequate, and was very clear that people had gone after her pretty much without mercy for her temerity to stand out and call herself a writer.

And here’s what the “expert” said to this woman:

“It’s your choice to be hurt.”

This caused a great heat in my chest and I hung up, seething.

Yes, I can see where she was trying to motivate the woman to let go of the hurt.
But I am sorry, this sort of statement is not too far removed from “you were asking for it.”

Stop Hitting Yourself: Married To The Sea

This is highly irresponsible advice. It is victim-blaming at its core.

If she wanted to say “You’ll need to toughen up if you want to get published,” that would have been better stated differently. This is a speaker who talks openly about her own hurtful past, and her struggles to find serenity and claim her creativity. But according to her, it seems, one must dismiss any pain or uncertainty because it’s her responsibility to do so.

NO. It is her option to say “Why would you say that?” or “That’s a very cruel thing to say to someone you are supposed to care about” or “That’s not a good way to support me.” It is her option to remove those people from her life. But it is NOT the responsibility of the person who was abused to “just get over it.” Life doesn’t work that way, for one. [and it reminds me quite a bit of things I've been told in regards to my depression!] It was very obvious that the woman in question was very affected by the harsh criticism. It was irresponsible at best for the speaker to put the blame back onto her shoulders.

Look, there are a lot of self-styled guru types out there. There’s good info, bad info, and everything in between. I enjoy the advice and leadership from many of the coach/speaker/expert types, and I have learned a lot. But there is something to remember when you listen to these people: VERY FEW OF THEM HAVE ANY PROFESSIONAL TRAINING in Psychology, counseling, or therapy.

It would behoove THEM to remember that, as well.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

Tags: gurus, unlicensed therapist

…Freedom has no bounds.

I surround myself with people because I feel alone.

Nevertheless, I am always alone, inside my head.
I have *always* felt alone.

I grew up as an only child, as you might know from previous discussions. I was also awkward and geeky and had a too-big vocabulary with no understanding of when not to use it. That made me a pretty lonely kid. It wasn’t until high school that I finally “got it” as far as socialization goes, and I made some other friends – folks, for the most part, like me in various ways.

I went from there to the Hardcore Punk scene of mid-eighties Baltimore, where I found both kindred souls and a lack of judgement when I did not necessarily mesh with some of the internal groups. No wonder that I felt that I’d found home. No one cared if I was wordy or read – many punk bands were heavily influenced by literature or politics or alternative lifestyles or spiritual practices. [see the Philly band referenced, Ruin]

Still… no matter how hard I tried, I was always alone in the end. People go home, they go to sleep, they move on, they grow up, they die. All these things. And these are normal things, and they happen to us all – both the events and the being alone. But it ate at me. It still eats at me.

I submerged myself into bad, abusive relationships to fill that hollowness. I held onto “friends” that I should have let move on. I tried everything I could to keep loneliness from gnawing away at my insides. I didn’t realize that my inability to deal with the feelings is directly related to my depression, and one enhances the other. Once I groked that piece of info, I understood the hole inside – although that didn’t hasten in any way my ability to get rid of that feeling.

Juxtaposed our solitude
formed into community
always seek out others
because you fear to be alone

Of course, of course I love you
won’t you take me from myself?
Society and boundaries
are products of our weakness
Take away the structures
and the boundlessness remains

Freedom has no bounds*

We have no reason to need each other. We have every reason in the world to need each other.

What I’ve done to help fill this void is become VERY good at befriending people – good people, interesting people, creative people, fun people. Not perfect people, of course, but perfect for different aspects of my life. The Internet really helped with this; first chatrooms, then IRC – now Twitter and Facebook and Livejournal, various communities… and it’s moved into meatspace, with craft shows and Convergences and Pagan Pride Day and many other events.

I treasure every one of my friends, even if we’ve not met face-to-face.

But here’s what’s important: despite the fact that my emptiness will probably ALWAYS remain, simply because it is a product of my depression… I am whole in myself. I ache for others to be around me, and I am often lonely even when they are there, but I have learned to like myself and appreciate my own company. I am the most free when I am alone.

But if I feel that I am always alone, then I am always free.

*lyrics from “Freedom Has No Bounds” by Ruin

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

Tags: alone, this is who we are

Fireworks by Anna Cervova

I don’t do resolutions. I don’t like the idea of putting enormous pressure on oneself to perform, and change is often a slippery eel that likes to wriggle through one’s hands and slip away when least expected.

That being said, I don’t have a problem looking back over this year and then making some notes about what I’d *like* to achieve in 2012. Guidelines are great. Sweeping proclamations, not so much my thing. *grin*

I will be using the questions posed by Susannah Conway in Unravelling The Year Ahead 2012.

What did I embrace in 2011? Freedom. Change. Openness. Possibility.
What did I let go of in 2011? My marriage. Settling for “okay.” Allowing people I love to bully me, to the point of letting go of them if need be.
Identify 3 lessons of 2011.
1. Do what you fear. That’s where the biggest payoff is.
2. I can do whatever I put my mind to doing.
3. I can make enormous change in the world; I have more power than I ever realized.
Identify 3 highlights of 2011.
1. I moved back to Baltimore. That was a surprisingly good move on my part.
2. I vended two big shows locally and sold out both times, to my delight.
3. I re-discovered old, solid friendships and loves.

What did I discover about myself in 2011?
I am fucking strong in every way. I fear change but I come out so much better on the other side. I’m starting to learn to assert myself again, and it is GREAT.
What was I most grateful for in 2011?
Finding Rob L. Finding myself. Building stronger relationships with my mom & my friends.
Describe 2011 in three words:
Tumultuous. Vibrant. Confusing.

Here’s what else I have to say to the old year:
You could have broken me, but instead I became stronger. I started out the year in one place and ended it in an entirely different one – in every way possible. A lot of people have animosity toward you, but I think you and I are parting friends. Thank you for the lessons and for not totally kicking my ass, like 2010 did.

HELLO 2012!!!

What is my word for 2012?
Prosper!
How does my word make me feel?
Excited. Hopeful. Rich.
If I lived and breathed my word every day in 2012, what would be different for me?
I would feel and be even stronger and more successful in all aspects of my life.
Can I think of ways that I am already living/experiencing this word?
My business is growing. My relationships are amazing – making me feel more fulfilled in every way. I can see things changing for the better for me.

Fast-forward to December 2012. I am sitting in a café, musing over the last 12 months.
Where do I want to be…
… in my head? (work, dreams, goals) Confident. Feeling that I am really nailing this self-employed thing. Creating more art, creating more products. Making my business not only big enough to sustain me, but to feel like an unmitigated success. Feeling like I’ve got my shit together.
… in my heart? (relationships, family, friends, self-love) With more friends, more good times with them. Solid in the relationship with my love. Repaired from the divorce. On even, equal ground with my mom. Surrounded by awesome people.
… in my physical world? (home, health, hobbies) In a home of my own. Healthy, eating well, getting plenty of exercise. Being incredibly creative.

Can I think of four more words that will support my Word this year? They could be anything from inspiring words to names of people to things I want to invest in.
Rob L. Xiane. Confidence. Love.
[you!]

There’s more.
But I’m keeping that for myself. And you should go and download the worksheets and find your own answers. What do you want from the year to come?

I hope you’ll share 2012 with me. There are amazing things to come.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

Tags: 2011, 2012, unravelling