Finding peace and understanding

The more things change, the more they remain the same.

Photo by BigFoto.com

But, this phrase isn’t always true. It isn’t set in stone. Things move forward. Sometimes things seem like they are moving a step or two backwards, then they move forward again.

I just left a school board meeting tonight, feeling slightly traumatized. I had 13 years of being picked on at school for being “different.” I wasn’t gay or transgendered, so I don’t know those exact struggles; I was someone who was different through the alcoholic and abusive environment I grew up in. So, I have a deep amount of empathy and relate to anyone who feels marginalized by society.

I’ve since entered this world seeing that we are all different. We are equal, but different, unique, ourselves. The only calling we really have is to be true to who we are inside, and to be kind, considerate and caring to others.

So much fear was expressed by people in that school board meeting tonight. People fear “them.” Yet, we are all freaks, strange in our own way. We are all human, with our own insecurities and struggles. We have to be tolerant of other people’s intolerance.

Some of the arguments against the transgender inclusion policy reminded me of some of the same arguments used against African Americans during the civil rights struggle. [What will keep our women/girls safe against this onslaught?]

Fear clouds the mind, and when fear is in full force, anger closes the heart against humanity, fairness, and peace.

Let go of fear. Accept that we are all different, but equal. Let love, kindness and peace guide each of you to your greatest strengths.

Finding My Voice

One of the reasons I've been scarce from this blog is that each time I feel

close to finding my voice (IE: finding my way to writing again), it seems like something shuts me down again.

Sometimes, it's my own attitude towards work; it drags me down and I can't focus on expressing myself in positive ways.

Other times, it's a more deep rooted pattern in my life. When I was a child, besides witnessing my dad's cruelty towards my mom, she told me more than I should have known about her life, and her marriage with dad. I was emeshed for a few years of my life. I couldn't formulate my own opinions, thoughts or feelings. Anytime I tried, it was shut down by mom. {This isn't something I blame her or dad for; it was a traumatic situation for everyone involved.}

I spent my 20s and 30s getting free from this unhealthy bond. However, I have found within the last year, that my mom uses my weekly phone calls as a way to review her life, her childhood.

It's as if I'm her biographer, and she telling me these stories of her life for the first time. She's telling me them with a purpose; as if she intends me to records these stories in a permanent record. I keep telling her she needs to get a notebook and write down these stories - to tell him within her voice.

I keep suggesting this because I don't want the burden of holding her stories anymore. It is not my responsibility to tell her story.

I feel as if I lose my own voice each time she expects me to unravel the mysteries of her life.

I have felt my creativity clog up so many times this year, and I couldn't understand why.

I know in my heart, this has to be why. This unspoken burden of being my mother's chronicler. 

Yet, I know, I can't do that. I can only tell my own story. I could never accurately tell anyone else's. I shouldn't expect myself to do do. 

Now that I realize this, I feel at peace within myself. I no longer have to keep this expectation.

What defines you?

Mr. D asked the Communications class, "OK, who can tell me something about me?"

Many of us looked up at the Mick Jagger poster hanging next to the classroom clock. One classmate tentatively raised his hand and said, "You like the Rolling Stones."

"Wrong," Mr. D replied. "That isn't about me. How would you know that for sure?"

This scene popped across my mind as I drove home tonight. I was thinking about how some people seem to etch their identity from the TV shows they watch and the music they listen to.


I should state that I'm a passionate pop culture fan, who adores movies, and appreciate music. I consider many rock lyricists the writers of musical poetry.

One of the groups who's music has been a touchstone in my life has recently recorded an album. It has been surprising, since they had broken up over 20 years ago, and it really seemed that this would be unlikely to happen.

They are going on a short tour to a few smaller venues. Some fans are upset they are not going to their town, and others are wishing they were playing at bigger concert halls.


Why are these people dissatisfied? Rock stars (as well as actors and sports figures) do not OWE us anything. Why do people think they should have an expectation that celebrities should do this or that? Just because we buy a few albums doesn't mean that these talented folks have to go to every major metro area to play a show.


All art forms (whether it's music, a painting, or an acting performance) is a gift that the artist chooses to share with the world, with us. If this gift reaches out and touches our soul, shouldn't that be enough? Shouldn't we be grateful that we are a part of a great continuum? We are never really alone. If we look and listen, art does communicate this to us every day.

I made a decision a few years ago. I don't want to be defined by what movies I like, what music groups I admire. I want to be defined by who I am. Letting go of society's expectations,and embracing the qualities that make me uniquely me.


So, Mr. D, I get it. It took me 25 years, but I understand what you were trying to illustrate. [I sure hope other students are able to see the lesson you were sharing with us.]