Blueprint

So the question, how do you keep it real in the short time between Mama's womb and the tomb? That's what life is about - What kinda person you gonna be, what kinda witness you gonna bare, what kinda legacy you gonna leave; what kinda stories you gonna situate yourself in before you go? That’s the funkmaster.” – Dr. Cornel West

I love Cornel West, because of his “uniform”, because of his style of speech, and most of all because he exemplifies moral courage. His public display of ethics is deeply inspiring. The way he brilliantly combines sophistication and intellectualism and communicates it in a “blues man” kinda way, makes him the perfect public intellectual. Unfortunately, it’s clear that he operates strictly from the male perspective. But I can still admire him for his very admirable traits while not excusing his lack of enlightenment in that one very important arena.

This entry is intended to answer the questions posed in West’s quote above. Just for me. Not for you. I realized that I haven’t yet figured out who I want to be. I seem to be holding on to some past identities that were formed at a time when I was just letting life happen to me and not setting any intentions. The hard part is, my past is a part of me. I was myself then and I am still myself now. My experiences, however counter-productive or chaotic or frivolous or stupid they may have been, they shaped me. They had an effect. So, I can’t erase them, nor do I want to. I had a lot of fun and met a lot of interesting and a few, very significant people. But now, now it’s time to write my future, set my intentions. So, what kind of person do I want to be? What will my children say of me after I’m gone?

Several “wants”, a couple of “ams” and a few “wills”:

I want to help all disadvantaged beings live better lives.

I want to inspire people.

I want to create beautiful things.

I want to learn about the whole world and all the people in it.

I want to love as much as I am capable.

I want to connect deeply with individuals and the natural world alike.

I want to value my life as much as my children’s so that I will feel just as obligated to           myself to make my life as rich as I can.

I want a big family - one full of love and empty of dysfunction.

I want to be honest, but with finesse.

I want to be bold and brave without feeling self-conscious.

I want to be more disciplined and determined so that I can see my ideas come to fruition.

I want to learn how to do something really, really well.

I want to look beautiful and interesting but according to my own standards and whims.

I don’t want to let my gender put me in a box.

And while we’re on the subject, I don’t want anyone to put me in a box.

I am here to break the mold.

I am here to be a subject, not an object.

I will not fade into the background.

I will be seen and I will be heard.

Visualizing Victory

My life was in constant turmoil from age 19 to age 28. That’s probably a fairly typical description of most young adults’ lives, and I know that my personal experience was both more difficult and easier than others depending on who you talk to (I say this to acknowledge the relativity of my experience, but from this point I will only speak about my own feelings).  During that time, I blew around like paper in the wind. I worked at around 25 different jobs. I moved around 30 times. I drank a lot.  I fell in love thrice…which made me smile a lot, dream a lot, and cry and scream a lot. I gave birth to two babies during that time period and also didn’t give birth to two babies. And in between the babies, I even got married. I was engaged once, before my husband proposed, and desperately wanted to marry a different someone for 6 long years in between the two engagements. I’d call that tumultuous, wouldn’t you?!   I finally took the reins of my own life and it was because of three people: one to exhaust my love and faith, and reservoir of sanity, one to tell me I was a lost cause, and one to believe in my redemption whole-heartedly. And as much as it hurt, and still hurts to this day, that I had to decide to stop pursuing what I was pursuing and change directions, it was the right choice and it proved to be the most utilitarian choice. I am generally happy and fulfilled. That didn’t seem to be in the cards for me towards the end of that near decade. Now, I feel a great sense of love and security and meaning and so do my children. However, I’m still haunted by my former life. I have regular “what if” dreams. I mourn the loss of tragic love, of drunken debauchery, of carelessness and care-freeness. I feel out of place in the sanity of my life. But I go on. I don’t fuck it up. I constantly choose to not regress. Does that mean I’m still in a stage of cognitive dissonance? And if so, when will I finally, truly identify with goodness and sanity? How many more books, and yoga sessions, and coffee talks, and philosophy classes, and acts of love, and self-discipline, and olive branches will it take for the cycle to complete itself?

Feminine Justice

I have a strong desire to say fuck gender norms all together.

Jeff likes to run down the postgame highlights upon returning from teaching class and I like to listen. As of late, I’ve been feeling more and more enlightened about how deep-seated the social construction of gender is. How disturbing it feels to realize that you’re subconscious has been manipulated so thoroughly that you live in a social and psychological prison…all because you were born a girl in Western society. Then, I happen upon Nancy Tuana’s book Woman and the History of Philosophy at the library and it further unravels the wool.

Jeff never shuts up about really interesting (and usually important) shit and that’s one reason I like him. He gets the gears turning in my head. So, now I’m really inspired to stop worrying entirely about the beauty standards I’m supposed to uphold.  I want to embrace the freedom that I technically have to opt out. If I like the idea of chopping my hair off until only a few inches remain, I should do it. If I want to wear an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants one day because I’m on my period and all I want to be is comfortable, I should. If I feel like big tall boots, a ruffly skirt and a chopped up band tee, that’s my prerogative.  Then again, if I want to wear on over-sized t-shirt and sweatpants EVERYday, I should allow myself to be comfortable.

My husband is convincing me that I should not feel pressured to conform and should not be burdened with constantly looking a particular way for someone other than myself. But the irony is, it is my husband whom I mainly dress up for and yes, others, but their opinions mean far less to me.  It is my husband whose gaze I worry about losing. I feel like I have to compete with a plethora of young female students every semester wearing coochie-cutter shorts and boobie shirts to school with the bodies to justify it. They haven’t had any kids yet, they’ve never breast-fed, and they have no “fine lines,” only perfect curves in all the right places. And no, I’m not overstating.  I witness it every Monday and Wednesday as a student myself. Not all of them, but a good number. And that’s enough to make wifey think twicey about letting go of long hair, make-up, and sexy clothing. Taking my personal history into account, I will likely continue to be emboldened, so I think I can safely predict a leap to total freedom. Lest we forget: I am rebelliously inclined.

Not Demanding Perfection (My Current Experience As an Unschooling Parent)

What is it like to Unschool 3 kids when you struggle with mild chronic depression and ever-increasing levels of anxiety? It’s difficult. I question everything. Okay, so I happen to find questioning a virtue but sometimes it can drive me even madder. Although I question and doubt and worry about my energy level affecting them negatively, I always soothe myself by repeating the mantra I adopted from Holt, “They’re still better off here than they are at school.” Honestly, there are many things that can be improved upon, but I can only do what I can do. I’m not mentally, emotionally or physically capable of shuttling 3 kids from here to there and everywhere like some moms I know. We don’t have the money to put the kids in homeschool a la carte classes. I mean I’d take them to a class or two a week. I have before when we had a little more money, but the reality is, they’re happy and they’re developing their creativity beautifully everyday that goes by. They are learning to be self-sufficient critical thinkers. They’re picking up solid morals. When we participate in social actions together, when we help a friend, when we help a family stranded on the side of the road, when Jeff and I won’t stand for treating our fellow family members unfairly or unkindly in even the smallest way……when we actively reaccess our own behaviors and decide to let peace and love rule, when we let them hear and see controlled conflicts and how they are resolved, we are teaching them the most important knowledge they need to become good people. Many months ago, when I told an old friend that I didn’t care for standardized tests, she asked me, “Aren’t you curious to know whether they’re learning on the same level as schooled children are?” No, not really. It’s clear to me that they are much more knowledgeable about a lot of topics than traditionally schooled children are and there’s not a doubt in my mind that they would have trouble passing some arbitrary test on certain other topics. But I’m not the least bit worried…anymore. I used to be. But I’ve since evolved from that particular worrying. My children are bright and they love to learn. They are quite thirsty for knowledge and that’s right where they need to be. They don’t have a taste for certain things but that’s okay. We’ll keep introducing them to the least desirable stuff in subtle and creative ways, just like we do with food, in case their taste buds change. They’ll learn them when/if they want to and when /if they need to. I strongly believe that teaching them values, how to think critically, teaching them that they are loved and that they are wonderful people and that they can do amazing things with passion and practice…..is enough. It’s more than enough; it’s the key to happiness - theirs and the world’s.

Time to Keep On Truckin'

I’m beginning to be convinced that in certain instances drastic measures do indeed need to be taken in order to change your fate…not that it doesn’t hurt significantly. I’m not exactly proficient at letting go, however, if pain is necessary to feel true pleasure then letting go is part of the package. Some of us don’t come from ideal backgrounds or anywhere within sight of ideal and sometimes the best thing you can do to beat the odds is to become unpredictable. Sometimes you have to clean house and then choose with great thought what and who you will decorate your life with. I vow to stop living in the past, whether consciously or subconsciously (no more reoccurring nightmares please), and to embrace the present moment with a positive future always on the horizon. I still want to try to make amends with past mistakes and to redeem myself in whatever ways I can.  I want to try hard to be a good friend to at least one person (more if I can learn to multi-task better).  I want to try to clean my house a little more so my chi can flow more easily.  I want to accept my husband for who he is and who he is not and stop relying on him to provide for my every need.  I want to do brave things so that I will become braver. I want to continue to work out more so that I will feel more confident (and maybe attempt a bikini in the spring). I want to work hard in college so that I develop my interests and hidden talents; so that I can act wisely and thoughtfully in the world. I want to ensure that I tend to my children’s needs better; that I provide them with a rich existence and plenty of opportunity to develop their own interests and talents.  These things can’t happen unless I continue disciplining myself to keep filtering out the destructive forces, choosing the supportive forces and recognizing the good that’s already here. I will become strong if I practice being strong.

On Not Being 20.

I am obsessing about my looks for the first time in my whole life. Yeah sure, all along I’ve been mildly concerned as the majority of female human beings are, but I was never sick over it. I’m not exactly sick over it now, but there are definitely increasing levels of anxiety and plain shock over my aging looks. I can deal with the gray hair. In fact I loved the gray hair…that was until it was paired with tiny, yet obvious wrinkles and ever-so-slightly sagging skin. This is sooooo not fair. Just when I begin to feel like I’ve got my feet on solid ground, something else creeps in to challenge my self-esteem.  On the brighter side, all the walking in D.C. resulted in a few pounds being dropped according to the Publix scale that still strangely exists in the foyer of most of their grocery stores. Why the hell is that thing there anyways? Don’t they want you to buy more food so that they can make more money? Because let me tell you, when I get on that scale, I’m never thinking “Alright! Time to load up on some more of that delicious Publix Premium Ice Cream!”  Even when I miraculously do end up weighing just a few pounds less than the week prior (because without fail, I weigh myself each and every time I’m there), I just think “Okay, so how can I get that number to go down even more?” I don’t know, maybe diet food is more expensive and that’s their logic.

            When I was in my late twenties, I was going through a metamorphosis and eagerly awaiting my thirties. I wanted to be a full grown adult. I didn’t want to be lumped into the reckless, immature, binge-drinking, superficial Peter Pans that I’d always associated with as a young person (a few specific individuals aside). But now, the old lady syndrome is really making me rethink this whole grown-up thing. Is it crazy that at 31 I’m already wanting to “turn back the clock”? I’m not proud that I have recently begun to wish for Botox and various nips and tucks, but it’s true. In Savannah, I looked around at all the cool art school kids and could no longer ignore the reality that I’ve done everything ass-backwards and thought about how awkward I feel at school amongst a sea of 20 year olds, how I can’t go back and do things differently, how I have to figure out a way to bridge my role as a 31 year old, married, homeschooling mom of 3 with the me that only now has the opportunity to blossom and emerge.  I sense more awkward stumbling ahead. Maybe only a few embarrassing outings and strangely fitting fashion ensembles will suffice… if I’m lucky.

A New Limbo

Trying to find my footing between fun and responsibility, between old friends and new friends, between what’s right and what’s wrong. I love my kids. I even like taking care of people from time to time. I like the way we live our life as a family. I couldn’t have found a better match or a better person than the man I married. I’m proud of certain personal accomplishments I’ve had over the past couple of years. However, there are some things that are not quite right that I know can mostly be worked out. It’s just that at this point, not having the slightest clue as to what it looks like over this hump feels like I have sand in my pants or that I’m wearing a wool sweater 24/7. Let’s just say, it’s uncomfortable. Here’s what I wish: I wish I had a good relationship with my parents. I wish my mom wasn’t so controlling and angry. I wish my dad cared more than he does. I wish I was able to remember more often that I can only change myself and not others. I wish that I had more love in my life. I wish I had more grown-up fun in my life. Jeff said something funny to me the other day and it really put things into perspective, at least at that moment. He said something like…”Let’s assume for a minute that there is a God. And if there is, he’s throwing his hands up in the air saying ‘Hey, you guys wanted some company, so I set up you up with your perfect match and now you’re telling me it’s not enough? Now you want more friends?’ I laughed so hard because it’s true!  But we’ve determined that we do need friends, at least a few. I want to be able to do fun things with friends again. I want a friend that I have chemistry with. I want a friend that wants to do more than just sit around and drink cocktails. I mean, don't get me wrong, I wish I could afford a six pack right now but that's not all I want to do. So far I found one. She fits the bill quite well. I didn’t even see her coming either. On the other hand, there are people in my past that I would like to reconnect with but I don’t know if that ever works. Either they aren’t interested anymore or we just don’t have enough in common to make a new connection. I also don’t want Jeff to think that I’m going to regress into the immature, selfish, self-destructive state that I was in before we hooked up if I hang out with some old crew. I don’t want that either. I guess I kinda want something in between. But what the hell does that look like? Ugh! Hey you, could you just hold this thread as I walk away? Thanks buddy. And when the time is right, I’m ready to be pro-active in the world. I want to carve out a fucking name for myself. Make my mark, ya know what I mean? I don’t want to just be this kid’s mom or this professor’s wife or somebody’s crazy ex-girlfriend/sister/daughter. You get it, I’m sure. I suppose most of all, I just need more hours in the day. More hours to be, do, and reflect.