Monday, April 4, 2016

I wrote myself a poem in 2006...

I wish I knew where you were
perhaps I'd show you how beautiful the flowers can be
or the majesty of the cold you have to bear
I could perhaps spend an hour and devour you in and write you poetry,
playing with the sun and the way it lands softly upon your hair
in just such a way as to make,
not you more beautiful,
but the sun more beautiful.

But my words would be like alcohol
an artificial boost to make your day go by


PS
These words i leave here for you
never explaining myself very well
if i seem distant it is because I am
sometimes
afraid that what i know is true
that within each person lies our beauty
but i write with my heavy hands
and my heart narrow
and i sometimes speak, or act, or do, quite the opposite of you

Monday, March 28, 2016

Hear me roar

"That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain't I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man - when I could get it - and bear the lash as well! And ain't I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain't I a woman?"

While Sojourner Truth may have been speaking on behalf of women of color when she delivered this speech at the Women's Convention in 1851, the words still ring true today. Only today, I'm also thinking about what makes us "women" instead of "girls".

I'm proud to be a woman. I understand how we've created two genders and you must fit into a box to be accepted by mainstream society but I'm not talking about that; this isn't about ciswomen or transwomen. It's about identifying as "woman". But if we who identify don't call ourselves women, we're doing a disservice to ourselves and to our past and future.

When do we stop being girls? And why do fully-grown, adult women choose to call themselves "girls" (or as one particular woman self-titles, "Lady Gurl", as if adding lady and changing from an 'i' to a 'u' makes it any better or any more urban, and urban I am not, having grown up in small town rural Wisconsin and now living in small town rural Vermont)? Are we not proud to be women? 

I'm a few days away from being 32. My body has been through a lot - more than the "girl" in me has been through. It's done things, and had things done to it, physically and sexually that are well beyond girlhood. I'm certainly more experienced and worldly today than I ever was as a "girl". I bleed, happily and proudly, each month, an honor of what my body can do and a sign of its powerful importance in and connection to the world. When I can no longer bleed, I'll be a crone - a wise woman reborn into a new power not to be overlooked. 

Then there are the practicalities of being mature. I own a house. I have a career. I own a car. I pay down my debt each month. I make decisions about travel, what dentist to use, what therapist to see. I’ve smartened up about my birth control and sexual partners. As a girl, this would not have been possible for me.

As a woman, I see the world in a different light. And I want to be seen differently. As a girl, I needed protection and comfort in a way that I don't need today. I needed someone to provide for me. I had a naiveté about the world. I was more vulnerable than I am now and certainly nowhere near as wise or experienced.

I don't know exactly what it is women like about referring to other women - or themselves - as "girls". Of course it's fun to throw around sometimes, casual and with fewer expectations for adulthood or responsibility... a la "Girls night out!" or Beyonce - "Who run the world (girls!)" But embracing being a woman is something we should wear with honor and pride. In a world where everything and everyone is labeled, I own that label, like I own the label of Feminist. I am a Woman Feminist. I may be a woman who is trans, I may be a woman who has entered menopause, I may be a mother, or I may have chosen not to be a mother. I may be a woman who is not able to be a mother. I may be a woman who is educated in academia or educated by experience. I may be a woman who is not a feminist. I may be a woman who is married to a man, married to a woman, or married to someone who does not prescribe to the binary code. I may be white, black, brown, yellow, or albino. My hair may be short or long, cropped and bobbed or a curly mess. I may have no head hair. I may have breasts large or small, or none at all. I have pubic hair; that is one sexual trend that makes no sense. As a girl, I was bare down there. But as a woman, I have pubic hair and I leave it there (many women forget that it's there for a reason). We shouldn't shave our pubic hair to please men. Men shouldn't want to have sex with a woman whose sex organs look like adolescent and women should not buy into that fantasy. It's a dangerous slope. 

I am a woman and that is the only label I really need. I will one day be a lady. Before I was a woman, I was a girl. But I'm not a girl anymore. I've outgrown that, as I've outgrown lacy ankle socks and pretty pink bow tie hair clips and Barbie dolls and the label of "tomboy"- a label that says, "You're girl by gender but you don't act a certain way so we don't know what to do with you so we'll call you a mock-boy". Growing up, strong women surrounded me and I admired them and emulated them. They were quiet pillars of strength in a time when women were fighting for equality. That has carried on in me. 

I don't need anyone to lift me over puddles or open doors for me. I can dress myself, think for myself, express my opinions, travel alone, use my right to vote, drive a car. I embrace my sexuality and I respect the power of my body and mind.

Let's embrace it together. Let's embrace this label of Woman. I am woman, hear me roar. When I was a girl, I wanted to be that woman, to be heard and seen and respected and valued in a way that a girl isn't. Maybe the transition happens when entering menarche, maybe it is moving out of your parents' house, or maybe it isn't until your 20's. But I've been in womanhood for quite some time. Teach girls that it's okay to be a woman. There is a role of being a girl and there is a role for being a woman. And there are roles for being a crone. We need them all and all have incredible wealth to share and receive and heal and transform. 


As we leave Women's History Month, the one month to recognize all of the incredible women throughout our history - those silent and those vocal - don't shy away from it. Whether by choice or by birth or by spiritual connection, being a woman is not something to be ashamed of but something to celebrate, embrace. Let’s claim it, and reclaim it. 



“In the red tent, the truth is known. In the red tent, where days pass like a gentle stream, as the gift of Innana courses through us, cleansing the body of last month’s death, preparing the body to receive the new month’s life, women give thanks — for repose and restoration, for the knowledge that life comes from between our legs, and that life costs blood."

Friday, February 26, 2016

Practicing kindness

It's hard for us to be kind to ourselves. We put ourselves down, judge our appearances, compare our personalities to others. We enter into troubled relationships, we stay in them, and then we agonize over the future. We languish in the social media doldrums. We believe we are not worthy, are worthless, or unworship-able. Why?

I haven't figured it out. Some think it is a past trauma, our unconscious self directing our actions, or how we were raised. I am positive there are dozens of people right now who could point to articles, books, and studies about kindness to ourself. I'm not going to detail them there. They've been written about and I believe them. Whatever it is, for many of us who struggle with treating ourselves kindly, it is easier to expect the worst than it is to relish in the good, the calm, the loving, the safe, the worthy.

Too often, we can be kind, gentle, and empathetic to strangers or the most vulnerable in our population through our work, volunteerism, or faith. When we go home, like me, we set high standards for the people in our lives. After all, they are a close part of our lives. Our caring extends to them and we feel like we need to nurture everyone around us.

The problem with this is that we forgo our own souls to keep a sense of routine or peace with our family members, loved ones, and close friends. In reality, this may mean we hold back on our opinions, or we pick a fight over the mundane, or we sacrifice our dreams for the love of someone else. We put their needs above ours. Our lives take a different course for them. We allow ourselves to be used, hurt. They lie to us, twist the past so they are clean.

They sound awful, but it happens every day. They do this because they suffer. They were hurt, are hurting, and refuse to accept responsibility. It is cowardly to shirk the privilege of controlling your life, your future, your happiness, and that of the ones around you. We, I, let it happen.

I strongly believe recognizing this is the first step. By no means do I understand or practice kindness to myself yet, or even to all those around me. I allow the behavior to continue, accepting it each time, but gaining a little window of clarity that widens with each revelation. Eventually, I know the behavior, the anger, the lies, the deception, and the hurt will seem like a distant, fleeting memory. Right now, it feels like the only thing I can concentrate on is that hurt, pain, betrayal, jealousy.

There is hope and now that I'm conscious of how I've been beating myself up, how I've let myself be used, I can change. I wasn't ready then but I'm ready now and ready to talk to others about how to start being kind.

It's not easy and it takes a lot of work but we all deserve love and compassion. We need to dig deep but it's there. We are not our environments. We are not our family's history or mental health. We are not a failed relationship. We are not the fears or insecurities of others. We can be kind to ourselves. But we have to let it and we have to acknowledge it. We can have the love we deserve, but we need to allow it. To open ourselves up to it. To make inner self-care a priority.

It's a process. But I'm hopeful. I'm acknowledging it.

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Are we asking the right questions about immigration?

A moment of cultural/ political seriousness. I've listened to politicians, "experts", and regular folks talk about immigration. But I have to ask, are we asking the right questions about immigrants and the workforce? I don't claim to be an expert but whenever I hear "experts", they seem to be missing one key point.

It's true that there are many immigrant and undocumented workers working in America. It's true that undocumented and immigrant workers often work for less than others. But whose fault is that? I understand the difficulties that contractors and business owners face: if this group can do a job for $10,000 and another group can do the same job for $15,000, which group do you hire? The business decision is to hire the group that costs less.

That is, of course, unless you're anti-immigrant / undocumented (code for "brown-skinned Latino") worker. There are many who think the problem is this sector of the workforce - it's always the undocumented workers who are coming for "our" jobs. "They" are driving down wages. Do we ask why? My question is, why are people/ companies/ developers hiring undocumented workers who are willing to work for less?

If we as a country are serious about stabilizing our economy, and if Republicans are serious about sealing off our southern border and expelling anyone from south of that border, why are people still hiring people willing to work for less?

The problem isn't the person who is asking for less money to do a job. The problem is the person doing the hiring. Wages in our country haven't kept pace with other costs; housing, food, and transportation costs have all increased but wages have stagnated or even fallen. How is that possible? The "job creators" like to go on and on about how they create jobs out of thin air but who are they hiring?

The blame is always placed on those willing to work for less. If we want to stop giving people a reason to come to America, how about we stop hiring them?

My tone may be harsh but I'm not against immigrants or migrants coming to America to do jobs that frankly, many Americans aren't willing to do. Shoveling pig shit on some industrial farm in a plains state isn't desirable. I'm not saying it's a job anyone wants to do and I think it's worth more than $9/hour. But again, it's the business owner who should be faulted, not the person who needs the money. We should be striving to pay our workforce adequately, valuing the work that is done and the person doing the work - not the dollar attached.

So let's start asking the tough questions, especially of the politicians threatening to deport undocumented workers. Let's be honest: we need them. A reevaluation of our foreign policy along with a commitment by "job creators" and business owners to pay living wages and re-think their hiring practices is what's needed more than shipping a huge segment of our population and economy back to civil wars and poverty. But I'm not the expert, nor am I running for President.

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Taking root

For almost a year, I've been throwing out ideas about how my life should proceed. Where do I live? With whom do I live? What kind of work do I want to do? What kind of work should I do? Do I change everything all at once? Who do I want to be?

Heavy questions but not insurmountable to answer. I made rash decisions then abandoned them. I interviewed for positions but turned them down. I sought advice from friends, family, Facebook, anyone who would sit down with me.

But I'm still in Vermont. Still in my for-sale-house. Living with he-who-shall-not-be-named. One thing I have changed is that this week is my last week as Regional Planner with a professional office job. It hasn't sunk in yet... the excitement, the joy, is still a surreal freshness. For the indefinite near future, I'll be a consultant. I have a registered business and an Employer Identification Number. I have an office (my house) and an email address. I have my first client and tonight I interview for my second. I have people who know I'm available. Whether this is a long term thing or not remains to be known.

What I do know is that I'm excited and terrified. For the first time in a really long time, I'm excited about work. I'm terrified to the core with failure: What if I charge too little for my time? What if I'm destitute? What if I'm making a major legal/ taxation failure? What if I gave up a steady job with health and vacation benefits only to find myself bankrupt and poor? What if I don't yet have the expertise?

I haven't let the potential for success win my thinking - what if I build up a business? What if I have too many clients that I can't manage the work? What if I end up finding a really great full-time job during this time? Who knows what could happen. It could be great or it could bomb. The thing is, I'm trying. I was very unhappy in my professional office job with benefits. The work was mostly great but the atmosphere was unhealthy for me. When I first started, I couldn't wait to get to work. I would get there at 8, 8:30 and didn't want to leave at the end of the day. I was excited every single day. Slowly, my excitement waned. Today, I dread going into the office. I avoid talking to most staff people if possible. When I do, I find myself unnecessarily and involuntarily angry or curt. I volunteer for meetings and committees for any excuse to be with the public. I skim the newspaper wondering what horrible thing is being said about my organization this week.

I will miss it, for sure. But when we get to the point in our work where we feel that awful about it, why drag it out? As Americans, we spend an exorbitant amount of our lives at our jobs. I know I am in a position of luxury where I can take this leap. I know others have taken greater leaps or wish they could but they can't. For me, this is the boost I needed. A boost of confidence: people want to work with me! People value the work I do! As I'm leaving LCPC, I'm starting to hear great things about myself. I hadn't been hearing that - only negative things about our organization and my work - and if the positive side was more vocal, it may have made a difference. (I've been printing out and collecting the accolades from colleagues - maybe that's narcissistic but it's building my confidence back!)

I'm still conflicted about public service. Part of me thinks I never want to do it again. As my boss told me (very negatively), I wear my heart on my sleeve. I need to learn to "hold my cards closer". I disagree that we must posture and strategize. I'm honest and sincere. If I could've changed the way my face betrays me by now, I would have, but I can't. I don't want to be a pawn in a political game. That's not fair nor is it responsible to taxpayers. I want to be efficient and accomplish results. The current "game" that LCPC is playing with some municipalities isn't benefitting anyone, neither the municipalities, LCPC, nor our constituents. I'm ashamed of the behavior that is happening.

The other part of me really values the honest people who work on the public dollar. It's not easy. The expectations are high, as they should be. We have an important responsibility to act in the best interests of the "public". That includes everyone - every taxpayer, every voter, every property owner, every renter, every worker, everyone who receives, uses, or benefits from "the Public Dollar". In short - that's all of us. I guess this is also what drives my political leanings, too. I believe that we should be looking out for every single person and that equity means we take care of one another, even if it conflicts with our personal or religious beliefs.

I digress.

So far over the past two weeks, I've worked full days from home without turning on the TV. I've done laundry, washed dishes, cleaned rooms, and completed overdue paint jobs. I've read for pleasure, I've cooked and eaten balanced meals. I've spent great time with four legged best friend and sidekick. I've kept the house warm. I've journaled, tried my hand at my poetry, and written letters. I hope to keep this up because it feels so great not to be tied to an office. And to be able to participate in the public process once again. And to not have night meeting after night meeting after night meeting. And I feel great - mentally and emotionally happy.

If I'm doing something different in a year, there is probably a really good reason for it. I don't expect this will be easy but if all we do is work ourselves to death and we don't even enjoy it, or we go home stressed, anxious, and overworked, what's the point of life?

So I've decided to take root. I still don't know if I'll be in Vermont in the future but I'm not so antsy to leave. I love northern Vermont - it's beautiful, mysterious, tough, unique, and with an incredible specialty that isn't for everyone. I'm calling my consulting business "Rooted Solutions" because the root to our problems can be found in our community consciousness, wherever we land. Let it grow and you'll discover amazing possibilities. You can find me rooted in this place, for now at least.