The Straw That Broke The Camel's Back

The phrase derives from an Arab proverb, a cataclysmic event cause by something inconsequential. This saying has also lead to the phrase, "the last straw." Aside from the animal cruelty aspect, which is slightly disturbing, it is great wisdom. So many times we traverse difficult roads, I know I have, deaths, divorce, fire, debt, unemployment, sickness and struggle. While we struggle our friends surround us with love, support and we seem to make it through. There are times however, when something so small, so insignificant that it shouldn't really affect us, happens, that we take a nosedive into oblivion. The straw, that one final straw. I know it holds true for me, I will sail through hard times, with my family at my side, and then the dry cleaners are closed when I really need that shirt for a job interview...or that last check I wrote toppled my checking account into oblivion...that I fall. 

Why can't the camel just say, "back off?" Because we are not in control, and that is the hard part. I adore control, I love it when things go my way, when I am right, when I get the job I want, the man I want, and the jeans I want fit. I love it when my life, a theatrical event, goes off smoothly, when it calls for a standing ovation. But this is not the way of life, it is messy, complicated and doesn't always go our way. We muddle through the best that we can and hope that when the final straw falls, we have family and friends there to pick us up, give us a box of Puffs Plus, and send us on our way. 

My dog is at the vet right now, under anesthesia. She was clawed by another dog at the dog park. I do not have the money for it, and the other dog's owner can only contribute a portion. Last night I felt that helplessness as I laid awake at 1 am (I never have sleep issues) worried about buying groceries and paying bills, while looking for a job and keep my house in order. The vet bill was the straw, that moment when I lost control over my tightly budgeted life. I couldn't write it off, and it wasn't going away. The only thing left was prayer, and I prayed and fell asleep. It seems so simple this morning, prayer. Please help me juggle life, please help me with this personal straw. I know that I won't be underemployed forever. I know that my degree and all of the hard work I spent attaining that degree will be useful some day. It is just not today, not according to my time frame. Today I need to focus on the simplicity of prayer, not the please help me get what I want prayer, but the help me to go through this with dignity and grace.

God

Help me to travel this path with grace and dignity

Help me to allow you to guide me while I walk.

Help me to slow down and witness the beauty of the moment.

Help me to work with you and not against you.

Help me to love and to allow and to relax into this day.

Give me some space please...

Lately I have been noticing something about myself. I need space, physical space, psychic space and emotional space. I don't know if it is because I am one of those highly sensitive folk, but I become physically uncomfortable around loud people, or anyone either in a vehicle or in person, coming too close. I tend to pick up on what others are feeling (tailgaters and their anger) and get easily distracted (clicking of someone typing on a laptop in class). Is this the ramblings of a mad woman? Is it because I am a country girl, and grew up with a big backyard and the woods in which to play? Or maybe it is a personality flaw, that uber sensitivity that allows me to keep others at bay (black flies don't count!). 

I think as a woman, my culture has taught me to be small, to take up as little space as possible. Look at the passengers in a  bus or a train, the men have splayed legs, taking up more space than allotted, and the women usually cross their legs, in effect, making themselves smaller. I have issues with anything or anyone that comes too close, be it a black fly (mean little suckers that dive bomb and attack in Spring) or the man standing behind me in the grocery line.  

Elaine Aron has written many books about the Highly Sensitive Person, approximately 15 -20% of the population who notice subtleties, is very intuitive, is sensitive to pain and to noise, among other things. Here is a list of traits on Elaine's website. When I took the quiz on this site, I came up overwhelmingly highly sensitive. It can be a hindrance (I am scared of car horns for what they do to my nerves!) as well as an asset. I can "read" people's emotions, and that can be very helpful, saving me from many scrapes. 

Personal space is a huge trigger for many people. On her website, Dr. Juith Orloff writes about how to cope with space invasion. "Why can personal space intrusions make our blood boil? Aside from being obnoxious, rude, dangerous, or unhealthy, they violate a primitive instinct that we’re not safe or respected. When we experience such violations, our brains actually react as if we were still back in 50,000 BC. Research shows that personal space disputes such as neighbor feuds about overgrown foliage are evolutionarily prompted responses aimed at guarding resources and ensuring survival." She  has a list of personal space invasions on her website. These include: telemarketers, loud cars, air pollution, tailgaters and graffiti. Knowing these triggers helps us to let them go when they pop up. Why do people get so close? Are we programmed or is it a personal issue?

Time Magazine answered the question: Why is so uncomfortable to be close to strangers? "Evolution seems to have programmed this discomfort via a brain structure called the amygdalae, a pair of almond-shaped brain regions deep within each temporal lobe that control fear and the processing of emotion. It's your amygdalae that keeps you from getting so close to another person that he could easily reach out, gouge an eye, and then drag your woman off by her hair." So we can blame it all on our ancestors, something we, as humans, excel at.

So I am a highly sensitive person that has a highly developed amygdalae. No one will be gouging my eyes out anytime soon, just please, if you see me driving, cute little blue shoe-sized car, don't honk. I am off to the woods.

Maya, In Memorium

I wrote this in 2007, to my hero, Maya Angelou (4/4/28 - 5/28/14).

AN ANSWER TO MAYA ANGELOU

What could a mere poet be
who speaks of rivers
and rocks and trees?

To a young girl
who might not believe
she is sturdy, whole and free.

What if this poet told her

“Give birth again
To the dream.”

So this girl would know
how to touch the stars
when they appeared too far to reach.

If this poet rose,
and danced and sang
and prayed.

Would that young girl
see that she could
rock the world with her whispers,
unafraid?

To that dear poet
who pulled herself from beneath
and said to this young girl
it was all right to believe.

To that rock
that river
that tree –
it is with tenderness and love
that I take root and grow,
to be happy
to be joyous
to be free.

The Writing Life

I was doing so well, writing everyday, at least a few lines...but then...but then. It only takes one day to put a kink into a nicely forming habit, and I know it takes 28 days to form a habit, I had been writing everyday for two months, been practicing my oboe everyday for four months. But that day arrives, that day when the outer world trumps the inner. The day when you just want to go to bed or eat more dinner, or watch mindless tv, and that healthy habit is put on the endangered list. For me, I cannot skip a day, because one day becomes two, and three and soon I am no longer (insert habit here). Is this a unique trait, or something we all do, once we jump off the train, we cannot get back on without really trying hard (aka running after a speeding train). This month, Runner's World Magazine is sponsoring a Streak, run at least one mile per day from Memorial Day to the Fourth of July. I will try it, after all I know that once I have the momentum, I will keep it up. Is there wiggle room though? I know from past experiences that when I don't practice my oboe or run, I lose the momentum. But when does the habit become an obsession, or an addiction? It probably has something to do with balance, and balance is concept I haven't quite mastered. I am an all or nothing gal.
The word balance originated in 1250 - 1300, Old French, meaning a pair of metal dishes (a balance). In order to balance one must have equal weight in each of the metal dishes. But how does one balance an entire life. There are many aspects, physical, spiritual, emotional and there are only 24 hours in a day, minus 8 for sleeping. This is all just a ruse however, I could sit here and write about balancing my life, having healthy habits in healthy proportions, but really, how long does it take to write a haiku? I am making excuses for my lapse. Excuses, which have taken longer to compile than it would have taken to pick up my daily writing habit again. So here we are, today I am back on the seesaw, and I will write a poem:

the wind is balanced,

the skies, the shore, the ocean tides

an ebb and flow

as if words, once spoken

could return and I

could float gently down

the river with open arms. 

Am I a Republicanophobe?

I am scared to write this post. First I am afraid to admit that I am prejudiced. But more importantly I am afraid that you, the reader, might be a Republican, and Republicans scare me. Why? Because, like other people who are prejudiced, I have an all or nothing mentality. Now is when you might get angry with me. But please don't yell, I am attempting to come to the root of my prejudice and abolish it. This morning, on Facebook, someone told me not to go all "right-wing" on him. It was, to me, a staunch tree-hugging, animal rights supporting, pro-choice, educated woman, an insult.

When I picture a Republican, I picture a gun-toting, anti-woman, racist,  homophobe. And people with guns scare me, and sexist, racist homophobes scare me. Therefore, Republicans scare me. And it all really just comes down to fear, fear of the unknown. I have tried to understand Republican economic theory, but I am a child of the 70's and I watched as the trickle down never trickle down. I read about huge corporations paying nothing in taxes and hiding their billions in profits in off-shore accounts. I watch as so-called Christians ignore the poverty stricken in this country, "they should work harder, they are moochers." When I picture a Republican I picture a person, devoid of compassion for those less fortunate. I watch as Republicans vote against the Equal Pay Act, as they cut assistance for needy children, and as they demonize women and teachers. This is what I see, hence my all or nothing mentality. I am no better than a racist, I let fear of the "other" guide my opinions. It comes down to the fear of the unknown. As a woman living in a sheltered community, I do not come in contact with many Republicans.

How can I abolish this extreme prejudice? It all comes down to the "us against them" mentality. If I focus on the differences, how can I begin to find compassion for the other, that person who holds different beliefs than I? After all, the world would be a boring place if we all believed the same things. The first step then, is to find common ground. So, my dear Republican reader, kindly help me out, help me to find common ground. I am a runner, I know, left turn, bear with me. As I runner, I race. When I go to races I run with thousands of other runners. We connect through our mutual similarities. I have no clue what political party my fellow racers belong to, we come for the common joy of running. When I pass a runner on the road, I am kind, I connect, I wave, I move over or slow down, after all it is a fellow runner. Turn right again, what commonalities can I find with my fellow Republicans? If I can find this, I might be able to soften around my opinions, my fears and my Republicanophobia.

From: http://www.informationisbeautiful.net/visualizations/left-vs-right-world/

Accomplishments

I am pleased to announce that Crescendo Chorus has won the prestigious Alice Parker Award. Two movements of a piece I wrote, along with composer Cheng-Chia Wu, were part of the winning repertoire. Hearing my words sung by a thirty person chorus was enough of an honor, but I am so happy to hear that the chorus has received recognition.
http://worldclassmusic.org/crescendo/About%20Crescendo/chorusamerica_award.htm

Always Right?

Do I always need to be right? I suppose if I were to answer honestly, yes. However I could say no, I am open to learn from others, to be humble and to grow in new and meaningful ways. But this is true if it is on my terms. I do like to be right. I like that feeling of superiority when I am proven right...see trickle down economics doesn't really work, we are all still floating around in poverty and the Earth is really round, not flat. There is a sort of rush that comes out of winning a good argument, especially if the little people come out on top. But what ends up happening is that I separate myself from others. I am not only refusing to speak to anyone in that other political party, but this person was mean to me and that person cut me off in traffic, so I need to ignore them too. 

Don't get me wrong, I have strong beliefs, and abandoning those beliefs would mean that I abandon certain populations in a time of need. I will remain staunchly vegan as I cannot condone the killing or abuse of animals. I will not support a political candidate that is racist, sexist, or neglects the voiceless in my community. I do not believe that we should be able to walk into Target with an oozie because of the second amendment and I will not stand by while our public education system is taken over by corporations that wish to stuff our children into slots. But I must live surrounded by people who condone the above, for a whatever reason. If I place my energy into judgement, I am perpetuating the problem. I am doing as they do. I am being mean, and I am trying to be right. So what does all of this mean? How can one balance advocacy and activism with humility and acceptance? I think it could become easier if I can let go of my constant need to be right? 

I need to take a look at the  feelings come up when I am wrong. Shame tops the list. I know it is hard to admit I am wrong, because I someplace deep within my twisted psyche I equate mistakes with inadequacy, that somehow if I am wrong I am damaged. This deep - seated belief has served me in the past; I have always strived to earn good grades in school, and I have made sure that I am meticulous in my work. But the "I am right" monster has outlived its purpose and has kept me from forming relationships with people who are different than I. This monster has kept me in a place of continuous judgement. 

"When I am right I make myself the hero of my own story." A wise man said this the other day. This I can relate to. I need to allow myself to be just another human, stumbling around on this planet we call Earth, making mistakes, and changing our minds, growing and changing, evolving. After all, who wants to admire a hero or heroine who looks reviles the other characters stumbling around the story? A hero can still go out and slay dragons, but hang out with those people who may support dragon advocacy. I am beginning to digress. How does one balance advocacy and humility? Any advice?