Well, I've started and not finished two other posts. I get going and they eventually make sense to me, but in a way I'm positive would never make sense to anyone else. I tend to do that occasionally. That and with so much on my mind, it's hard to focus on writing about any one thing.
This last month and a half or so I've been way too focused on the status of my life. I think we tend to do that when we get to a certain age. Everyone around us seems to be well on their way to the next step in life and for whatever reason, we are left behind. I know there are lots of extenuating circumstances right now, but it's to the point where I wanna sit there and go, "Seriously?!"
There are stages in life. Early childhood, grade school, teenage years, college, early twenties, post graduate years, marriage, adulthood, babies, raising children, empty nesting, grandchildren and a whole bunch of others I'm sure we could put in there. We go from one to the next just trying to make it through. So what happens if you get to the end of one stage, and stall at beginning of the next?
That's kind of what I think a lot of my generation is facing. We graduate high school, go to college, and then get stuck in a rut. I think that some of the reason for that can be attributed to the socio-economic status of the world. One thing affects another which affects another and it just goes on and on. Because the economy is so bad, there are fewer jobs. College graduates are having a harder time finding work. That means they are working jobs they didn't go to school for that pay much less than what they were hoping for with a degree. They're living at home longer because it's cheaper. (I'm a perfect example of this) They are simply "hanging out" instead of exclusively dating because exclusively dating someone can lead to marriage and a lot of us can't afford that. All of it can be attributed to the fact that the economy sucks.
In my opinion, we're stalling because we're afraid. Our world has become so much more uncertain. I remember being a child going to elementary school and the only thing I worried about was whether or not the boy I had a crush on had noticed me...and getting good grades, though that was admittedly secondary for me. Now, I feel like Scarlet O'Hara from Gone With the Wind. She got so focused on securing her future, that she didn't have time to worry about anything else or what might get in the way. "I can't think about that right now. I'll think about it tomorrow." I don't think it's just me that feels that way either. I think that's why there are so many singles and college graduates who just get...stuck.
Ideology has changed somewhat as well. It used to be that people would go to college, get married, finish their degrees, and then go to work. Now, people are far less inclined toward marriage. The examples that we see from celebrity couples and even our own parents or friends parents don't really instill much confidence in the institution. Some people believe that they are just not meant for marriage or anything greater than a dead end job with no potential to climb higher and be part of the "1%" that have earned the right to be the 1%. Don't get me started on that. I'll get angry.
What I don't understand is why we are so afraid. People have been doing the hard things for years. We are not the only generation to suffer through hardship and our hardship is certainly not the hardest. Each generation, each era, has had it's own struggles. They were just as difficult for them as our struggles are for us. The people who suffered religious persecution in Europe and fled to America, their struggles were life changing to them. The pioneers who crossed the great expanse of our nation dealt with fear, sickness, death, and all the things that the wilds of our country could throw at them. Many of them didn't make it. Our country has faced numerous wars that encompassed numerous generations and with each war came more sophisticated weaponry. We've faced a depression before that was mixed with a serious drought in our farm country. We've faced corrupt politicians, intelligence wars, and weapons that can destroy entire cities in the blink of an eye. I know there were people who avoided the challenges of their time, but I don't think it was to the extent we are facing now. In each era, with each struggle, I'm positive these people were afraid. I don't think any young man who signed up to go to war didn't feel some twinge of fear...but they went anyway. Why is it so different now?
I can't avoid talking about the "99%". I've said it before and I will probably say it again. My generation is spoiled rotten. I'm not going to place blame because I don't think it can be attributed to any one person or group of people. My generation has begun to think that, because they've been given everything instantly throughout their lives, they shouldn't have to work to get anything. There is a small percentage of kids my age who believe that taking the money from people who have RIGHTFULLY EARNED IT is the "moral" and correct thing to do. I am not part of the 1%. I work for what I have. I don't know how all of the 1% got where they are, but I'm fairly certain it wasn't because they stole money from people who were richer than them. I think most of them were blessed with genius moments and capitalized on it. The kicker for me is that these Occupy Wall Street, "99%" demonstrators wouldn't know what to do with themselves if the 1% hadn't done what they did and created the things they have. There'd be no cars, no computers, no gasoline to run the cars, no iPhones...we'd be in the 1830's. I guarantee that if that "99%" were in the shoe of the 1%, they'd be singing a different tune. Why are they so afraid to get their hands dirty and go to work? Why are we so afraid to put in a little elbow grease to make our lives work? Life has never been easy. Why do we all of a sudden think it should be?
My generation is going to destroy us. They're already well on their way. We are so hell bent on "getting our share", that we are forgetting the important things. The funny thing is, I think most of my generation would agree with me and not the OWS retards. We're just too afraid to stand up and say something about it because of how it might sound. I don't want things handed to me. I don't want someone to say, "Here, Kati. You haven't done much, but you seem underprivileged so I'll give you your brother's money because he has extra and needs to be generous." That's called Communism. I didn't earn that money, my brother did. I didn't earn the billions Bill Gates has. He earned it. He worked for what he has. Why can't the "99%" understand that they have just as much potential to be the next Bill Gates? All it takes is a little elbow grease...and courage to conquer your fear. True, you may not end up a billionaire...but you get to experience life. I can't think of a greater reward than that.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Fighting the Darkness
Life can be full of negatives. It seems to me that it's easier to find and remember things to be sad about, but much more difficult to remember the good things. We see it every day of our lives. Life is essentially a roller coaster. For some, controlling that roller coaster comes naturally. For others, it's like riding the Texas Giant or the Titan at Six Flags. You know the twists and turns and steep dives are coming, but you can't do much about it strapped into your seat on the car. You are at the mercy of someone else's design.
I've been spending a lot of time watching people. Sounds kind of creepy, but it's how I learn. When I watch the things people do, it helps me to learn the things I need to work on in my own life. Right now, what I'm noticing, is that there is an awful lot of the black clouds that come with negativity. A lot of us are having a hard time finding something to be positive about. I'm sure there are a number of reasons for this, but I wanted to offer my perspective.
Please don't think I'm delusional or retarded for this theory. I've spent a great deal of time feeling it out, sometimes very literally. You see, there's a very simple principle that exists within the laws of physics. Darkness cannot exist where there is light. However, the darkness is not destroyed, it's simply laying in wait for the light to go away so that it can once again rule the space light had previously occupied. The same can be applied in our lives. When we are thriving and happy and on a good path, our lives are filled with light. There is no room for darkness. When we struggle and wander on a path that is less than desirable, the darkness creeps in.
Darkness is subtle. In a 24 hour cycle, the night comes on only as the sun slowly sinks into the horizon. It is a gentle descent into the blackness of night. So it is with our lives. We make little mistakes that eventually become bigger. It's rarely a full on blast that takes out the sun in our lives. That generally doesn't happen. I think that's because no one intends to be a bad person. I believe that everyone is essentially good and wants to be a good person. It's just very difficult once you've begun to let the darkness rule you.
On the opposite end, have you ever noticed how quickly the dawn expels the night? When the sun breaks over that horizon, everything is bathed in light. The darkness disappears. The good things in life outweigh the bad. They will always dispel the darkness inside of us. The only thing holding us back is ourselves and how thick the clouds are around our hearts.
I realize that some of this is probably not making much sense so let me explain. I believe that some people are very literally followed by clouds of darkness. In the Bible, Genesis records that 1/3 of the host of heaven were cast out when Lucifer rebelled and led them astray. They were forbidden to come to earth to gain a body. When you think about how many people have thus far lived on this earth, and how many more we still have to come, 1/3 of that number is a staggering amount. I don't even want to try and think about how many that was. Mostly because I stink at math, but I digress. When these spirits were cast out, they followed the Morning Star. That was one of Lucifer's names. Lucifer was such a rebellious child that he did what all rebellious children do. He decided that if he was going to be miserable, then everyone else should be too. He has set out from that moment to make our existence here a living hell. We have something he can never have and it makes him angry. He blames us and God and Christ for his present state. He doesn't know how to accept the blame and responsibility for what he's done. Sound familiar? He is the reason for all of the misery in the world. Well, he's partly to blame. We all make choices, but I'll get to that later.
I believe that that 1/3 host of heaven is very real. I believe they are the darkness that follows people around. Here's why: I have felt them. Like I said, please don't think I'm delusional or retarded. I know it sounds a little crazy, but it's not that hard to imagine. I have led a less than perfect life. I strayed from the light for a lot of years and am still trying to find my way back for some things. There have been times where I swear something has been following me and whispering negative things in my ear. Most of that revolves around my own self worth and appearance because that is where I struggle the most and they know it. Were I too actually think well of myself, I would not have been in some of the situations I've found myself in. Anytime I've seen a picture of myself, I have self-criticizing thoughts, and as crazy as it sounds, when I have those thoughts, I'm also thinking at the same time that I'm crazy because it's not that bad. Why else would I think I'm ugly and a horrible person? I truly don't believe that...but something is trying to make me.
That's not the only reason I think they're real. I have been around other people I would swear are being influenced by that same darkness. These are people who would normally not do the things they do, but are constantly being whispered too and are too weak to say no. It's really not that far fetched. What else would those spirits be doing? Misery and jealousy are terms coined specifically because of those people. They are the definition of misery, jealousy, depression, anger, and hatred. They are the clouds surrounding our hearts and souls that keep us from finding the light.
There are ways to silence the darkness. Just stop doing what you know is wrong. Like I said, I've been down that path and it is much easier to stay stop doing the wrong thing than to actually stop sometimes. It is very difficult and it can physically hurt. Living in darkness is infinitely easier than trying to live in the Light. As someone who's struggled for a lot of years to find her happiness, I can testify to how much easier and enticing the darkness is, because the other aspect of the darkness is that it conceals the bad. In the Light, you have to face what you've done and try and fix it. Your soul is like your body and has to heal and it is a slow process...but it's worth it.
In the book, The Hobbit and the subsequent Lord of the Rings trilogy, there is a creature named Gollum. When he enters the story, he is a shriveled, pale, sickly creature who cannot exist in the normal world. He lives in a cave that is dark and dank. He is a slave to what he calls "my precious". It's a ring possessed by the spirit and evil of it's creator Sauron. When he found it, it whispered to him. He killed his friend to possess it and spiraled downward every day after that until he became what Bilbo Baggins found. Gollum did not begin as Gollum. He gave in to the whisperings of something much darker until he could no longer think for himself. The more he wore the ring, the more he fell to the influence of evil. It's the same for all of us. We never intend to become the Gollum's of this world. No one ever wants to be that miserable. The challenge, again, comes when we try to find our way back to the light. Gollum tried. He reverted briefly back to Smeagol, which was who he was originally, but ultimately could not sustain that life. It was too difficult for him and being Gollum was much simpler. Ask a drug addict or some politicians and they'll tell you the same thing.
So the solution is simple. Stay away from the dark. Don't touch it with any part of yourself because it is very enticing and it will drag you down with it. If you are already there and are struggling to get to the light, don't give up. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it's hard. Yes, it sucks...but yes, it's worth it.
I've been spending a lot of time watching people. Sounds kind of creepy, but it's how I learn. When I watch the things people do, it helps me to learn the things I need to work on in my own life. Right now, what I'm noticing, is that there is an awful lot of the black clouds that come with negativity. A lot of us are having a hard time finding something to be positive about. I'm sure there are a number of reasons for this, but I wanted to offer my perspective.
Please don't think I'm delusional or retarded for this theory. I've spent a great deal of time feeling it out, sometimes very literally. You see, there's a very simple principle that exists within the laws of physics. Darkness cannot exist where there is light. However, the darkness is not destroyed, it's simply laying in wait for the light to go away so that it can once again rule the space light had previously occupied. The same can be applied in our lives. When we are thriving and happy and on a good path, our lives are filled with light. There is no room for darkness. When we struggle and wander on a path that is less than desirable, the darkness creeps in.
Darkness is subtle. In a 24 hour cycle, the night comes on only as the sun slowly sinks into the horizon. It is a gentle descent into the blackness of night. So it is with our lives. We make little mistakes that eventually become bigger. It's rarely a full on blast that takes out the sun in our lives. That generally doesn't happen. I think that's because no one intends to be a bad person. I believe that everyone is essentially good and wants to be a good person. It's just very difficult once you've begun to let the darkness rule you.
On the opposite end, have you ever noticed how quickly the dawn expels the night? When the sun breaks over that horizon, everything is bathed in light. The darkness disappears. The good things in life outweigh the bad. They will always dispel the darkness inside of us. The only thing holding us back is ourselves and how thick the clouds are around our hearts.
I realize that some of this is probably not making much sense so let me explain. I believe that some people are very literally followed by clouds of darkness. In the Bible, Genesis records that 1/3 of the host of heaven were cast out when Lucifer rebelled and led them astray. They were forbidden to come to earth to gain a body. When you think about how many people have thus far lived on this earth, and how many more we still have to come, 1/3 of that number is a staggering amount. I don't even want to try and think about how many that was. Mostly because I stink at math, but I digress. When these spirits were cast out, they followed the Morning Star. That was one of Lucifer's names. Lucifer was such a rebellious child that he did what all rebellious children do. He decided that if he was going to be miserable, then everyone else should be too. He has set out from that moment to make our existence here a living hell. We have something he can never have and it makes him angry. He blames us and God and Christ for his present state. He doesn't know how to accept the blame and responsibility for what he's done. Sound familiar? He is the reason for all of the misery in the world. Well, he's partly to blame. We all make choices, but I'll get to that later.
I believe that that 1/3 host of heaven is very real. I believe they are the darkness that follows people around. Here's why: I have felt them. Like I said, please don't think I'm delusional or retarded. I know it sounds a little crazy, but it's not that hard to imagine. I have led a less than perfect life. I strayed from the light for a lot of years and am still trying to find my way back for some things. There have been times where I swear something has been following me and whispering negative things in my ear. Most of that revolves around my own self worth and appearance because that is where I struggle the most and they know it. Were I too actually think well of myself, I would not have been in some of the situations I've found myself in. Anytime I've seen a picture of myself, I have self-criticizing thoughts, and as crazy as it sounds, when I have those thoughts, I'm also thinking at the same time that I'm crazy because it's not that bad. Why else would I think I'm ugly and a horrible person? I truly don't believe that...but something is trying to make me.
That's not the only reason I think they're real. I have been around other people I would swear are being influenced by that same darkness. These are people who would normally not do the things they do, but are constantly being whispered too and are too weak to say no. It's really not that far fetched. What else would those spirits be doing? Misery and jealousy are terms coined specifically because of those people. They are the definition of misery, jealousy, depression, anger, and hatred. They are the clouds surrounding our hearts and souls that keep us from finding the light.
There are ways to silence the darkness. Just stop doing what you know is wrong. Like I said, I've been down that path and it is much easier to stay stop doing the wrong thing than to actually stop sometimes. It is very difficult and it can physically hurt. Living in darkness is infinitely easier than trying to live in the Light. As someone who's struggled for a lot of years to find her happiness, I can testify to how much easier and enticing the darkness is, because the other aspect of the darkness is that it conceals the bad. In the Light, you have to face what you've done and try and fix it. Your soul is like your body and has to heal and it is a slow process...but it's worth it.
In the book, The Hobbit and the subsequent Lord of the Rings trilogy, there is a creature named Gollum. When he enters the story, he is a shriveled, pale, sickly creature who cannot exist in the normal world. He lives in a cave that is dark and dank. He is a slave to what he calls "my precious". It's a ring possessed by the spirit and evil of it's creator Sauron. When he found it, it whispered to him. He killed his friend to possess it and spiraled downward every day after that until he became what Bilbo Baggins found. Gollum did not begin as Gollum. He gave in to the whisperings of something much darker until he could no longer think for himself. The more he wore the ring, the more he fell to the influence of evil. It's the same for all of us. We never intend to become the Gollum's of this world. No one ever wants to be that miserable. The challenge, again, comes when we try to find our way back to the light. Gollum tried. He reverted briefly back to Smeagol, which was who he was originally, but ultimately could not sustain that life. It was too difficult for him and being Gollum was much simpler. Ask a drug addict or some politicians and they'll tell you the same thing.
So the solution is simple. Stay away from the dark. Don't touch it with any part of yourself because it is very enticing and it will drag you down with it. If you are already there and are struggling to get to the light, don't give up. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it's hard. Yes, it sucks...but yes, it's worth it.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Ya gotta be kidding me
I think the term I'm looking for is...OMG!
So, it's been a while. I kind of wanted to just regroup a little bit and ground myself before I talked about anything else. A lot has happened in the past few months and I feel like I've recharged a great deal. Just in time for another controversy for me to talk about! Haha
Initially, I didn't want to discuss any politics or anything similar on this blog. I figure I'm ok if I can keep the arguments with the sibs and friends to a minimum. Either way, this week I will probably post twice. Today, I want to talk about something that will lead into my 9/11 post tomorrow: "Entertainers". More specifically, I want to talk about the idiot who made a splash in the music industry this week simply by opening his mouth: Soulja Boy.
On Labor Day, Soulja Boy released a new song and video. The title is "Let's Be Real". Here's a little bit of info on "Soulja Boy" aka DeAndre Cortez Way. This kid is literally a kid. He was born in July of 1990, which makes him a mere 21 years old. From everything I've read about him, he has not had to struggle through anything. His father bought him a recording studio when he was living in Mississippi and he made his own videos to go along with the "songs" that he wrote. He self-published (much like a boy who looks like a girl *cough* Justin Bieber *cough*) and gained recognition and fame through YouTube. He was 11 when the airliners hit the twin towers of the World Trade Center. Like most of Hollywood, he is also terribly mis- and uninformed about a lot of things, politics and prejudice in particular.
So, there's your preface and information on Mr. Way. So, on Labor Day this year, this numbskull released "Let's Be Real" as both a track and a video. Being that he's gotten so "huge" in the rap/hip-hop industry, his video went viral. I don't think he realized how many people support our troops and our law enforcement, especially with such a huge anniversary just days away from when he released it. The lyrics of his song basically claim that he's better than any FBI agent or any military personnel. I won't write word for word what he said because I'm intelligent enough to use better words, but he said to screw the FBI and screw the army troops. He asks what they're fighting for and tells them to "be your own man"... I'll let that sink in for a moment before I go on.
Here is this 21 year old idiot who was old enough to remember 9/11. He is old enough to have witnessed the events of that day. He is not old enough for memory loss unless it's drug induced which is entirely possible. My question is, "What in the world were you thinking releasing that song?" The troops deployed overseas are not without means to view this kind of thing. Sure their amenities in these places are not consistent, but they aren't in the middle of a desert with absolutely no communication with the outside world. Did he honestly think they wouldn't see and hear what he'd done? I just don't understand.
Mr. Way has an interesting history of trading barbs with other rappers he doesn't get along with. They call them "diss songs". I call it middle school name calling and bullying. I'm not that big of a fan of rap anyway and that's increased in recent weeks. These guys think that because they rose from the ghetto and became "superstars" that they are more credible and more valuable than someone who didn't follow their example, but joined a branch of the service to escape the "hood". I wonder how they could have gotten that idea.
I remember that day ten years ago. I remember the thousands of people who died that day. I remember the troops who led us into Afghanistan and Iraq. I remember those who died to make sure that the threat against our freedom was neutralized. How is it that he forgot already? How is it that they've forgotten already?
In response to Mr. Way's video, the troops are fighting back with the same determination they fight with everyday. I've seen several videos on YouTube mocking Mr. Way for his tasteless lyrics and even poorer timing. He backpedaled when he started getting slammed with the hate, claiming that what he said was taken out of context and he was more upset and frustrated with the fact that we're fighting wars we shouldn't be and not taking care of the homefront. My response to that? Hahaha You're so dumb!
This generation is notorious for forgetting the sacrifices made by so many to give them the freedom of speech they seem to not have a filter for. We remember on the days that are marked by a holiday such as the 4th of July, Memorial Day, Veterans Day, and September 11th. Where is our patriotism the rest of the year? I admit, I am guilty of forgetting and taking for granted those things myself. I will not, however, speak out against the men and women who are standing in harms way overseas and at home to keep me and my loved ones safe. These people have given so much. Sometimes they give everything they have and still more is demanded. We have lost many lives to the cause of freedom and still we forget. With all of this sudden amnesia, I'm curious as to what's fueling it. Well, I don't have to look far.
News and entertainment are far from unbiased and fair. Celebrities and news outlets frequently make their political leanings know. I heard of more celebrities endorsing Barak Obama when he was running for president than I think I've heard in my entire life. They spoke up and encouraged us to vote for the first black president. A: He's half black. B: Why is Hollywood suddenly required to endorse a political candidate running for any office? I was completely dumbfounded when I saw so many of them making their opinions known. I was not shocked when my generation did exactly what Hollywood wanted and voted him in. I am part of a generation of sheep. That's no secret. I'm just not one who eats the koolaid flavored grass. I just don't understand when Hollywood's opinion of something political became valid. They are there to provide overpriced and underperformed entertainment. Unless they're running for office, they should stick their noses out of it. I honestly don't know why they side with the left either, as a side note. I don't understand that little tid bit of stupidity in the slightest.
Basically what this boils down to is a lack of education in the younger generation. My brothers have had full day-long conversations about the state of affairs in our country. I mostly remain quiet during those rants, but I absorb what I hear and find out for myself. The sheep just do what their told. The shepherd, in the form of news media and Hollywood, tells them to believe what they want them to believe and they do it. There are very few of us who actually do our homework and use the intelligence that God gave us to make informed decisions. DeAndre Way is too young and too ignorant to have formed an adequate opinion for himself. He's spouting what others have told him. He's outraged over something he has no comprehension of because someone else expressed their own outrage. He's as much of a sheep as the other koolaid-grass munching woolen livestock.
So where does that leave us? The obvious answer is in some really big piles of sheep poo. The only way out is to educate our own children and do what we can to keep them from having to clean up the ever growing mountain of poo being created by those too ignorant and too stubborn to just stop eating the koolaid-grass.
So, it's been a while. I kind of wanted to just regroup a little bit and ground myself before I talked about anything else. A lot has happened in the past few months and I feel like I've recharged a great deal. Just in time for another controversy for me to talk about! Haha
Initially, I didn't want to discuss any politics or anything similar on this blog. I figure I'm ok if I can keep the arguments with the sibs and friends to a minimum. Either way, this week I will probably post twice. Today, I want to talk about something that will lead into my 9/11 post tomorrow: "Entertainers". More specifically, I want to talk about the idiot who made a splash in the music industry this week simply by opening his mouth: Soulja Boy.
On Labor Day, Soulja Boy released a new song and video. The title is "Let's Be Real". Here's a little bit of info on "Soulja Boy" aka DeAndre Cortez Way. This kid is literally a kid. He was born in July of 1990, which makes him a mere 21 years old. From everything I've read about him, he has not had to struggle through anything. His father bought him a recording studio when he was living in Mississippi and he made his own videos to go along with the "songs" that he wrote. He self-published (much like a boy who looks like a girl *cough* Justin Bieber *cough*) and gained recognition and fame through YouTube. He was 11 when the airliners hit the twin towers of the World Trade Center. Like most of Hollywood, he is also terribly mis- and uninformed about a lot of things, politics and prejudice in particular.
So, there's your preface and information on Mr. Way. So, on Labor Day this year, this numbskull released "Let's Be Real" as both a track and a video. Being that he's gotten so "huge" in the rap/hip-hop industry, his video went viral. I don't think he realized how many people support our troops and our law enforcement, especially with such a huge anniversary just days away from when he released it. The lyrics of his song basically claim that he's better than any FBI agent or any military personnel. I won't write word for word what he said because I'm intelligent enough to use better words, but he said to screw the FBI and screw the army troops. He asks what they're fighting for and tells them to "be your own man"... I'll let that sink in for a moment before I go on.
Here is this 21 year old idiot who was old enough to remember 9/11. He is old enough to have witnessed the events of that day. He is not old enough for memory loss unless it's drug induced which is entirely possible. My question is, "What in the world were you thinking releasing that song?" The troops deployed overseas are not without means to view this kind of thing. Sure their amenities in these places are not consistent, but they aren't in the middle of a desert with absolutely no communication with the outside world. Did he honestly think they wouldn't see and hear what he'd done? I just don't understand.
Mr. Way has an interesting history of trading barbs with other rappers he doesn't get along with. They call them "diss songs". I call it middle school name calling and bullying. I'm not that big of a fan of rap anyway and that's increased in recent weeks. These guys think that because they rose from the ghetto and became "superstars" that they are more credible and more valuable than someone who didn't follow their example, but joined a branch of the service to escape the "hood". I wonder how they could have gotten that idea.
I remember that day ten years ago. I remember the thousands of people who died that day. I remember the troops who led us into Afghanistan and Iraq. I remember those who died to make sure that the threat against our freedom was neutralized. How is it that he forgot already? How is it that they've forgotten already?
In response to Mr. Way's video, the troops are fighting back with the same determination they fight with everyday. I've seen several videos on YouTube mocking Mr. Way for his tasteless lyrics and even poorer timing. He backpedaled when he started getting slammed with the hate, claiming that what he said was taken out of context and he was more upset and frustrated with the fact that we're fighting wars we shouldn't be and not taking care of the homefront. My response to that? Hahaha You're so dumb!
This generation is notorious for forgetting the sacrifices made by so many to give them the freedom of speech they seem to not have a filter for. We remember on the days that are marked by a holiday such as the 4th of July, Memorial Day, Veterans Day, and September 11th. Where is our patriotism the rest of the year? I admit, I am guilty of forgetting and taking for granted those things myself. I will not, however, speak out against the men and women who are standing in harms way overseas and at home to keep me and my loved ones safe. These people have given so much. Sometimes they give everything they have and still more is demanded. We have lost many lives to the cause of freedom and still we forget. With all of this sudden amnesia, I'm curious as to what's fueling it. Well, I don't have to look far.
News and entertainment are far from unbiased and fair. Celebrities and news outlets frequently make their political leanings know. I heard of more celebrities endorsing Barak Obama when he was running for president than I think I've heard in my entire life. They spoke up and encouraged us to vote for the first black president. A: He's half black. B: Why is Hollywood suddenly required to endorse a political candidate running for any office? I was completely dumbfounded when I saw so many of them making their opinions known. I was not shocked when my generation did exactly what Hollywood wanted and voted him in. I am part of a generation of sheep. That's no secret. I'm just not one who eats the koolaid flavored grass. I just don't understand when Hollywood's opinion of something political became valid. They are there to provide overpriced and underperformed entertainment. Unless they're running for office, they should stick their noses out of it. I honestly don't know why they side with the left either, as a side note. I don't understand that little tid bit of stupidity in the slightest.
Basically what this boils down to is a lack of education in the younger generation. My brothers have had full day-long conversations about the state of affairs in our country. I mostly remain quiet during those rants, but I absorb what I hear and find out for myself. The sheep just do what their told. The shepherd, in the form of news media and Hollywood, tells them to believe what they want them to believe and they do it. There are very few of us who actually do our homework and use the intelligence that God gave us to make informed decisions. DeAndre Way is too young and too ignorant to have formed an adequate opinion for himself. He's spouting what others have told him. He's outraged over something he has no comprehension of because someone else expressed their own outrage. He's as much of a sheep as the other koolaid-grass munching woolen livestock.
So where does that leave us? The obvious answer is in some really big piles of sheep poo. The only way out is to educate our own children and do what we can to keep them from having to clean up the ever growing mountain of poo being created by those too ignorant and too stubborn to just stop eating the koolaid-grass.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Because of the brave
I must confess that the Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays. Growing up, I loved everything about it. The firework shows were always a lot of fun and the barbecues always seemed so much more yummy on the fourth than on any other day of the year. I still get crazy excited about that aspect of this holiday. There are, however, more substantial reasons for being a major fan of July 4th.
I am a history nerd. I love learning about history. When my family lived in Bosnia, we got to tour some places in Europe. My favorite place? The bunkers on the beaches outside of Dunkirk that were used by the Germans in World War II. I thought it was just so cool to be standing in a physical reminder of the price our country has paid not only for our freedom, but for the freedom of so many others. That is something we as Americans do well. We see the value of liberty and it makes us hardheaded. We don't settle for less.
When it comes down to it, our freedoms were bought with the lives of men who were willing to lay down their own to prevent their families and their descendants from having to live under brutal tyranny. America was colonized originally for religious freedom. Our ancestors came here where they could be free to worship without fear of persecution. Eventually, that persecution followed them with the British rule. King George set up colonies in what eventually become the original 13 states. The people were made to believe that they were being equally represented in the British parliament. When it became apparent that that was not the case, they fought back. Initially, their fighting was in small demonstrations...if you call things like the Boston Tea Party small. King George levied taxes and established laws that our forefathers did not have a hand in making. Now, they could have chosen to wait it out and hope that things would get better. They knew, as so many of us still know, that government should be of the people, by the people, and for the people and that a monarch an entire ocean away was not what was right. They wanted freedom.
On July 4th, 1776, the first continental congress signed a Declaration of Independence. In it, they listed everything that had been done that had forced them into making such a decision. They also listed their belief that all men are created equal and are endowed with certain rights that no one had any right in taking from them. The most amazing thing to me is that these men didn't just arbitrarily decide to plunge their fellow Americans into war without trying other avenues first. They'd tried for several years to get King George to work with them. Like Pharaoh and the Hebrews, King George was not interested in negotiating. So they did the only thing they could do. They cut ties and fought for Independence.
In the 1700s, warfare was much less, and in some cases much more, sophisticated than our current methods. At the time, the colonies didn't have a professional army or navy. They relied on militiamen. In my mind, that was probably the best thing they could have done. A man fighting for his family and his home is much more determined to succeed than a soldier simply being paid to fight. A regular army was formed on June 14, 1775. The Continental Congress appointed George Washington as its Commander-In-Chief. Washington knew the value of militia and utilized them for short stints while coordinating his own army. On November 10, 1775, the United States Marine Corps was formed at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia. At the beginning of 1776, Washington's army had 20,000 men, one-third of which were state militia. 20,000 men volunteered and fought for freedom against the much more rigorously trained British redcoats. Before the end of the war, 250,000 men served as regulars or militiamen during the eight years of the wars duration. Think about it. Right now, that's not a lot of people in a war. At the time? That's incredible.
Eight years after a handful of men took the initial step toward freedom, the British were defeated and we were free. We established our own form of government and adopted a constitution of rights and laws. Throughout history, our country has fought many times to maintain that hard earned freedom. In 1812, we again went to war with the British. In 1860, South Carolina seceded from the union and was quickly followed a month later by many other Southern states, beginning the most devastating war in our history. More American lives were lost in the Civil War than all the other wars combined. Brother fought brother. Each side believed they were in the right. Our constitution was put to the test. Are all men created equal no matter his color? Again, thanks to men willing to lay down their lives for the freedom of others, that questioned was answered with a resounding Yes!
Irony is a funny thing. In the early 20th century, Germany declared war on the world. Old grudges were momentarily laid aside and the United States of America came to the aid of all European countries and fought for their freedom. This action was repeated when Hitler took control of Germany and declared war on the world for a second time. The United States was understandably leery of joining, but did so enthusiastically when Japan sucker-punched us on December 7, 1941. Try as they might though, they were unable to defend against the countless numbers of men and women who heeded the call for soldiers to fight for freedom. So many of that generation went willingly into battle, knowing the likelihood of their own return home was not great, but doing it anyway. They knew that freedom isn't free and were willing to pay the price. Many of them did.
Our country has fought for others freedoms many times since then. My grandfather fought in Korea with the Marine Corps. We fought for the South Vietnamese. We fought for the Iraqis twice. Seeing a pattern?
Our country and our people are the home of the free BECAUSE of the brave. Men and women of valor have stood up to tyranny and injustice and fought back and won on countless occasions. Think about that the next time you see a flag waving or sing the national anthem.
The Star-Spangled Banner Verse 3:
Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
I am a history nerd. I love learning about history. When my family lived in Bosnia, we got to tour some places in Europe. My favorite place? The bunkers on the beaches outside of Dunkirk that were used by the Germans in World War II. I thought it was just so cool to be standing in a physical reminder of the price our country has paid not only for our freedom, but for the freedom of so many others. That is something we as Americans do well. We see the value of liberty and it makes us hardheaded. We don't settle for less.
When it comes down to it, our freedoms were bought with the lives of men who were willing to lay down their own to prevent their families and their descendants from having to live under brutal tyranny. America was colonized originally for religious freedom. Our ancestors came here where they could be free to worship without fear of persecution. Eventually, that persecution followed them with the British rule. King George set up colonies in what eventually become the original 13 states. The people were made to believe that they were being equally represented in the British parliament. When it became apparent that that was not the case, they fought back. Initially, their fighting was in small demonstrations...if you call things like the Boston Tea Party small. King George levied taxes and established laws that our forefathers did not have a hand in making. Now, they could have chosen to wait it out and hope that things would get better. They knew, as so many of us still know, that government should be of the people, by the people, and for the people and that a monarch an entire ocean away was not what was right. They wanted freedom.
On July 4th, 1776, the first continental congress signed a Declaration of Independence. In it, they listed everything that had been done that had forced them into making such a decision. They also listed their belief that all men are created equal and are endowed with certain rights that no one had any right in taking from them. The most amazing thing to me is that these men didn't just arbitrarily decide to plunge their fellow Americans into war without trying other avenues first. They'd tried for several years to get King George to work with them. Like Pharaoh and the Hebrews, King George was not interested in negotiating. So they did the only thing they could do. They cut ties and fought for Independence.
In the 1700s, warfare was much less, and in some cases much more, sophisticated than our current methods. At the time, the colonies didn't have a professional army or navy. They relied on militiamen. In my mind, that was probably the best thing they could have done. A man fighting for his family and his home is much more determined to succeed than a soldier simply being paid to fight. A regular army was formed on June 14, 1775. The Continental Congress appointed George Washington as its Commander-In-Chief. Washington knew the value of militia and utilized them for short stints while coordinating his own army. On November 10, 1775, the United States Marine Corps was formed at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia. At the beginning of 1776, Washington's army had 20,000 men, one-third of which were state militia. 20,000 men volunteered and fought for freedom against the much more rigorously trained British redcoats. Before the end of the war, 250,000 men served as regulars or militiamen during the eight years of the wars duration. Think about it. Right now, that's not a lot of people in a war. At the time? That's incredible.
Eight years after a handful of men took the initial step toward freedom, the British were defeated and we were free. We established our own form of government and adopted a constitution of rights and laws. Throughout history, our country has fought many times to maintain that hard earned freedom. In 1812, we again went to war with the British. In 1860, South Carolina seceded from the union and was quickly followed a month later by many other Southern states, beginning the most devastating war in our history. More American lives were lost in the Civil War than all the other wars combined. Brother fought brother. Each side believed they were in the right. Our constitution was put to the test. Are all men created equal no matter his color? Again, thanks to men willing to lay down their lives for the freedom of others, that questioned was answered with a resounding Yes!
Irony is a funny thing. In the early 20th century, Germany declared war on the world. Old grudges were momentarily laid aside and the United States of America came to the aid of all European countries and fought for their freedom. This action was repeated when Hitler took control of Germany and declared war on the world for a second time. The United States was understandably leery of joining, but did so enthusiastically when Japan sucker-punched us on December 7, 1941. Try as they might though, they were unable to defend against the countless numbers of men and women who heeded the call for soldiers to fight for freedom. So many of that generation went willingly into battle, knowing the likelihood of their own return home was not great, but doing it anyway. They knew that freedom isn't free and were willing to pay the price. Many of them did.
Our country has fought for others freedoms many times since then. My grandfather fought in Korea with the Marine Corps. We fought for the South Vietnamese. We fought for the Iraqis twice. Seeing a pattern?
Our country and our people are the home of the free BECAUSE of the brave. Men and women of valor have stood up to tyranny and injustice and fought back and won on countless occasions. Think about that the next time you see a flag waving or sing the national anthem.
The Star-Spangled Banner Verse 3:
Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Modesty
Ok. So, I am more than positive that most of anyone who read last weeks blog didn't really agree with what I said. I'm ok with that. Mostly because I don't think I explained myself very well. I think that regularly of my posts here. This week is, I think, a little more straightforward.
Modesty is a big issue for this generation and it continues to grow with each passing generation. The issue? We have no modesty. There are a few different ways you can interpret modesty, but the most straightforward way is the one I want to talk about. Modesty in regards to our physical appearance is a thing of the past...or so everyone seems to think.
Growing up, I remember being instructed on what modesty was. I didn't really understand what being immodest does and how it affects people, but have since learned the older I've gotten. I've learned that dressing (or not dressing as the case may be) a certain way can alter someone's perception of you entirely. That alteration has potential to be either a very good thing or a very bad thing.
Middle school was when the other girls my age began wearing less modest clothing. Middle school is when we really start to become aware that there is a definite difference between boys and girls. Puberty hits everyone. Cracking voices and the beginnings of raging hormones rule the school. That's also when we start being given a little bit of independence. I remember watching as many other girls in my grade chose to wear less modest clothing and because most of them were more popular than me, that's what I wanted to do. Unfortunately, or fortunately however you want to put it, the clothing they wore was fairly well forbidden in my house. My parents had pretty strict rules about modesty that I tried more than once to bend. Which, on a side note, is kind of interesting because I think skimpy clothing is meant to show off...and at thirteen, most girls don't really have anything to show off. Seems to be rather stupid if you ask me.
As my life has progressed, the value of modesty has regressed. I have witnessed little girls running around in very little clothing; ie low cut spaghetti straps, mid riff baring tanks, and Daisy Dukes and mini skirts. When I say little girls, I mean four and five year olds. Kind of silly, huh?
Don't get me wrong. I would completely fight against the high necks, long sleeves, and long dresses of days past. I live in Texas! There's no way I'd be willing to walk around in the summer heat in an outfit like that. I don't, however, believe we are doing anyone any favors by allowing our children to "learn" about sex appeal before they can even read.
Modesty is a beautiful thing. I applaud anyone who can remain modest in the society we live in. It can be very difficult to find clothing that won't reaveal everything to everyone. I'm not disputing that. In the long run, it's very worth it. I don't think women in general, but especially younger women really understand the power they have over men. Some know and don't care. Little girls definitely don't know.
I think that when we dress them in more revealing clothing, we think it's harmless. "They're little girls. No one is going to objectify a little girl and look at her like she's a sex object." ...Excuse me?! What planet are you living on?! There are so many stories of sick, sick people doing horrific things to little girls. I'm not saying it only happens to girls who are less modest cause I don't believe that in the least. I do think that, even if nothing bad happens to them when they're young, we are setting them up for failure.
I have been on both sides. There was about a year and a half where I didn't really care about anything of any importance. I did what I wanted and it generally didn't involve I would care to repeat in mixed company. I was one of the girls who'd been raised with a sense of modesty. I knew what was inappropriate to wear. I figured out really quickly why it was forbidden at home. I learned why my parents had taught me to dress in a way that left some of my figure to the imagination. The opposite turned guys around me into submissive idiots at times and then demanding jerks at others. I knew how to use my sex appeal to my advantage and it almost always involved revealing clothing.
So there is no doubt about what immodesty does to the male species, let me lay it out for you. I don't mean to get biblical, so forgive me if that's how this sounds. Men and women were created with the ability to have children. Our bodies were specifically designed for that. We were also given urges that can be very difficult to control sometimes. As one who's lost control on more than one occassion, I can vouch for that difficulty. Immodesty makes it all the more difficult. That's just the way we are designed. It's hard for anyone to concentrate when there is so little left to the imagination. I don't mean just girls either.
The point I'm trying to make is that our children become what we teach them to be. If we teach them that it's ok to walk around in almost nothing, what do you think their future attitude will be? Why do you think sexting is so accepted now? Kids have no concept of the value of modesty because we don't teach it to them. Why are we allowing them to think it's ok to look like a hooker at the age of 5?
Modesty is a big issue for this generation and it continues to grow with each passing generation. The issue? We have no modesty. There are a few different ways you can interpret modesty, but the most straightforward way is the one I want to talk about. Modesty in regards to our physical appearance is a thing of the past...or so everyone seems to think.
Growing up, I remember being instructed on what modesty was. I didn't really understand what being immodest does and how it affects people, but have since learned the older I've gotten. I've learned that dressing (or not dressing as the case may be) a certain way can alter someone's perception of you entirely. That alteration has potential to be either a very good thing or a very bad thing.
Middle school was when the other girls my age began wearing less modest clothing. Middle school is when we really start to become aware that there is a definite difference between boys and girls. Puberty hits everyone. Cracking voices and the beginnings of raging hormones rule the school. That's also when we start being given a little bit of independence. I remember watching as many other girls in my grade chose to wear less modest clothing and because most of them were more popular than me, that's what I wanted to do. Unfortunately, or fortunately however you want to put it, the clothing they wore was fairly well forbidden in my house. My parents had pretty strict rules about modesty that I tried more than once to bend. Which, on a side note, is kind of interesting because I think skimpy clothing is meant to show off...and at thirteen, most girls don't really have anything to show off. Seems to be rather stupid if you ask me.
As my life has progressed, the value of modesty has regressed. I have witnessed little girls running around in very little clothing; ie low cut spaghetti straps, mid riff baring tanks, and Daisy Dukes and mini skirts. When I say little girls, I mean four and five year olds. Kind of silly, huh?
Don't get me wrong. I would completely fight against the high necks, long sleeves, and long dresses of days past. I live in Texas! There's no way I'd be willing to walk around in the summer heat in an outfit like that. I don't, however, believe we are doing anyone any favors by allowing our children to "learn" about sex appeal before they can even read.
Modesty is a beautiful thing. I applaud anyone who can remain modest in the society we live in. It can be very difficult to find clothing that won't reaveal everything to everyone. I'm not disputing that. In the long run, it's very worth it. I don't think women in general, but especially younger women really understand the power they have over men. Some know and don't care. Little girls definitely don't know.
I think that when we dress them in more revealing clothing, we think it's harmless. "They're little girls. No one is going to objectify a little girl and look at her like she's a sex object." ...Excuse me?! What planet are you living on?! There are so many stories of sick, sick people doing horrific things to little girls. I'm not saying it only happens to girls who are less modest cause I don't believe that in the least. I do think that, even if nothing bad happens to them when they're young, we are setting them up for failure.
I have been on both sides. There was about a year and a half where I didn't really care about anything of any importance. I did what I wanted and it generally didn't involve I would care to repeat in mixed company. I was one of the girls who'd been raised with a sense of modesty. I knew what was inappropriate to wear. I figured out really quickly why it was forbidden at home. I learned why my parents had taught me to dress in a way that left some of my figure to the imagination. The opposite turned guys around me into submissive idiots at times and then demanding jerks at others. I knew how to use my sex appeal to my advantage and it almost always involved revealing clothing.
So there is no doubt about what immodesty does to the male species, let me lay it out for you. I don't mean to get biblical, so forgive me if that's how this sounds. Men and women were created with the ability to have children. Our bodies were specifically designed for that. We were also given urges that can be very difficult to control sometimes. As one who's lost control on more than one occassion, I can vouch for that difficulty. Immodesty makes it all the more difficult. That's just the way we are designed. It's hard for anyone to concentrate when there is so little left to the imagination. I don't mean just girls either.
The point I'm trying to make is that our children become what we teach them to be. If we teach them that it's ok to walk around in almost nothing, what do you think their future attitude will be? Why do you think sexting is so accepted now? Kids have no concept of the value of modesty because we don't teach it to them. Why are we allowing them to think it's ok to look like a hooker at the age of 5?
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Birth Mother's Day
Normally for these posts, I have a hard time deciding what to write about. Today...not so much. It's an important weekend for mothers everywhere. It is the first full weekend of May which means Mother's Day is tomorrow. Normally, you'd think that's what I would write about. While I have full intentions of writing about it tomorrow, There's an important topic for discussion today. Not many people are aware of it, but the day before Mother's Day has been designated in recent years as Birth Mother's Day.
I guess a proper definition of Birth Mother is probably required. A birth mother is a woman who gave birth and placed her child in another woman's arms to raise. She is a woman who cannot, for one reason or another, raise her child herself. She has so much love for her child that she wants what's best and places her child with someone else.
I've had a bit of trepidation about this day. Personally, I didn't like thinking that we were any different from regular moms. I'm still not too fond of it, but I see the reasoning behind it. Birth mothers are, by definition, different. Having a day set aside that is separate from Mother's day is a way for some people to acknowledge the sacrifice made by every birth mother. Kind of like Veteran's Day or Memorial Day. Some of the girls who are birth mothers need that kind of recognition. I'm not really one of them.
My story has been an open book since it happened. At first, when I would tell people I'd placed my daughter in another woman's arms to raise, it was for sympathy. I wanted people to feel sorry for me. I wasn't ready to forgive myself for what I had perceived I'd "done", so their admiration for this great feat I'd accomplished acted as a buffer. That has since changed, thankfully. I tell my story so other people will understand something they might not have before. I mentioned a little bit of it in my post about abortion and I want to fill in some gaps now. I will try not to be too terribly long winded, but this is a story that takes some explaining.
Naturally, there are some aspects that I won't lay bare simply because they are things I don't think people want to know. However, this all started around February of 2005. I was spending a lot of time with a new friend who was a convert to the church. She'd just begun attending the local singles ward and we'd hit it off really well. She stayed at my house all the time. Around February, she told me her dog had had puppies and invited me to go see them. The puppies were at the house of the family she'd lived with when she joined the church. She's left her dog there when she moved out so that's where the puppies were. That was where I first met Josh.
I'd heard rumors about Josh at church. His brother was in my Sunday School class and rumors followed the family everywhere. Most of them were about Josh and most of them were not favorable. My friend warned me after I met him that Josh was trouble. I chose to give him a chance rather than listen to what other people had to say about him. I played the part of girl-who-thinks-she-can-change-a-guy perfectly. You see, Josh was a drug addict. I'm not talking a little weed here and there. I'm talking hard core crystal meth. For anyone who doesn't know, crystal meth is "poor man's cocaine". It's made from things like battery acid and the household cleaners you find under your sink. Gross. I know.
When we started dating, we started misbehaving. We were being immoral from day one. I could go into a lot of detail about why I stayed with him for almost a full year and why I gave him the most precious thing I could give a man, but that would take a while and I'm sure you don't want to read a therapy report. The abbreviated version is I have a very loving heart. I was crushed by the realization of what I'd given up and felt like I could no longer do any better or offer anyone else anything in regards to love. I stayed with him for that reason. I didn't think anyone else, meaning any other man, would ever want me. This at the age of 19. From the beginning, Josh and his mom told me that the doctors had told them he would never father children. Looking back, I'm not sure I believe that. Either way, we didn't use protection and were ok for nearly a year. In November of 2005, right after my older brother got home from his mission to the Phillipines, I started getting morning sickness.
I knew two weeks before I actually went to confirm with a doctor that I was pregnant. I think my parents knew too. Josh was in rehab and I was beyond terrified of what I was going to have to face. I'm a passive person by nature anyway so having to deal with what I saw as a MASSIVE confrontation scared the pooey out of me. I asked my mom to come with me to the appointment because I was so scared. In retrospect, I'm not sure that was the best idea, but you can't really plan for these things. Here's the disclaimer for this post: My family is amazing. There is no handbook on how to deal with finding out your child is expecting his/her own child, and it's not really a joyous thing when the situation is what mine was. They handled it the best the could and did remarkably well considering the circumstances.
When the doctor said the test was positive, I just about died. I remember not hearing much after she said that. Everything went fuzzy. I remember getting in the car and seeing that my mom was on the phone talking to LDS Social Services. I had much less control over my emotions when I was younger anyway, but compounded with pregnancy and I was the Texas Giant of roller coasters. Mom was the Stake Relief Society president at the time and called the director of the LDSS branch in Carrollton. She called him directly and told him she had a daughter that would be coming to see him soon. I'm a red head. We skip angry and go straight to livid. I didn't want anyone planning my future and still have a bad habit of bucking against what someone tells me I should do, even if it's good for me. I was so focused on who was right that I forgot to pay attention to what was right. There were a lot of fights and a lot of tearful discussions between me and my parents about what should be done. We held off telling my siblings for a few weeks, but we all understood that we wouldn't be able to hide it for long.
I am trying to be abbreviated, but I think this part of the story is worth telling. It demonstrates just how blessed I am with the siblings I have: We had a family meeting where I sort of blurted out that I was pregnant and Dad asked everyone how they felt. It took a lot of years for my older brother and I to see eye to eye on what happened, but we are on the same wave length now. At the time, he had an interesting way of saying he hoped that I would learn my lesson and never make this mistake again. My sister was an angel and told me she would support me no matter what I decided to do. It was my younger brothers' reactions that blew me away. As soon as I said that I was pregnant, all three of my younger brothers reached out to physically offer their support in whatever way they could. Rayo held my left hand, Remi wrapped his arms around my legs, and Nick got up and sat next to me, laying his head on my shoulder. When it was their turn to share how they felt, all three of them said they would help me with anything I decided to do. Rayo said he and Nick would share their room with the baby and keep it clean and help get up in the middle of the night to feed what they immediately dubbed as Tiny Tim. Yeah. I didn't ask them to do that and neither did anyone else. They offered.
Ok. So fast forward a little. A few months later we found out that Tiny Tim was actually a Tiny Tina. I broke up with Josh, finally, and things settled into a semi routine. I was still leary of adoption and chose not to choose anything. I avoided making any decision about the baby for as long as I could. When Josh started threatening violence to me and my family, things started happening.
My foster brother, Mike, married into a wonderful family. I love his wife and her family so much. Her mom in particular has been a unfailing rock for me. She works with an adoption agency in Utah. When Mike found out I was pregnant, he put Karen on my path. She tried calling me a few times and I resisted. I finally relented around the beginning of May 2006. She got me connected with the office and it was decided that for my protection and the protection of my daughter and my family, I would move to Utah for the last three months of my pregnancy.
The move to Utah was emotional, but so was everything about the situation I'd found myself in. I hadn't really decided for myself that adoption was what I wanted, but I am passive. Remember? I did what I was told. Mom wanted me to go to therapy with their counselor because it was offered and it was free. I resisted. She had dad talk to me for two hours. Honestly, I don't remember much about the conversation except that I wanted it to be over. I do remember agreeing to go at the end so I could end the call. Sorry, dad. But, I made a promise. So I called the agency and set up an appointment to go see Theresa. The first question she asked me was why I'd gone to therapy. I told her that I'd promised my parents I'd go. She told me later that she knew right then I was a special case and that I was going to eventually be fine. I'd told her a truth right from the beginning.
Being pregnant and single is not easy. I had a lot of free time on my hands to think and do nothing. Somehow, the agency took a special interest in me. I found out I was the first topic of discussion at almost every board meeting for the entire month I was there. They wanted to make sure I was involved in the activities they set up for the other birth mothers there. I wanted none of it and Theresa knew it. She told them, in no uncertain terms, that they were not allowed to push me to do anything I didn't want to do. She knew I was being pushed and pulled by everyone and she wouldn't allow anyone else to do any more.
Fast forward again. At the beginning of August, I had still not chosen a family to place my child with. I hadn't found the one I felt fit the best. I'd made two selections already, but the first one declined and the second couldn't afford the private agency. Theresa showed me a portfolio of a family who'd submitted their packets a week before. They'd been planning on adopting from China and, for then unknown reason, had had duplicate, notorized copies of all their paperwork made. Things that normally would have taken months were set and ready for me to choose them when I got their profile. I thought about them for a week before actually choosing them.
Last fast forward. I can't tell you what it's like to carry a life inside you for nine months and then finally meet that little person. Mom flew in barely in time for me to go into labor...we're talking like, three hours before labor started was when she landed. I'd made a promise to wait for her and Karen (not like I have ANY control over that) and I did just that. When mom got there, that was it. She was ready to come out. She was done waiting. Mom, Karen, and Theresa were in the delivery room when it came time for Liza to be born. It took some doing, because I had an epidural, but Liza was born just before 11 pm on September 3, 2006. You know those movies where a woman gives birth and then falls back and starts crying? That was me. I was relieved that the physical pain was over. Yeah. Not so much. I chose to hold my baby girl and spend as much time with her as I could. Mike came and took baby pictures in the hospital at 2 in the morning for me. Mom got to spend some time with her and so did Karen. My older brother and Mikes family also got to come to the hospital and see my baby girl.
The rest of the physical pain that I alluded too began when the adoptive family came to the hospital to meet me and Liza for the first time. That's when it started hitting me. I could feel what was coming like it was a Mack truck hauling logs going 80 miles an hour. So, I left the hospital and had to leave her there overnight. They had to run some tests and I didn't think I would have to check her out. Two days after she was born, the day after I was released, I signed relinquishment. I got a call later that afternoon, when I was visiting with a very dear friend, Leslie, asking me to go back to the hospital to check her out. I asked if we could have a little more time with her. Luckily, my nurse from the last two days was there and had no problem letting me see her for 45 minutes. She slept on my chest the whole time, curled up and content to listen to me talk. At the end of that 45 minutes...that's when the worst hurt happened. I started crying when they said it was time to go. It took everything I had to put that little girl back in the hospital bed. When I finally pulled her head away from my chest, it literally felt like I was tearing a hole in my chest and my heart was going with her. I felt like I was drowning. The nurse saw what was happening and pulled me into as tight a hug as she could manage. She said, "I don't even know you that well, and I love you so much."
My recovery took years. There is a whole two months of 2006 that I don't remember. I took a nose dive for a full two years and it took me a long time to pull myself out of the trouble I went looking for. Now, almost five years later, I am a lot happier than I've ever been. Being a birth mother sets me apart from a lot of people, but not in a bad way. I have learned a great deal about myself. I've also been able to give life to an incredible little girl and a little girl to a family who couldn't have any more kids. There's still a stigma against adoption, sadly. Maybe that's why they created Birth Mother's day. Either way, speaking as someone who's been there, giving a child up for adoption is not taking the easy way out. It's something you live with for the rest of your life. It's not something you forget. It's an act of love. Pure and simple. We do it because we love our children so much. They deserve everything we can give them. Sometimes, the best thing for a child, is not us.
I hope that this has enlightened someone. I know it'll probably be shocking for some that I put my story on such a public forum, so please forgive me for shocking you. I want people to understand and the way I explain is through story telling. Now you know what it means to be a birth mother. We really aren't so different. We just made different choices.
I guess a proper definition of Birth Mother is probably required. A birth mother is a woman who gave birth and placed her child in another woman's arms to raise. She is a woman who cannot, for one reason or another, raise her child herself. She has so much love for her child that she wants what's best and places her child with someone else.
I've had a bit of trepidation about this day. Personally, I didn't like thinking that we were any different from regular moms. I'm still not too fond of it, but I see the reasoning behind it. Birth mothers are, by definition, different. Having a day set aside that is separate from Mother's day is a way for some people to acknowledge the sacrifice made by every birth mother. Kind of like Veteran's Day or Memorial Day. Some of the girls who are birth mothers need that kind of recognition. I'm not really one of them.
My story has been an open book since it happened. At first, when I would tell people I'd placed my daughter in another woman's arms to raise, it was for sympathy. I wanted people to feel sorry for me. I wasn't ready to forgive myself for what I had perceived I'd "done", so their admiration for this great feat I'd accomplished acted as a buffer. That has since changed, thankfully. I tell my story so other people will understand something they might not have before. I mentioned a little bit of it in my post about abortion and I want to fill in some gaps now. I will try not to be too terribly long winded, but this is a story that takes some explaining.
Naturally, there are some aspects that I won't lay bare simply because they are things I don't think people want to know. However, this all started around February of 2005. I was spending a lot of time with a new friend who was a convert to the church. She'd just begun attending the local singles ward and we'd hit it off really well. She stayed at my house all the time. Around February, she told me her dog had had puppies and invited me to go see them. The puppies were at the house of the family she'd lived with when she joined the church. She's left her dog there when she moved out so that's where the puppies were. That was where I first met Josh.
I'd heard rumors about Josh at church. His brother was in my Sunday School class and rumors followed the family everywhere. Most of them were about Josh and most of them were not favorable. My friend warned me after I met him that Josh was trouble. I chose to give him a chance rather than listen to what other people had to say about him. I played the part of girl-who-thinks-she-can-change-a-guy perfectly. You see, Josh was a drug addict. I'm not talking a little weed here and there. I'm talking hard core crystal meth. For anyone who doesn't know, crystal meth is "poor man's cocaine". It's made from things like battery acid and the household cleaners you find under your sink. Gross. I know.
When we started dating, we started misbehaving. We were being immoral from day one. I could go into a lot of detail about why I stayed with him for almost a full year and why I gave him the most precious thing I could give a man, but that would take a while and I'm sure you don't want to read a therapy report. The abbreviated version is I have a very loving heart. I was crushed by the realization of what I'd given up and felt like I could no longer do any better or offer anyone else anything in regards to love. I stayed with him for that reason. I didn't think anyone else, meaning any other man, would ever want me. This at the age of 19. From the beginning, Josh and his mom told me that the doctors had told them he would never father children. Looking back, I'm not sure I believe that. Either way, we didn't use protection and were ok for nearly a year. In November of 2005, right after my older brother got home from his mission to the Phillipines, I started getting morning sickness.
I knew two weeks before I actually went to confirm with a doctor that I was pregnant. I think my parents knew too. Josh was in rehab and I was beyond terrified of what I was going to have to face. I'm a passive person by nature anyway so having to deal with what I saw as a MASSIVE confrontation scared the pooey out of me. I asked my mom to come with me to the appointment because I was so scared. In retrospect, I'm not sure that was the best idea, but you can't really plan for these things. Here's the disclaimer for this post: My family is amazing. There is no handbook on how to deal with finding out your child is expecting his/her own child, and it's not really a joyous thing when the situation is what mine was. They handled it the best the could and did remarkably well considering the circumstances.
When the doctor said the test was positive, I just about died. I remember not hearing much after she said that. Everything went fuzzy. I remember getting in the car and seeing that my mom was on the phone talking to LDS Social Services. I had much less control over my emotions when I was younger anyway, but compounded with pregnancy and I was the Texas Giant of roller coasters. Mom was the Stake Relief Society president at the time and called the director of the LDSS branch in Carrollton. She called him directly and told him she had a daughter that would be coming to see him soon. I'm a red head. We skip angry and go straight to livid. I didn't want anyone planning my future and still have a bad habit of bucking against what someone tells me I should do, even if it's good for me. I was so focused on who was right that I forgot to pay attention to what was right. There were a lot of fights and a lot of tearful discussions between me and my parents about what should be done. We held off telling my siblings for a few weeks, but we all understood that we wouldn't be able to hide it for long.
I am trying to be abbreviated, but I think this part of the story is worth telling. It demonstrates just how blessed I am with the siblings I have: We had a family meeting where I sort of blurted out that I was pregnant and Dad asked everyone how they felt. It took a lot of years for my older brother and I to see eye to eye on what happened, but we are on the same wave length now. At the time, he had an interesting way of saying he hoped that I would learn my lesson and never make this mistake again. My sister was an angel and told me she would support me no matter what I decided to do. It was my younger brothers' reactions that blew me away. As soon as I said that I was pregnant, all three of my younger brothers reached out to physically offer their support in whatever way they could. Rayo held my left hand, Remi wrapped his arms around my legs, and Nick got up and sat next to me, laying his head on my shoulder. When it was their turn to share how they felt, all three of them said they would help me with anything I decided to do. Rayo said he and Nick would share their room with the baby and keep it clean and help get up in the middle of the night to feed what they immediately dubbed as Tiny Tim. Yeah. I didn't ask them to do that and neither did anyone else. They offered.
Ok. So fast forward a little. A few months later we found out that Tiny Tim was actually a Tiny Tina. I broke up with Josh, finally, and things settled into a semi routine. I was still leary of adoption and chose not to choose anything. I avoided making any decision about the baby for as long as I could. When Josh started threatening violence to me and my family, things started happening.
My foster brother, Mike, married into a wonderful family. I love his wife and her family so much. Her mom in particular has been a unfailing rock for me. She works with an adoption agency in Utah. When Mike found out I was pregnant, he put Karen on my path. She tried calling me a few times and I resisted. I finally relented around the beginning of May 2006. She got me connected with the office and it was decided that for my protection and the protection of my daughter and my family, I would move to Utah for the last three months of my pregnancy.
The move to Utah was emotional, but so was everything about the situation I'd found myself in. I hadn't really decided for myself that adoption was what I wanted, but I am passive. Remember? I did what I was told. Mom wanted me to go to therapy with their counselor because it was offered and it was free. I resisted. She had dad talk to me for two hours. Honestly, I don't remember much about the conversation except that I wanted it to be over. I do remember agreeing to go at the end so I could end the call. Sorry, dad. But, I made a promise. So I called the agency and set up an appointment to go see Theresa. The first question she asked me was why I'd gone to therapy. I told her that I'd promised my parents I'd go. She told me later that she knew right then I was a special case and that I was going to eventually be fine. I'd told her a truth right from the beginning.
Being pregnant and single is not easy. I had a lot of free time on my hands to think and do nothing. Somehow, the agency took a special interest in me. I found out I was the first topic of discussion at almost every board meeting for the entire month I was there. They wanted to make sure I was involved in the activities they set up for the other birth mothers there. I wanted none of it and Theresa knew it. She told them, in no uncertain terms, that they were not allowed to push me to do anything I didn't want to do. She knew I was being pushed and pulled by everyone and she wouldn't allow anyone else to do any more.
Fast forward again. At the beginning of August, I had still not chosen a family to place my child with. I hadn't found the one I felt fit the best. I'd made two selections already, but the first one declined and the second couldn't afford the private agency. Theresa showed me a portfolio of a family who'd submitted their packets a week before. They'd been planning on adopting from China and, for then unknown reason, had had duplicate, notorized copies of all their paperwork made. Things that normally would have taken months were set and ready for me to choose them when I got their profile. I thought about them for a week before actually choosing them.
Last fast forward. I can't tell you what it's like to carry a life inside you for nine months and then finally meet that little person. Mom flew in barely in time for me to go into labor...we're talking like, three hours before labor started was when she landed. I'd made a promise to wait for her and Karen (not like I have ANY control over that) and I did just that. When mom got there, that was it. She was ready to come out. She was done waiting. Mom, Karen, and Theresa were in the delivery room when it came time for Liza to be born. It took some doing, because I had an epidural, but Liza was born just before 11 pm on September 3, 2006. You know those movies where a woman gives birth and then falls back and starts crying? That was me. I was relieved that the physical pain was over. Yeah. Not so much. I chose to hold my baby girl and spend as much time with her as I could. Mike came and took baby pictures in the hospital at 2 in the morning for me. Mom got to spend some time with her and so did Karen. My older brother and Mikes family also got to come to the hospital and see my baby girl.
The rest of the physical pain that I alluded too began when the adoptive family came to the hospital to meet me and Liza for the first time. That's when it started hitting me. I could feel what was coming like it was a Mack truck hauling logs going 80 miles an hour. So, I left the hospital and had to leave her there overnight. They had to run some tests and I didn't think I would have to check her out. Two days after she was born, the day after I was released, I signed relinquishment. I got a call later that afternoon, when I was visiting with a very dear friend, Leslie, asking me to go back to the hospital to check her out. I asked if we could have a little more time with her. Luckily, my nurse from the last two days was there and had no problem letting me see her for 45 minutes. She slept on my chest the whole time, curled up and content to listen to me talk. At the end of that 45 minutes...that's when the worst hurt happened. I started crying when they said it was time to go. It took everything I had to put that little girl back in the hospital bed. When I finally pulled her head away from my chest, it literally felt like I was tearing a hole in my chest and my heart was going with her. I felt like I was drowning. The nurse saw what was happening and pulled me into as tight a hug as she could manage. She said, "I don't even know you that well, and I love you so much."
My recovery took years. There is a whole two months of 2006 that I don't remember. I took a nose dive for a full two years and it took me a long time to pull myself out of the trouble I went looking for. Now, almost five years later, I am a lot happier than I've ever been. Being a birth mother sets me apart from a lot of people, but not in a bad way. I have learned a great deal about myself. I've also been able to give life to an incredible little girl and a little girl to a family who couldn't have any more kids. There's still a stigma against adoption, sadly. Maybe that's why they created Birth Mother's day. Either way, speaking as someone who's been there, giving a child up for adoption is not taking the easy way out. It's something you live with for the rest of your life. It's not something you forget. It's an act of love. Pure and simple. We do it because we love our children so much. They deserve everything we can give them. Sometimes, the best thing for a child, is not us.
I hope that this has enlightened someone. I know it'll probably be shocking for some that I put my story on such a public forum, so please forgive me for shocking you. I want people to understand and the way I explain is through story telling. Now you know what it means to be a birth mother. We really aren't so different. We just made different choices.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Communication
Epic fail for me. I started writing this post twice about two different subjects in the last two weeks and I didn't post either of them. I guess I was just waiting for something to really click. Hopefully I can pull it off this week.
The thing that's on my mind most this week is communication...or more specifically, the lack thereof. We have slowly begun to lose our ability to actually communicate things. We rely on our technological advances to assist us with communicating and we don't remember what it's like to say things face to face. Yeah. Huge problem.
Communication is essential to our success as people. We can't get anywhere in life without communicating with someone. We communicate with random people on a daily basis. We communicate with people at the grocery store, or at a restaurant, or through our jobs. That kind of communication is fairly easy. It doesn't make us delve any deeper than what's on the surface..."small talk". The communication I'm talking about is meaningful conversations with people we care about or that care about us. That kind of communication has been disappearing from our lives.
Think about the last time you had a real, in depth conversation with someone. Not the texting or over the phone kind of conversation, but the kind where you're sitting in a room together talking. It doesn't happen much anymore. That kind of contact is left to mobile phones and online social networking. We have "in-depth" conversations with our computers and phones. The question then becomes: why do we spend so much time texting, tweeting, and facebooking when we run much less risk of being misunderstood or misrepresented if we'd just visit with someone?
I think that we are losing our communication skills because we are losing our courage and becoming too dependent on devices that let us "stay connected". Let me start with the losing our courage part. I believe that we are losing courage because we don't have to use it anymore. I've always been taught, and have unfortunately had the chance to prove to myself, that if you don't use a gift, you lose the ability to use it. I play the piano. I find it difficult to play things that used to be easy if I don't practice with some form of regularity. Math? I hated it in school and dropped it outside of school. Now it's murder to try and do some of the things I was taught. The same holds true for courage.
Eleanor Roosevelt said: "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience by which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.'" This kind of applies to communication and today's societal view of communication. When you're face-to-face with someone, you see every facet of their features. If you're good at it, you can tell what a person is thinking just by looking at them. Here's how it ties into courage: When you tell someone how you feel, you have to be witness to the reaction. Not every reaction is good. For me, communicating what I think and feel is difficult because I don't like making people unhappy, and that includes myself. The risk that someone will be hurt is always something I consider and why I often keep my mouth shut.
For example, I went to see an old friend of mine at the end of last year. It was on the way home from visiting my family in Utah, and I hadn't seen him in 11ish years. I was okay with just sitting and listening to him tell me about his life. He was not. He wanted me to talk about my own life. We had been interested in each other, as much as is possible at 13 and 14, and that played a part in what I was willing to say and what I was nervous to divulge. As a result, I spent a lot of the time trying to figure out what to say. The fact that I couldn't say anything was odd for both of us. Why? We'd reconnected on Facebook and had no problems talking over emails and text messages. We both said a lot then. In person, I was very aware of the risk I took by telling him anything that might have meant something. It was terrifying and I was afraid of his reaction. I chickened out. You're gonna laugh at me if you haven't already when I tell you what happened next. When I left, I sent him a text and told him I wasn't normally like that and that I owed him a better night next time I came through. I couldn't even tell him that when I was leaving. I had to wait until I was on my way home and there was no risk I might get hurt.
Don't worry. I'm laughing at myself.
The reasons I listed earlier for our lack of communicating abilities are kind of dependent on each other. I don't believe it's a good idea to blame a decline in our society on the advancement in technologies because I don't believe guns kill people. In my opinion, technology is like a gun. It is a tool that assists someone in doing something less than savory. In this case, because we are so dependent on our technology, it causes a loss in courage like I already discussed. Let me elaborate on the technology end a little even though I've already touched on it.
It is part of the human experience to experience what technology doesn't allow us to. What's the point of living a life where there is no confrontation or no reason to risk everything? That's what these social media and texting outlets are leading us too. In a world where we don't have to face someone and TALK to them, who would choose to do exactly that? It's much safer to hide behind a phone or a website. There is no chance of letting someone see the damage they've done that way. I, myself, am more inclined to say what I feel behind the safety of a phone or website. Realizing what I have in writing this and doing my research for it, that's not all I want to do anymore. There's a strange exhilaration in communicating the way we were meant too. I dare you too try it. Put aside your phone and your facebook and tell someone something important. It doesn't matter what the outcome is. The fact that you have courage enough to attempt it is all you're looking for. That way, the next time you need to talk to someone, you won't be afraid.
The thing that's on my mind most this week is communication...or more specifically, the lack thereof. We have slowly begun to lose our ability to actually communicate things. We rely on our technological advances to assist us with communicating and we don't remember what it's like to say things face to face. Yeah. Huge problem.
Communication is essential to our success as people. We can't get anywhere in life without communicating with someone. We communicate with random people on a daily basis. We communicate with people at the grocery store, or at a restaurant, or through our jobs. That kind of communication is fairly easy. It doesn't make us delve any deeper than what's on the surface..."small talk". The communication I'm talking about is meaningful conversations with people we care about or that care about us. That kind of communication has been disappearing from our lives.
Think about the last time you had a real, in depth conversation with someone. Not the texting or over the phone kind of conversation, but the kind where you're sitting in a room together talking. It doesn't happen much anymore. That kind of contact is left to mobile phones and online social networking. We have "in-depth" conversations with our computers and phones. The question then becomes: why do we spend so much time texting, tweeting, and facebooking when we run much less risk of being misunderstood or misrepresented if we'd just visit with someone?
I think that we are losing our communication skills because we are losing our courage and becoming too dependent on devices that let us "stay connected". Let me start with the losing our courage part. I believe that we are losing courage because we don't have to use it anymore. I've always been taught, and have unfortunately had the chance to prove to myself, that if you don't use a gift, you lose the ability to use it. I play the piano. I find it difficult to play things that used to be easy if I don't practice with some form of regularity. Math? I hated it in school and dropped it outside of school. Now it's murder to try and do some of the things I was taught. The same holds true for courage.
Eleanor Roosevelt said: "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience by which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.'" This kind of applies to communication and today's societal view of communication. When you're face-to-face with someone, you see every facet of their features. If you're good at it, you can tell what a person is thinking just by looking at them. Here's how it ties into courage: When you tell someone how you feel, you have to be witness to the reaction. Not every reaction is good. For me, communicating what I think and feel is difficult because I don't like making people unhappy, and that includes myself. The risk that someone will be hurt is always something I consider and why I often keep my mouth shut.
For example, I went to see an old friend of mine at the end of last year. It was on the way home from visiting my family in Utah, and I hadn't seen him in 11ish years. I was okay with just sitting and listening to him tell me about his life. He was not. He wanted me to talk about my own life. We had been interested in each other, as much as is possible at 13 and 14, and that played a part in what I was willing to say and what I was nervous to divulge. As a result, I spent a lot of the time trying to figure out what to say. The fact that I couldn't say anything was odd for both of us. Why? We'd reconnected on Facebook and had no problems talking over emails and text messages. We both said a lot then. In person, I was very aware of the risk I took by telling him anything that might have meant something. It was terrifying and I was afraid of his reaction. I chickened out. You're gonna laugh at me if you haven't already when I tell you what happened next. When I left, I sent him a text and told him I wasn't normally like that and that I owed him a better night next time I came through. I couldn't even tell him that when I was leaving. I had to wait until I was on my way home and there was no risk I might get hurt.
Don't worry. I'm laughing at myself.
The reasons I listed earlier for our lack of communicating abilities are kind of dependent on each other. I don't believe it's a good idea to blame a decline in our society on the advancement in technologies because I don't believe guns kill people. In my opinion, technology is like a gun. It is a tool that assists someone in doing something less than savory. In this case, because we are so dependent on our technology, it causes a loss in courage like I already discussed. Let me elaborate on the technology end a little even though I've already touched on it.
- In 1900, telephones were scarce. It had been invented almost 30 years earlier, but phone lines didn't stretch the continent like they do now. They were becoming more prominent in major cities, but communication was still dependent on face to face and letter carriers.
- In 1915, Alexander Graham Bell made the first trans-continental phone call from New York to San Fransisco.
- In 1942, the first electronic digital computer was built by John Atanasoff and Clifford Berry
- In 1947, AT&T developed the North American Numbering Plan that assigned phone numbers to individuals. Meaning that was the birth of the 10-digit phone number.
- Also in 1947, the first mobile phones were invented though not sold commercially.
- In 1956, the first computer hard disk was used.
- In 1958, the computer modem was invented. That same year saw the invention of the integrated circuit.
- In 1959, Jack Kilby and Robert Noyce both invented the microchip.
- In 1962, Spacewar became the first computer video game invented.
- 1968 saw the invention of the first computer mouse by Douglas Engelbart, the first computer with integrated circuits, and random access memory (RAM) by Robert Dennard.
- In 1969, we saw the beginnings of the massive outlet that is the Internet in arpanet.
- In the 70's, we were given the floppy disk by Alan Shugart, the word processor, Pong the video game, the Ethernet cable by Robert Metcalfe and Xerox, cell phones and the cray supercomputer by Seymour Cray.
- Here's the list of advances in the 80's: MS-DOS and the IBM-PC were '81, The Apple Lisa in '83, the CD-ROM and the Apple Macintosh in '84, Windows by Microsoft in '85, and digital cell phones in '88.
- And finally, the '90's and 2000's: the World Wide Web, Internet protocol (HTTP), and WWW language (HTML) were created by Tim Berners-Lee in 1990; the first text message was sent in '92; the Pentium processor was invented in '93; the Java computer language and DVD were invented in '95. ; Web TV was '96; 2001 saw the creation of the iPod; Phone tooth by James Auger and Jimmy Loizeau came in 2002; Facebook by Mark Zuckerberg and Intel Express Chips were 2004; YouTube by Steve Chen, Chad Hurley, and Jawed Karim came into being in 2005;
It is part of the human experience to experience what technology doesn't allow us to. What's the point of living a life where there is no confrontation or no reason to risk everything? That's what these social media and texting outlets are leading us too. In a world where we don't have to face someone and TALK to them, who would choose to do exactly that? It's much safer to hide behind a phone or a website. There is no chance of letting someone see the damage they've done that way. I, myself, am more inclined to say what I feel behind the safety of a phone or website. Realizing what I have in writing this and doing my research for it, that's not all I want to do anymore. There's a strange exhilaration in communicating the way we were meant too. I dare you too try it. Put aside your phone and your facebook and tell someone something important. It doesn't matter what the outcome is. The fact that you have courage enough to attempt it is all you're looking for. That way, the next time you need to talk to someone, you won't be afraid.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Planned Parenthood
I almost started this blog with an apology...but I can't do it. Being someone who's been in a situation that might use Planned Parenthood, I refuse to apologize for my opinion.
I try to keep my blog away from anything political. I do not like discussing politics with anyone. I've been in a few arguments about it and it never ends well. That's partly because I don't "debate" well, but that's beside the point. In my opinion, discussing politics with people you care about will turn into fighting about politics with people you used to care about and currently won't talk to anymore. I have plenty of other ways and reasons for people to stop talking to me. Talking about politics is not going to be one because there's not a whole lot I can realistically do about it right now. With all of that being said...I have to talk about it this week.
As I just said, politics is dumb in any setting. In the office, in the government, in a circle of friends; anywhere. I know you can't really have a government without politics, but whatever. Humor me. This week, our government was facing a possibility of a shut down. Unless you've had your head buried in the sand or you just don't like paying attention to the news, you will know that the reason is because the big government Dems and the spinning out of control GOP could not agree on a budget. The budget for our government was supposed to be done in OCTOBER 2010! What month are we on?? Oh yeah. April 2011. Seriously?!
Now, this post is not so much about the outrage that is surrounding the dummies sitting in seats of power...yes, all of them. This is more about the pet project the Dems refused to cut funding for: Planned Parenthood. Planned Parenthood is a clinic that caters to lower income individuals. It helps women who can't afford insurance get the health care they need. There's a bunch of problems with that statement, but that's not what I want to focus on. Planned Parenthood is funded by the government. It is also the leading provider of abortions.
I fully admit that in my research, I've found that none of the funding from the government is allowed to go to abortions. At least, it's not supposed to go to abortions. First of all, who's monitoring where that funding is being distributed and what it's being used for? Are you seriously trying to tell me that in the 235 years since the Constitution was signed and independence was declared and claimed for this country that no one has found a way to creatively describe something on a piece of paper in order to make it appear to be what it isn't? Cause if you are...you're dumb.
I've been doing some research since I found out that this was one of the hang-ups for the budget decision. In 2010 alone, Planned Parenthood reported that it performed 330,000 abortions last year. It's defense was that it was 3% of it's total health care services. That's 3% too much. In contrast, Planned Parenthood reported that their doctors and nurses conduct 1 million screenings for cervical cancer, over 800,000 breast exams, and upwards of 4 million tests and treatments for STD's. While those are all well and good, it's the 3% that I'm concerned about.
Abortion is a tough subject to discuss because it is such a hot topic. For me, abortion is not something that should be considered for anyone but a rape victim. That would be the only reason an abortion should be performed and even then that's not something I would consider lightly. The democrats, and yes most of the ones raising a stink about it are women, are claiming that by cutting the funding for Planned Parenthood the Republicans are trying to "sock it to women". Thank you Senator Feinstein from California for opening your big mouth and rolling your brain around on the table. Guess what. You're dumb.
I am a birth mother. That's not something I recall openly admitting on this blog before, so I'm doing it now. I placed my child in the care of someone more fit to care for her than I was at the time. I did it because it was what my daughter deserved. There are so many families who can't have children who would love to adopt any one of those 330,000 babies who were killed last year. There are so many families who are waiting to love a child that never get an opportunity because the process is so difficult and girls are either single parenting or aborting pregnancies.
I know that a lot of women would say, "It's my body. I should be able to choose what happens to it." My answer to that? DON'T SLEEP AROUND AND GET PREGNANT IN THE FIRST PLACE!! There is an easy solution to the problem of getting pregnant! Hey! I've solved half of the abortions! I'm such a genius. If you don't want a child, do something constructive with your life. There is a reason the institution of marriage was created. It's hard to have faith in it with so many failing anymore...but that doesn't change the fact that every child deserves a chance to live and they deserve a mom and a dad.
It angers me when I see women trying to use the excuse that they're denying us our rights as women. That excuse doesn't fly. An abortion is murder. There is no easy or simple way around that and there is no other way of seeing it. You are killing a child. You are destroying a person who can't defend himself/herself. How is it okay to justify it by saying "It's my body."? I don't understand that mentality. Women are born with mothering tendencies. We are supposed to be the mother. Do I think that means we need to stay in a kitchen all day? Try and tell me to. See how nice that shiner I give you looks in the mirror. It is in our nature to nurture and love in a way men don't. How can anyone justify murdering an innocent child?
Adoption is something I am passionate about and I am more than happy to discuss it with anyone. That part of my life is something I'm not afraid of sharing. It is, unfortunately, also something that's considered taboo. Adoption is looked down upon to this day more than abortion is. People say it's baby farming. People look down on women like me who've given their children to someone else to raise because they think we're taking the easy way out. I wish I could hit every person who ever told any woman who'd placed her child in another woman's arms that she was taking the easy way out. Adoption isn't a bad thing. You are giving the gift of life not only to a beautiful baby, but to a family who may not necessarily be able to have their own. How is that more unnatural or more selfish than abortion?
I've already gotten too passionate about this and am more long winded than I wanted to be, so I'll close with this. Having a child is not something everyone is born prepared to do. Sometimes it happens unexpectedly. There are alternatives to abortion. Try putting the funding towards helping people who have earned the assistance instead of to legalized murder. Consider this: What if your parents had decided to abort you?
I try to keep my blog away from anything political. I do not like discussing politics with anyone. I've been in a few arguments about it and it never ends well. That's partly because I don't "debate" well, but that's beside the point. In my opinion, discussing politics with people you care about will turn into fighting about politics with people you used to care about and currently won't talk to anymore. I have plenty of other ways and reasons for people to stop talking to me. Talking about politics is not going to be one because there's not a whole lot I can realistically do about it right now. With all of that being said...I have to talk about it this week.
As I just said, politics is dumb in any setting. In the office, in the government, in a circle of friends; anywhere. I know you can't really have a government without politics, but whatever. Humor me. This week, our government was facing a possibility of a shut down. Unless you've had your head buried in the sand or you just don't like paying attention to the news, you will know that the reason is because the big government Dems and the spinning out of control GOP could not agree on a budget. The budget for our government was supposed to be done in OCTOBER 2010! What month are we on?? Oh yeah. April 2011. Seriously?!
Now, this post is not so much about the outrage that is surrounding the dummies sitting in seats of power...yes, all of them. This is more about the pet project the Dems refused to cut funding for: Planned Parenthood. Planned Parenthood is a clinic that caters to lower income individuals. It helps women who can't afford insurance get the health care they need. There's a bunch of problems with that statement, but that's not what I want to focus on. Planned Parenthood is funded by the government. It is also the leading provider of abortions.
I fully admit that in my research, I've found that none of the funding from the government is allowed to go to abortions. At least, it's not supposed to go to abortions. First of all, who's monitoring where that funding is being distributed and what it's being used for? Are you seriously trying to tell me that in the 235 years since the Constitution was signed and independence was declared and claimed for this country that no one has found a way to creatively describe something on a piece of paper in order to make it appear to be what it isn't? Cause if you are...you're dumb.
I've been doing some research since I found out that this was one of the hang-ups for the budget decision. In 2010 alone, Planned Parenthood reported that it performed 330,000 abortions last year. It's defense was that it was 3% of it's total health care services. That's 3% too much. In contrast, Planned Parenthood reported that their doctors and nurses conduct 1 million screenings for cervical cancer, over 800,000 breast exams, and upwards of 4 million tests and treatments for STD's. While those are all well and good, it's the 3% that I'm concerned about.
Abortion is a tough subject to discuss because it is such a hot topic. For me, abortion is not something that should be considered for anyone but a rape victim. That would be the only reason an abortion should be performed and even then that's not something I would consider lightly. The democrats, and yes most of the ones raising a stink about it are women, are claiming that by cutting the funding for Planned Parenthood the Republicans are trying to "sock it to women". Thank you Senator Feinstein from California for opening your big mouth and rolling your brain around on the table. Guess what. You're dumb.
I am a birth mother. That's not something I recall openly admitting on this blog before, so I'm doing it now. I placed my child in the care of someone more fit to care for her than I was at the time. I did it because it was what my daughter deserved. There are so many families who can't have children who would love to adopt any one of those 330,000 babies who were killed last year. There are so many families who are waiting to love a child that never get an opportunity because the process is so difficult and girls are either single parenting or aborting pregnancies.
I know that a lot of women would say, "It's my body. I should be able to choose what happens to it." My answer to that? DON'T SLEEP AROUND AND GET PREGNANT IN THE FIRST PLACE!! There is an easy solution to the problem of getting pregnant! Hey! I've solved half of the abortions! I'm such a genius. If you don't want a child, do something constructive with your life. There is a reason the institution of marriage was created. It's hard to have faith in it with so many failing anymore...but that doesn't change the fact that every child deserves a chance to live and they deserve a mom and a dad.
It angers me when I see women trying to use the excuse that they're denying us our rights as women. That excuse doesn't fly. An abortion is murder. There is no easy or simple way around that and there is no other way of seeing it. You are killing a child. You are destroying a person who can't defend himself/herself. How is it okay to justify it by saying "It's my body."? I don't understand that mentality. Women are born with mothering tendencies. We are supposed to be the mother. Do I think that means we need to stay in a kitchen all day? Try and tell me to. See how nice that shiner I give you looks in the mirror. It is in our nature to nurture and love in a way men don't. How can anyone justify murdering an innocent child?
Adoption is something I am passionate about and I am more than happy to discuss it with anyone. That part of my life is something I'm not afraid of sharing. It is, unfortunately, also something that's considered taboo. Adoption is looked down upon to this day more than abortion is. People say it's baby farming. People look down on women like me who've given their children to someone else to raise because they think we're taking the easy way out. I wish I could hit every person who ever told any woman who'd placed her child in another woman's arms that she was taking the easy way out. Adoption isn't a bad thing. You are giving the gift of life not only to a beautiful baby, but to a family who may not necessarily be able to have their own. How is that more unnatural or more selfish than abortion?
I've already gotten too passionate about this and am more long winded than I wanted to be, so I'll close with this. Having a child is not something everyone is born prepared to do. Sometimes it happens unexpectedly. There are alternatives to abortion. Try putting the funding towards helping people who have earned the assistance instead of to legalized murder. Consider this: What if your parents had decided to abort you?
Saturday, April 2, 2011
The Mysteries of Women
I had a conversation with my brothers yesterday that was interesting. When they get started on something, they are ridiculously hilarious and I spend a lot of my time trying not to laugh out loud. Yesterday, I have no idea how we got on the subject, but the conversation started with Remi saying something about Stephane making out during Bible Study or Scripture Study. Most of it was funny. Like I said, when they get goin on something, you have to be quick to get a word in cause they're so back in forth you'll be left in New Mexico while they're already in Georgia. With the Scripture Study/Make-out session argument, they were jokingly accusing each other of misrepresenting their intentions when they go do something with a girl. Then it got to the horrible movies and what they're really made for...and then came the crazy ways of the female race.
I know at least one brother will read this, and I hope he doesn't think that I was offended by anything they said. I'm truly not. I think it's funny when the genders try to unravel the mysteries surrounding each other. While they were bantering back and forth and insisting that most girls are crazy and ridiculous with their default/reset buttons, I felt like this was a good topic for me to blog on.
Let me first tell you that debating with Remi is impossible. He's very, very good...and it's usually very humorous. At least, it's humorous on his part. I've never liked getting in serious arguments with him because I never win. I think there was a little bit of truth to what he was saying yesterday, because I've been in legitimate arguments with him about it. Here's the disclaimer for this blog: My brothers are wonderful men. They have been raised to be gentlemen and would never treat any woman as anything but royalty as long as she acted like she deserved it. What they said was in fun. I'm the one being serious.
Again, this all started because of a discussion about making out. The point was made that it would be so much nicer if people would just say what their intentions are instead of playing the games that come with dating. Then it was countered with that just means we're being honest about using each other. Someone said that's like giving away the end of a book or movie. It takes the fun out of dating. Then someone said that the only reason a guy invites a girl to watch a movie, and I'm adding "by themselves", is to get something to happen and that he's a master of disguise as this means he's using her anyway. I definitely chimed in saying that no girl goes to "watch a movie" without knowing the possibility of "something happening" is there. That started the argument that the mind games girls play are endless and ridiculous, which I agree with...the ridiculous part I mean. So...I guess this is where I want to start laying things out for you.
I've been friends with so many different personalities in both men and women, and what I've learned is this: Some women are very complicated, others are less so. The same is true for men. That's really the only general statement you can make. Here's why I say that: Just because one woman is similar in looks, habits, and even personality to another woman, it does not mean that she will react the same way to anything.
The very bottom line that we build our opinions upon is that no matter how similar we are, we are unique. I had a discussion with someone the other day about how there really is no normal. There's only the socially acceptable and those that have a harder time being socially acceptable. That's a whole different topic for conversation. My point is that you can't make statements about an entire gender because no one but God knows every person. You can make conclusions based on what you've experienced and adjust your own behavior accordingly, but it is unfair to both sexes to make general statements about anything except what is physically gender specific. Even then, with the weirdness that is in this world, sometimes that is called into question.
So, how do you deal with the crazies? The first thing you have to understand, with women at least, is that for most women, the craziness fades. With age and maturity, the mind games become less. Just like with men, the older a woman gets and the more life experiences she has, the more she knows what she wants. A girl who has had no life experiences, just like a guy, is less sure of what she wants and is therefore more prone to do things that make her seem crazy because she doesn't really know better.
The second thing you have to understand is that the thing that drives most women, again you can't really make that much of a general statement, is a need to be loved. I don't know where it comes from or why it is so strong in some people and matters so little to others, but I believe that the desire for someone to love who we are just because we are ourselves is what drives most people. From a very young age, most girls dream Disney Princess style dreams about love. We are filled with the hopes and fantasies that come with grand adventures and a handsome prince to carry us off on his horse back to his castle. "And they lived happily ever after" is something we just know will happen to us. We are too young and too naive to know much of anything about the real world and how it works. Though we eventually are introduced to a much harsher reality, that hope and that dream of our own happily ever after never really goes away.
I think we, as girls, begin to realize our lives won't be filled with that type of adventure, sunsets, and Prince Charming when we start to notice each other as possible Prince Charming's and Snow White's. The trigger for noticing how different our lives will be from the fairy tale stories? Hurt feelings. A broken heart. When I say life experiences, I mean we find out the hard way.
We are cruel to each other. I think men feel the same way girls do for a lot of things. I don't think they want love any less than girls do, despite what the macho way of thinking tells them to say. People become crazy because we make each other that way. I can guarantee you that if I say, "Think about a friend of the opposite sex that you knew in elementary school", you will think, "Yeah. He/She was really cool in elementary school. What happened?". Now think about what I said about doing this to each other.
We become aware of each other as boys and girls in middle school. That's when we first begin to "date" and like each other as more than friends. We don't really know what that means, but we like thinking we're special to someone. When that ends in anything but happily ever after, feelings get hurt. I don't care who you are or what you tell me. If you are broken up with, you're gonna be hurt. That teaches us something. We learn that life isn't like the stories all the time. We learn to be more careful and to guard the thing we cherish the most...our hearts and dreams. The catch is learning to let go.
Here's where I draw on my own experiences. I will be the first to admit that I have been known to be crazy occasionally. I've literally been told I'm the not good kind of crazy more than once. During middle school and high school, I did a lot of dumb things that I cringe to think about now. Even in my later teens and early twenties, I didn't really know how to be a sane girl. It took a life experience and a lot of focusing on being someone I liked to change that. I still have my crazy days, but I've learned how to be sane the rest of the time. I bring this up because if I can do it, so can every other girl that doesn't have legitimate mental problems that require medication.
As people, we are capable of being both incredibly kind and incredibly cruel to one another. I've had both. We become who we are by reacting to influences around us. I think that everything that ever occurs in our lives has a result that directly impacts how we think, how we act, and how we treat each other. When I'm hurting, my reaction is to crawl into my bed and cry until I feel better. I've seen people that hurt lash out at other people so someone else is hurting with them. I've been known to do that too. In normal circumstances, I wouldn't do that. I am always able to choose not to react that way. As a child, I was less able to control my reactions and more prone to allow the bursts of emotion that generally go with the crazy rule how I acted. As an adult, I'm more able to control how I react, but I will always have bouts of crazy. I believe that it's part of who we are.
We are alive to learn. We are born into this world with no cares. As we grow, our cares become like those of Atlas. Our own lives become the weight of the world to each of us. Even Atlas didn't want to bear the weight of the world. We weren't meant to know how to be perfect human beings from infancy. We are here to learn how to be better, do better, and treat others the way we wish to be treated. The mysteries of each gender are not so mysterious. Guys, women are much less complicated when you understand that there are extenuating circumstances and she wants to be loved just like you. Ladies, guys are not the devil. Just because you've had bad experiences with a couple of creeps, who probably were looking for someone to love them too by the way, it does not mean that every other man on this earth is a creep too. People are generally good. You just have to be able to see it and take that chance.
If she is legitimately crazy...refer her to a doctor who can prescribe meds and run as fast as you can in the opposite direction. While I understand legitimately medication-needing-crazy women, even I don't want to deal with their drama. :/
I know at least one brother will read this, and I hope he doesn't think that I was offended by anything they said. I'm truly not. I think it's funny when the genders try to unravel the mysteries surrounding each other. While they were bantering back and forth and insisting that most girls are crazy and ridiculous with their default/reset buttons, I felt like this was a good topic for me to blog on.
Let me first tell you that debating with Remi is impossible. He's very, very good...and it's usually very humorous. At least, it's humorous on his part. I've never liked getting in serious arguments with him because I never win. I think there was a little bit of truth to what he was saying yesterday, because I've been in legitimate arguments with him about it. Here's the disclaimer for this blog: My brothers are wonderful men. They have been raised to be gentlemen and would never treat any woman as anything but royalty as long as she acted like she deserved it. What they said was in fun. I'm the one being serious.
Again, this all started because of a discussion about making out. The point was made that it would be so much nicer if people would just say what their intentions are instead of playing the games that come with dating. Then it was countered with that just means we're being honest about using each other. Someone said that's like giving away the end of a book or movie. It takes the fun out of dating. Then someone said that the only reason a guy invites a girl to watch a movie, and I'm adding "by themselves", is to get something to happen and that he's a master of disguise as this means he's using her anyway. I definitely chimed in saying that no girl goes to "watch a movie" without knowing the possibility of "something happening" is there. That started the argument that the mind games girls play are endless and ridiculous, which I agree with...the ridiculous part I mean. So...I guess this is where I want to start laying things out for you.
I've been friends with so many different personalities in both men and women, and what I've learned is this: Some women are very complicated, others are less so. The same is true for men. That's really the only general statement you can make. Here's why I say that: Just because one woman is similar in looks, habits, and even personality to another woman, it does not mean that she will react the same way to anything.
The very bottom line that we build our opinions upon is that no matter how similar we are, we are unique. I had a discussion with someone the other day about how there really is no normal. There's only the socially acceptable and those that have a harder time being socially acceptable. That's a whole different topic for conversation. My point is that you can't make statements about an entire gender because no one but God knows every person. You can make conclusions based on what you've experienced and adjust your own behavior accordingly, but it is unfair to both sexes to make general statements about anything except what is physically gender specific. Even then, with the weirdness that is in this world, sometimes that is called into question.
So, how do you deal with the crazies? The first thing you have to understand, with women at least, is that for most women, the craziness fades. With age and maturity, the mind games become less. Just like with men, the older a woman gets and the more life experiences she has, the more she knows what she wants. A girl who has had no life experiences, just like a guy, is less sure of what she wants and is therefore more prone to do things that make her seem crazy because she doesn't really know better.
The second thing you have to understand is that the thing that drives most women, again you can't really make that much of a general statement, is a need to be loved. I don't know where it comes from or why it is so strong in some people and matters so little to others, but I believe that the desire for someone to love who we are just because we are ourselves is what drives most people. From a very young age, most girls dream Disney Princess style dreams about love. We are filled with the hopes and fantasies that come with grand adventures and a handsome prince to carry us off on his horse back to his castle. "And they lived happily ever after" is something we just know will happen to us. We are too young and too naive to know much of anything about the real world and how it works. Though we eventually are introduced to a much harsher reality, that hope and that dream of our own happily ever after never really goes away.
I think we, as girls, begin to realize our lives won't be filled with that type of adventure, sunsets, and Prince Charming when we start to notice each other as possible Prince Charming's and Snow White's. The trigger for noticing how different our lives will be from the fairy tale stories? Hurt feelings. A broken heart. When I say life experiences, I mean we find out the hard way.
We are cruel to each other. I think men feel the same way girls do for a lot of things. I don't think they want love any less than girls do, despite what the macho way of thinking tells them to say. People become crazy because we make each other that way. I can guarantee you that if I say, "Think about a friend of the opposite sex that you knew in elementary school", you will think, "Yeah. He/She was really cool in elementary school. What happened?". Now think about what I said about doing this to each other.
We become aware of each other as boys and girls in middle school. That's when we first begin to "date" and like each other as more than friends. We don't really know what that means, but we like thinking we're special to someone. When that ends in anything but happily ever after, feelings get hurt. I don't care who you are or what you tell me. If you are broken up with, you're gonna be hurt. That teaches us something. We learn that life isn't like the stories all the time. We learn to be more careful and to guard the thing we cherish the most...our hearts and dreams. The catch is learning to let go.
Here's where I draw on my own experiences. I will be the first to admit that I have been known to be crazy occasionally. I've literally been told I'm the not good kind of crazy more than once. During middle school and high school, I did a lot of dumb things that I cringe to think about now. Even in my later teens and early twenties, I didn't really know how to be a sane girl. It took a life experience and a lot of focusing on being someone I liked to change that. I still have my crazy days, but I've learned how to be sane the rest of the time. I bring this up because if I can do it, so can every other girl that doesn't have legitimate mental problems that require medication.
As people, we are capable of being both incredibly kind and incredibly cruel to one another. I've had both. We become who we are by reacting to influences around us. I think that everything that ever occurs in our lives has a result that directly impacts how we think, how we act, and how we treat each other. When I'm hurting, my reaction is to crawl into my bed and cry until I feel better. I've seen people that hurt lash out at other people so someone else is hurting with them. I've been known to do that too. In normal circumstances, I wouldn't do that. I am always able to choose not to react that way. As a child, I was less able to control my reactions and more prone to allow the bursts of emotion that generally go with the crazy rule how I acted. As an adult, I'm more able to control how I react, but I will always have bouts of crazy. I believe that it's part of who we are.
We are alive to learn. We are born into this world with no cares. As we grow, our cares become like those of Atlas. Our own lives become the weight of the world to each of us. Even Atlas didn't want to bear the weight of the world. We weren't meant to know how to be perfect human beings from infancy. We are here to learn how to be better, do better, and treat others the way we wish to be treated. The mysteries of each gender are not so mysterious. Guys, women are much less complicated when you understand that there are extenuating circumstances and she wants to be loved just like you. Ladies, guys are not the devil. Just because you've had bad experiences with a couple of creeps, who probably were looking for someone to love them too by the way, it does not mean that every other man on this earth is a creep too. People are generally good. You just have to be able to see it and take that chance.
If she is legitimately crazy...refer her to a doctor who can prescribe meds and run as fast as you can in the opposite direction. While I understand legitimately medication-needing-crazy women, even I don't want to deal with their drama. :/
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Entitlement 1.0
Ok. So, I guess I need to clarify what I was trying to say in last weeks post just a little bit. I was little all over the place in the way I was laying things out so it's no wonder some of what I said was less than understandable.
When I hear the word entitlement, I instantly think of a spoiled rotten child who thinks he deserves the world on a silver platter. In my mind, not even and king deserves that. My point in last weeks post is that if you want something, work for it. My generation is one of the least likely to work for something. We'd much rather sit back and wait for it to come to us.
The point was made when I posted this on Facebook that in the LDS church, we're taught that children are entitled to a married mother and father who honor those promises they made at marriage. I will tread delicately here as I think this is a bit of a difficult subject to discuss. No one who has not been in a situation that might require raising a child on their own can say that they know exactly how they would handle the situation were they not able to remain with their spouse/significant other. That's not saying that a child isn't entitled to a mom and a dad. I have my own opinions on that, but they will have to wait for another post. The point in this is that we are not the judges. Sometimes there are extenuating circumstances that cannot be helped and a mother or a father who finds themselves in those situations need only answer to his/her own conscience and make peace with whatever God they believe in.
Now, in my original posting, I was pointing out two principles really: Work and gratitude, both of which seem to be slowly disappearing in todays youth. As one of todays youth, I can call on my own experiences here as I'm just as guilty as many of my fellow young adults and teenagers.
I think that if we were to live in any other time than now, we would not survive. All through history, we have examples of how empires were built, wars were fought, and freedoms were won. None of them has been a result of a get-rich-quick scheme. All life was based around work. The fields were sewn and cared for, cities were built, roads were paved, and lives were created by applying a little elbow grease. Once, most of this world was unexplored and new. There was a lot of work to be done. Maybe part of the reason we don't work as hard is because there aren't many new frontiers. There is no Dances with Wolves esque lifestyle for us to experience where we meet strange people we've never really seen before. We have reached a limit...unless we launch into a Star Trek lifestyle which I don't see happening anytime soon. I will admit that that may well be part of why we don't work as hard in the manual labor fields, but at the same time there is always work to do.
When I think of why the principle of work has changed, a story comes to mind. The story of John Henry. I know most of us are familiar with it, but I'll give a very short, probably not very accurate recap. John Henry was a man who worked on the railroad when it was being laid to cross the nation. He was a giant of a man. He worked harder and longer than any other man alive. He would go around singing and swinging his hammer, driving the spikes in faster and farther than any other man. Eventually, a man with a new invention came around looking for John Henry. He claimed he's steam driven machine could beat any man alive at driving a railroad spike into the ground, thus eliminating the need for the manual labor that John Henry loved doing. John Henry accepted the challenge. For the good of the men he worked with and for himself, John Henry worked hard to beat the steam powered hammer...and he did. The mountain of a man who drove steel harder and faster than any other man alive beat the machine that had been created to best him...only to die in his victory.
I tell that story because growing up, John Henry was a symbol to me of what it meant to work. I was fascinated by his story though no one ever really knew. He worked hard and long because he loved what he did and it had to be done. That fact has not changed and will never change...the work itself has just shifted.
I am a child of the late 80's/early 90's. I remember all the weird fashion and the sometimes waaaay over the top singers and cheesy movies. I remember when technology started changing. I remember our first computer way back in the day...boy was that thing basic. I remember the cell phones then. I don't know that I ever could have imagined them being what they are now. I don't have an appreciation for what life was like 20 years earlier just as children now don't have any idea what I'm talking about. They instead are taught that 4 year olds with cell phones is normal, or an xbox 360 is something every kid is supposed to have. That may not be something a parent comes out and says, but actions will always speak louder than words.
In my last post, I said that parents are responsible for teaching a child how to be a person. What I meant was that children watch us. They mimic everyone. My nephew, for instance, has taken to repeating the word Goonies every time we say it. I'm sure my brother will teach him the whole phrase the Goonies say. See the point though? If he mimics what we say now, at a year and a half, how much else is he watching us say and do? It is my brother and sister-in-laws responsibility to teach him not only through their words, but through their example. If he sees them working hard, he'll learn to work hard too. That is the case with every child. Every child is experiencing the world with a new perspective and they will do what those closest to them do. That is why, statistically, when a parent has trouble in their lives, a child is likely to repeat it. Therefore, a parent who is interested in the well being of their child is responsible for teaching their children to work for everything they have.
As I said in my last posting, my family works when we have big projects to do. We've done things like repainting our house, putting up a new fence, taking down backyard playground equipment, moving homes, weeding gardens, and doing general yard work. I should say that we were better at doing that before we grew up and our parents couldn't take away much of anything to threaten us anymore. When we were younger, anytime there was big project to do, we all helped. Now, the only time you really see us working together is when the cars need to be washed...and my dad did his truck almost completely by himself the other day. My mother mowed the lawn this morning because my brother and I didn't want to get up and take the mower away from her and do it for her.
My parents taught us how to work. They would work with us and show us how to do things. I don't remember them ever telling us we had work to do and then them not coming out and working with us. That's not the norm anymore. Now, we tell ourselves that we won't be as mean and cruel as our parents were and we won't force our own children to suffer the way we did. How, in the name of everything that is good on this earth, is working suffering?? When did it become so wrong to teach a child that working is the best way to get what you need? When did it become such a horrible thing to do manual labor? How have we forgotten the benefits and the rewards that come from accomplishing a seemingly giant job? Why is it so much better to give a child what he wants simply because he's screaming for it, rather than teach him how he can earn it?
I don't know where the disconnect happened. I don't know how we've gone from a people who worked hard for everything they had, to a people who are headed to a fate like the people in Wall-E. I don't know how that happened. I do know how to fix it. Work. Work will cure a great many things. It lifts the heart that has been damaged and helps others with what they need. The end reward, the knowledge that you did everything you could to accomplish what you needed to and the strength to push through one more day, is more than enough for me. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
When I hear the word entitlement, I instantly think of a spoiled rotten child who thinks he deserves the world on a silver platter. In my mind, not even and king deserves that. My point in last weeks post is that if you want something, work for it. My generation is one of the least likely to work for something. We'd much rather sit back and wait for it to come to us.
The point was made when I posted this on Facebook that in the LDS church, we're taught that children are entitled to a married mother and father who honor those promises they made at marriage. I will tread delicately here as I think this is a bit of a difficult subject to discuss. No one who has not been in a situation that might require raising a child on their own can say that they know exactly how they would handle the situation were they not able to remain with their spouse/significant other. That's not saying that a child isn't entitled to a mom and a dad. I have my own opinions on that, but they will have to wait for another post. The point in this is that we are not the judges. Sometimes there are extenuating circumstances that cannot be helped and a mother or a father who finds themselves in those situations need only answer to his/her own conscience and make peace with whatever God they believe in.
Now, in my original posting, I was pointing out two principles really: Work and gratitude, both of which seem to be slowly disappearing in todays youth. As one of todays youth, I can call on my own experiences here as I'm just as guilty as many of my fellow young adults and teenagers.
I think that if we were to live in any other time than now, we would not survive. All through history, we have examples of how empires were built, wars were fought, and freedoms were won. None of them has been a result of a get-rich-quick scheme. All life was based around work. The fields were sewn and cared for, cities were built, roads were paved, and lives were created by applying a little elbow grease. Once, most of this world was unexplored and new. There was a lot of work to be done. Maybe part of the reason we don't work as hard is because there aren't many new frontiers. There is no Dances with Wolves esque lifestyle for us to experience where we meet strange people we've never really seen before. We have reached a limit...unless we launch into a Star Trek lifestyle which I don't see happening anytime soon. I will admit that that may well be part of why we don't work as hard in the manual labor fields, but at the same time there is always work to do.
When I think of why the principle of work has changed, a story comes to mind. The story of John Henry. I know most of us are familiar with it, but I'll give a very short, probably not very accurate recap. John Henry was a man who worked on the railroad when it was being laid to cross the nation. He was a giant of a man. He worked harder and longer than any other man alive. He would go around singing and swinging his hammer, driving the spikes in faster and farther than any other man. Eventually, a man with a new invention came around looking for John Henry. He claimed he's steam driven machine could beat any man alive at driving a railroad spike into the ground, thus eliminating the need for the manual labor that John Henry loved doing. John Henry accepted the challenge. For the good of the men he worked with and for himself, John Henry worked hard to beat the steam powered hammer...and he did. The mountain of a man who drove steel harder and faster than any other man alive beat the machine that had been created to best him...only to die in his victory.
I tell that story because growing up, John Henry was a symbol to me of what it meant to work. I was fascinated by his story though no one ever really knew. He worked hard and long because he loved what he did and it had to be done. That fact has not changed and will never change...the work itself has just shifted.
I am a child of the late 80's/early 90's. I remember all the weird fashion and the sometimes waaaay over the top singers and cheesy movies. I remember when technology started changing. I remember our first computer way back in the day...boy was that thing basic. I remember the cell phones then. I don't know that I ever could have imagined them being what they are now. I don't have an appreciation for what life was like 20 years earlier just as children now don't have any idea what I'm talking about. They instead are taught that 4 year olds with cell phones is normal, or an xbox 360 is something every kid is supposed to have. That may not be something a parent comes out and says, but actions will always speak louder than words.
In my last post, I said that parents are responsible for teaching a child how to be a person. What I meant was that children watch us. They mimic everyone. My nephew, for instance, has taken to repeating the word Goonies every time we say it. I'm sure my brother will teach him the whole phrase the Goonies say. See the point though? If he mimics what we say now, at a year and a half, how much else is he watching us say and do? It is my brother and sister-in-laws responsibility to teach him not only through their words, but through their example. If he sees them working hard, he'll learn to work hard too. That is the case with every child. Every child is experiencing the world with a new perspective and they will do what those closest to them do. That is why, statistically, when a parent has trouble in their lives, a child is likely to repeat it. Therefore, a parent who is interested in the well being of their child is responsible for teaching their children to work for everything they have.
As I said in my last posting, my family works when we have big projects to do. We've done things like repainting our house, putting up a new fence, taking down backyard playground equipment, moving homes, weeding gardens, and doing general yard work. I should say that we were better at doing that before we grew up and our parents couldn't take away much of anything to threaten us anymore. When we were younger, anytime there was big project to do, we all helped. Now, the only time you really see us working together is when the cars need to be washed...and my dad did his truck almost completely by himself the other day. My mother mowed the lawn this morning because my brother and I didn't want to get up and take the mower away from her and do it for her.
My parents taught us how to work. They would work with us and show us how to do things. I don't remember them ever telling us we had work to do and then them not coming out and working with us. That's not the norm anymore. Now, we tell ourselves that we won't be as mean and cruel as our parents were and we won't force our own children to suffer the way we did. How, in the name of everything that is good on this earth, is working suffering?? When did it become so wrong to teach a child that working is the best way to get what you need? When did it become such a horrible thing to do manual labor? How have we forgotten the benefits and the rewards that come from accomplishing a seemingly giant job? Why is it so much better to give a child what he wants simply because he's screaming for it, rather than teach him how he can earn it?
I don't know where the disconnect happened. I don't know how we've gone from a people who worked hard for everything they had, to a people who are headed to a fate like the people in Wall-E. I don't know how that happened. I do know how to fix it. Work. Work will cure a great many things. It lifts the heart that has been damaged and helps others with what they need. The end reward, the knowledge that you did everything you could to accomplish what you needed to and the strength to push through one more day, is more than enough for me. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Entitlement
So, I started a whole different post the other day. Through the course of a conversation with a friend of mine, I decided to go with a different topic. I'm gonna post this with a disclaimer. It may very well offend a few people. Please know that's not my intent. I just feel like this is something that needs to be discussed.
Entitlement is something I've heard a lot about growing up. I think each generation thinks their children and grandchildren act like they are much more entitled than they were. I can see that and agree with it honestly. With each generation we get advances in almost everything. I'm still shocked to see my nephew, who is a year and a half, navigate his way through an itouch without any help. I have nephews in utah with iPads and they are all 12 and under. I also see kids with their own iPhones. Kids here meaning first graders and kindergartners. Yeah. Lots of advances.
Let me first put a definition of entitlement before you. Webster's dictionary defines entitlement as a: the state or condition of being entitled, and b: a right to benefits specified especially by law or contract. In some instances, being entitled to something is the truth. I thing military veterans are entitled to our respect simply because of what they do for us. That entitlement I'm ok with. It's the other crap I have a problem with.
My generation is probably the laziest, and most selfish group of people ever. I include myself in that. We feel like, for reasons I can't figure out, that we deserve to be spoon fed everything. We have lost the principle of work.
Work has been a part of humanity since we were created. Adam was cursed with it. It has been our responsibility to create a life and a home and an existence. We, of the current young adult/teenage generation, seem to think that we are exempt from this rule. We believe that even though every generation prior to ours has had to work for what they have, we somehow shouldn't have too.
Now, I'm not saying that every member of my generation is an entitled brat. However, there are far fewer individuals willing to work for the end reward. I have caught myself even wishing that I didn't have to work for anything. The other day I told my mom that I needed a get rich quick program so I wouldn't have to go to work anymore.
So, where does this sense of entitlement come from? Well, I have a few theories on that:
First, children learn from adults. I'm not blaming just parents. There are plenty of adults responsible for shaping a child into a responsible adult. Teachers, church leaders, friends parents...there are quite a few. From what I can see, adults try to not do things the way their parents did them, not realizing that some of those things would probably be the wiser choice to make. I bet, even as you're reading this, that you can think of a few things your parents did that you are planning to do differently when/if you have children. That is just the beginning of how adults influence children into believing they "deserve" things.
The other way I see children learning that sense of entitlement is from media and other influences. My generation idolizes pop culture more in this generation than any other except for maybe the 60's. We have actors getting into politics for crying out loud and that's just about one of the dumbest things I've ever heard. I have to derail that train of thought right now or I'll get on my soap box and not make the point I feel needs to be made. However, between movie stars, singers, and athletes, children are so indoctrinated into believing that they deserve everything and they shouldn't have to work for it.
It is a parents responsibility to teach a child to work. As much as it truly pains me to say that, because I know my parents will take it personally if they ever read this, but it is true. A parent has the most influence over a child and the most responsibility. They are in charge of a child's well-being in a unique way. A teacher is responsible for teaching knowledge you can learn in books as well as life-skills...but a parent is responsible for teaching a child how to be a person. It is a parents responsibility to teach their children how to work, how to treat other people, discipline, and other life lessons that could be taught elsewhere but will have the most impact coming from a mother or father.
Growing up, work was something my dad in particular stressed. Whenever there was a big job to do, no matter how much we groaned and complained about it, all six of us kids were out helping. It's gotten to the point where it's fun for me. I love working with my family because it brings us closer. I remember several projects my family completed together that I had no interest in doing at the time. One in particular was just this huge beast of an ordeal. In our house in Colorado, we had a hill with big juniper bushes on it. My parents decided it would be best if they weren't there anymore...guess who got to pull them up. Yep. All of us. My brother and I, being older and stronger than any of the siblings, took point so to speak and did a lot of the heavier lifting. The younger boys and my sister clipped the stupid things way back so we could get a hold of the roots. The image that comes to mind of this whole escapade is one of me and Stephane pushing and pulling on a bush right in the middle of the backyard that refused to give up its grasp in the earth. I don't know how long we worked at that thing, but it was a while and it was DIFFICULT. That has become one of my favorite memories. We didn't have many projects like that growing up and we generally still don't now, but when we had work to do, we all worked hard.
That is not me saying we need to go out and pull up a ton of juniper bushes to qualify as hard working. According to my parents, we still don't know what hard work means. That's an example of the kind of work that our parents did frequently...as did their parents...and their parents parents. Granted, some of the reason we don't work hard anymore is because we have machines and computers to do that for us. Why expend the energy working at something that a computer could do better and faster? Answer: A computer can't teach you the sweetness of the reward at the end of a long day of hard work.
What do I mean by that? After my family accomplished the goal of pulling out those stupid junipers, we got rootbeer floats and rented a movie. Most of us were also asleep before we got halfway in. The best reward for me, though, is the sweet memories I have of working side by side with my brothers, my sister, and my parents. That may not be enough for some people, but it taught me to value the end result because it's not something you can get anywhere else.
I want to put another example before you and I hope the person this is about will forgive me. I'm not passing judgement on him or on anyone else...this just happens to be the perfect example of an entitled child.
I knew of a boy growing up who was taught by his teachers that the only way he would know if his parents loved him was by how much money they were willing to put towards his extra curricular activities. I don't think he really understood that that's what they were teaching him, but I saw it the minute I heard about it. He was involved in a great many things outside of a regular school experience and he expected his parents to pay for all of it. I believe that part of the reason they did was because they felt guilty about some of their other children not being able to participate in those things. Regardless, if they didn't pay for something he felt he needed or was told he needed, his parents definitely knew it. I'm not trying to say that children should not be allowed to participate in extracurricular activities. I think they are wonderful programs and I wish I'd been able to do some of them. My point is, this boy felt like he deserved it...and he didn't. Right now, I'm not sure that boy really even enjoys the memories of those activities. How different do you think that would be had he worked for what he had instead of it being given to him?
I don't want anyone to think I'm discouraging people from wanting things. I have big dreams for myself and I wish that I didn't have to work for it. I am by far not exempt from that feeling of entitlement. I just wish that our generation knew what it means to work for and appreciate the things we can get by the sweat of our brow. Nothing is more important to us than the thing we WORKED so hard to achieve. The question then becomes: What will you teach your children?
Entitlement is something I've heard a lot about growing up. I think each generation thinks their children and grandchildren act like they are much more entitled than they were. I can see that and agree with it honestly. With each generation we get advances in almost everything. I'm still shocked to see my nephew, who is a year and a half, navigate his way through an itouch without any help. I have nephews in utah with iPads and they are all 12 and under. I also see kids with their own iPhones. Kids here meaning first graders and kindergartners. Yeah. Lots of advances.
Let me first put a definition of entitlement before you. Webster's dictionary defines entitlement as a: the state or condition of being entitled, and b: a right to benefits specified especially by law or contract. In some instances, being entitled to something is the truth. I thing military veterans are entitled to our respect simply because of what they do for us. That entitlement I'm ok with. It's the other crap I have a problem with.
My generation is probably the laziest, and most selfish group of people ever. I include myself in that. We feel like, for reasons I can't figure out, that we deserve to be spoon fed everything. We have lost the principle of work.
Work has been a part of humanity since we were created. Adam was cursed with it. It has been our responsibility to create a life and a home and an existence. We, of the current young adult/teenage generation, seem to think that we are exempt from this rule. We believe that even though every generation prior to ours has had to work for what they have, we somehow shouldn't have too.
Now, I'm not saying that every member of my generation is an entitled brat. However, there are far fewer individuals willing to work for the end reward. I have caught myself even wishing that I didn't have to work for anything. The other day I told my mom that I needed a get rich quick program so I wouldn't have to go to work anymore.
So, where does this sense of entitlement come from? Well, I have a few theories on that:
First, children learn from adults. I'm not blaming just parents. There are plenty of adults responsible for shaping a child into a responsible adult. Teachers, church leaders, friends parents...there are quite a few. From what I can see, adults try to not do things the way their parents did them, not realizing that some of those things would probably be the wiser choice to make. I bet, even as you're reading this, that you can think of a few things your parents did that you are planning to do differently when/if you have children. That is just the beginning of how adults influence children into believing they "deserve" things.
The other way I see children learning that sense of entitlement is from media and other influences. My generation idolizes pop culture more in this generation than any other except for maybe the 60's. We have actors getting into politics for crying out loud and that's just about one of the dumbest things I've ever heard. I have to derail that train of thought right now or I'll get on my soap box and not make the point I feel needs to be made. However, between movie stars, singers, and athletes, children are so indoctrinated into believing that they deserve everything and they shouldn't have to work for it.
It is a parents responsibility to teach a child to work. As much as it truly pains me to say that, because I know my parents will take it personally if they ever read this, but it is true. A parent has the most influence over a child and the most responsibility. They are in charge of a child's well-being in a unique way. A teacher is responsible for teaching knowledge you can learn in books as well as life-skills...but a parent is responsible for teaching a child how to be a person. It is a parents responsibility to teach their children how to work, how to treat other people, discipline, and other life lessons that could be taught elsewhere but will have the most impact coming from a mother or father.
Growing up, work was something my dad in particular stressed. Whenever there was a big job to do, no matter how much we groaned and complained about it, all six of us kids were out helping. It's gotten to the point where it's fun for me. I love working with my family because it brings us closer. I remember several projects my family completed together that I had no interest in doing at the time. One in particular was just this huge beast of an ordeal. In our house in Colorado, we had a hill with big juniper bushes on it. My parents decided it would be best if they weren't there anymore...guess who got to pull them up. Yep. All of us. My brother and I, being older and stronger than any of the siblings, took point so to speak and did a lot of the heavier lifting. The younger boys and my sister clipped the stupid things way back so we could get a hold of the roots. The image that comes to mind of this whole escapade is one of me and Stephane pushing and pulling on a bush right in the middle of the backyard that refused to give up its grasp in the earth. I don't know how long we worked at that thing, but it was a while and it was DIFFICULT. That has become one of my favorite memories. We didn't have many projects like that growing up and we generally still don't now, but when we had work to do, we all worked hard.
That is not me saying we need to go out and pull up a ton of juniper bushes to qualify as hard working. According to my parents, we still don't know what hard work means. That's an example of the kind of work that our parents did frequently...as did their parents...and their parents parents. Granted, some of the reason we don't work hard anymore is because we have machines and computers to do that for us. Why expend the energy working at something that a computer could do better and faster? Answer: A computer can't teach you the sweetness of the reward at the end of a long day of hard work.
What do I mean by that? After my family accomplished the goal of pulling out those stupid junipers, we got rootbeer floats and rented a movie. Most of us were also asleep before we got halfway in. The best reward for me, though, is the sweet memories I have of working side by side with my brothers, my sister, and my parents. That may not be enough for some people, but it taught me to value the end result because it's not something you can get anywhere else.
I want to put another example before you and I hope the person this is about will forgive me. I'm not passing judgement on him or on anyone else...this just happens to be the perfect example of an entitled child.
I knew of a boy growing up who was taught by his teachers that the only way he would know if his parents loved him was by how much money they were willing to put towards his extra curricular activities. I don't think he really understood that that's what they were teaching him, but I saw it the minute I heard about it. He was involved in a great many things outside of a regular school experience and he expected his parents to pay for all of it. I believe that part of the reason they did was because they felt guilty about some of their other children not being able to participate in those things. Regardless, if they didn't pay for something he felt he needed or was told he needed, his parents definitely knew it. I'm not trying to say that children should not be allowed to participate in extracurricular activities. I think they are wonderful programs and I wish I'd been able to do some of them. My point is, this boy felt like he deserved it...and he didn't. Right now, I'm not sure that boy really even enjoys the memories of those activities. How different do you think that would be had he worked for what he had instead of it being given to him?
I don't want anyone to think I'm discouraging people from wanting things. I have big dreams for myself and I wish that I didn't have to work for it. I am by far not exempt from that feeling of entitlement. I just wish that our generation knew what it means to work for and appreciate the things we can get by the sweat of our brow. Nothing is more important to us than the thing we WORKED so hard to achieve. The question then becomes: What will you teach your children?
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Addiction
So this week I again had trouble organizing my thoughts into a coherent stream that I could write about something. I missed last week so I feel like this week is doubly important. There's been so much on my mind in the last two weeks I don't really know where to begin.
I started this post thinking I was going to talk about priorities. At the beginning of last week, I had a conversation with a coworker that kind of set a few things into perspective for me about something that's been kind of a bother. I was going to do a post about priorities because no matter what age we're at, our priorities are constantly changing. In my family alone, priorities are so varied. For example: My personal priorities right now are to get my house in order. I'm 25 and I live with my parents. I don't want to so I'm getting my life together to facilitate moving past this stage of my life; My sister has never had much of a social life. At 23, she's just now beginning to have the kind of attention and social life that I had at 19. She's learning things about life I've known for many years; Remi, one of my brothers...actually, I don't really know what his priorities are. I know that he just got a job that pays really well and he's been talking about moving out. At 21, his priorities seem to be close to mine...but then he does things sometimes that contradict that. So we'll say his priorities are unknown for now; Rayo's priorities seem to be to save money and go on a two year mission for our church. I say seem to be, because sometimes he does what Remi does and contradicts that assumption of mine; Nick, the youngest, really doesn't have a choice in his priorities yet. He's a junior in high school and is focused on graduating. His choices of late are no different than most of ours were when we were his age. His priority, following school, is his friends. His family has taken a back seat...but like I said, we've all been there at one point or another. My parents...they're just trying to keep us all together and headed down the right path.
The point with priorities is that every person has their own. This doesn't make anyone more or less right for focusing on what's important to them. You can disagree with someone's priorities if you wish, but you can't condemn them. Just because it's not your current priority or you think it's something that someone should have learned already, it doesn't mean that it wasn't your priority at one time. We are all learning. None of us has an answer that will work for everyone. There is no such answer. I take it back...if I were to give you an answer to help you understand different peoples priorities it would be two words: Patience, and tolerance. If you want to get through this life in tact, become very good friends with those words and implement them in your life.
Ok, that's the first thing I was going to talk about. I could probably elaborate on that subject quite a bit, but I don't really feel like it's necessary right now.
Another subject I'd planned on blogging about was the situation with BYU basketball player Brandon Davies. I won't spend too long on this as most of the country was consumed by it for what I thought was an unneccessary amount of time.
I was impressed with not only Davies for coming forward and telling the truth, but also with much of the media who agreed with BYU for their disciplinary actions. I don't have official numbers or anything, but in one article I read online, the author said that most colleges have similar honor codes in place...but look the other direction when it's a star athlete. Most people do not agree with the BYU honor code. It's very strict and not at all what most people think 20 somethings should be doing with their lives. Much of the world does the opposite. College is for drinking and sleeping around and exploring the world in your own way. Whether you agree with the LDS standards in place at BYU or not, you can't fault a school for standing by it's principles and holding those who break that code accountable for their actions. We are still children learning from parents in college. Just because we are on our own and providing for ourselves does not mean we don't need guidance occasionally. By enforcing it's honor code, BYU is showing the world that there is no one, star athlete or not, who should not be held accountable for what they've done. Case and point, Ben Roethlisberger. In fact, most of the NFL...and NBA....and MLB....not so sure about the NHL, but you get the point. How is it that men who are known criminals and low lives get paid to do something they love knowing full well they can get away with almost anything? Call me crazy, but that is just madness. And that's all I'm gonna say about that. Good on ya, BYU.
Now, what I want to spend most of my time on is something that has claimed much of my life, my heart, and my soul. Addiction.
I'm not necessarily talking about addiction to drugs or alcohol. I am most definitely not addicted to either one, but I have an addictive personality. Were I to venture into that world and allow myself to partake in any of that, I know that I would have a serious problem.
Addiction affects everyone, I think. There are so many things we can be addicted to and most we don't even realize. For instance, I am addicted to Mountain Dew. That's kind of an easy one. Caffeine is addicting. Drink it enough and you get addicted. Mountain Dew=addicted Kati.
I'm also addicted to movies. You should see my movie collection. I love escaping into the world created by movies. It's how I unwind...but I have a hard time going a day without one. Movies=addicted Kati.
I'm also addicted to a few people who are not good for me. A lot of people have that one person in their life that does nothing for them. He/she does nothing to contribute to our lives in a good way. He/she is the leach on everything that is important to us. They draw on our emotional, physical, mental, and sometimes financial reserves. Certain people=addicted Kati.
Now, those are only some of the ways we can be addicted to things. In any form, addiction can be devastating. There's always the obvious damage caused by drugs and alcohol. Drugs have played a major role in my life and shaping me into who I am today. Many people are not as lucky as I was to come out relatively healthy and whole. Drugs and alcohol are the most destructive forms of addiction in my opinion. They damage our souls.
I've seen people and heard stories of substance abuse and what it's done to other families and friends. Movies are for me what drugs and alcohol are to drug addicts and alcoholics...a way to escape. The pull of the chemically altered brain is so intense that eventually, a person goes from being normal and healthy and happy to someone who can't bear living their life without those chemicals. They can sometimes see what that habit is doing to their lives, but more often than not, their own psychological need and desire trumps the needs of anyone or anything else. When you're higher than a kite, or so completely wasted that you can't stand, your cares and worries no longer exist...at least until you sober up.
I'm going to let you in on a secret. There is a key to all of this. Wanna know what it is?
Emotion.
Most of the stories I've heard involve people who are responding to things that have happened to them or in their lives. It's very rare for me to hear about someone becoming an addict just because they could. Even in my semi minor addictions, the key is emotion. I react to outside influences that provoke an emotional reaction. I feel the need to unwind in front of the tv for two hours. For major things like drug and alcohol abuse, the story usually has something to do with a big event in the persons life.
Our emotions are tricky little buggers. Our hearts and our souls are what make us unique. Different people react differently to different outside influences. For some people, the road to alcohol abuse may be triggered by something that seems relatively minor to other people. Then there are triggers like job loss, divorce, bankruptcy, and physical and sexual abuse. With all of these events, some form of emotion is experienced. The difference between regular people and addicts is how we chose to deal with those types of tragedies.
I have a few examples. I'm not going to name names, but if the people these stories are about read this, they'll know I'm referring to them and hopefully will understand my purpose. I have four stories.
First, the story of a male friend of mine. He was a Air Force MP and served in Iraq. He's told me stories of his deployment, but when he told them, he was so beyond wasted, that I don't really know if I should believe most of it. In all stories, there is a small margin of truth. Anyway. He served in the AF until the summer of 2008 when he was discharged. He had a mark on his record for an investigation into an incident where he was accused of "playing around" with his loaded weapon. The charges were eventually dropped, but the mark stayed. In 2008, the AF cut back on its personnel. My friend was a cut. He was devastated by it. He'd planned on serving his whole life in the military and didn't know what he was going to do. Well, he became a drunk who's best friends were the good Captain Morgan and Jack Daniels. I took care of him. He'd call me at 11 at night, knowing I had to be at work at 8 and I'd race up to his house to take care of him. I'd usually find him already drunk and he was not a good drunk. He ended up sending a drunk text to a few people, one of whom took it to mean that he wanted to committ suicide and he was in the hospital on suicide watch for two or three days. His hospital stay did nothing for him. I eventually moved home. I got a call from him about a month later. He was panicking and needed my advice. He told me that the night before, he'd blacked out but somehow managed to go to the place he worked, steal the alcohol, and dump it over the side of a cliff. I know, not very smart. He turned himself in, but even that wasn't enough to get him to change things. He finally changed when he ended up in prison for a parole violation. He was on parole because he ran into a parked car because he was driving while drunk. Yeah. It gets better and better, huh?
On to the next story:
I know of a girl who didn't get addicted to drugs or alcohol, but for a long time was addicted to the validation that came with being degraded. I'm not meaning the good kind of validation. She dated men who treated her horribly because it's how she felt about herself. This girl, woman now, is LDS and served a two year mission in Argentina I believe. After she came home, the unthinkable happened and she was raped. Not once, but twice. That's a pretty harrowing experience for anyone to go through. At first, she didn't deal with it real well. She spiralled downward for a long time. Anytime I saw her, I was amazed that no one else could see just how much she was struggling. It's like, this woman that I love was drowning and no one understood enough about what she was going through to lay flat on their stomachs on the side of the pool and stretch out their hands to help her up. Many tried, but when you have no knowledge of what those experiences are like, your hand has no solidity. I did what I could when I could, but it wasn't enough. She didn't think she was worth very much and dated slime who validated that feeling. Honestly, I don't think she consciously did that. I believe that much of what she chose to let in her life at the time was a result of subconscious decisions. She felt worthless and wasn't ready to deal with the idea that maybe she wasn't.
Next story:
This is about another man. When he was very young, his mother and father both worked a great deal of the time. One day, his mom left him with the babysitter. The babysitter did the unthinkable and traumatized this man at a very young age. I'm sorry, that's the best way for me to water that down. This man started using drugs at the tender age of eleven. When I met him, he was 24 and a hard core crystal meth addict. He could not handle the abuse he sustained as a child. With his parents occupied with three younger siblings and jobs to go too, he turned to the only thing he thought was available to him. Weed. In the beginning, that's all it was. It helped him calm down and focus enough to live...but it soon escalated into the much harder drugs. I remember one occasion at his house. His sister was at a church meeting and he'd been awake for two weeks straight. He literally was walking around the house carrying anything he could swing because cars were creeping by his house. I knew his sister was coming home and I didn't want him scaring the people bringing her...so I leaned against the door and refused to move. He got into my face and yelled, threatening to hit me if I didn't let him out to check on things outside. His house, that he thought people were creeping by, was on a corner with a stop sign. They were slowing down because it was the law. Later that same night, he told me he was seeing shadow people and trash people. His addiction was so strong that he could not clean himself up to take care of the girl he got pregnant or the child when it was born. He's been to rehab eight times that I know of, and each time he goes right back to the same situation, unable to affect the kind of change in his life that would facilitate a recovery.
Last story and then I'll close:
This one is about a girl who was raised by good parents. They traveled a lot because her dad's job required it. This girl has always been emotional. She has a big heart and doesn't like to see other people get hurt. When she was 20 years old, she became pregnant by a man who did not act as though he loved her very much. He did not help her with the pregnancy and brought nothing of either monetary or emotional value to the relationship. She moved away and put her child up for adoption. Being the emotional person that she is, the loss of her daughter was devastating. She spent the next two years in a downward spiral much like the woman from earlier. She moved away from her parents and her support system at home and into an environment that permitted her to seek out the kind of people who made her feel like her life wasn't a waste. For short periods of time, she felt wanted and needed. At the end of about two hours, she always felt worse and plotted ways to get that feeling back. She finally hit rock bottom when she realized that she was going to get into some of the same trouble that she had before and nothing had changed. She'd have to give up another child and that thought process stopped her cold.
All but one of these stories has resolved itself. The girls healed much quicker than the boys and the drug addict is still a drug addict. The moral of these stories I guess is that emotions are powerful things. If we can somehow learn to control our emotional reactions and temper them with logic and reason, we will be able to save ourselves and those around us from immeasurable heartache. Our hearts and souls are what make us unique. Why, then, would we allow ourselves and others to lose that uniqueness to an addiction that can't make us happy? Also, not every addiction is inconquerable. Sometimes, all it takes is that one person who's brave enough to lay flat on their stomach and stretch out their hand to pull us back. Are you brave enough?
I started this post thinking I was going to talk about priorities. At the beginning of last week, I had a conversation with a coworker that kind of set a few things into perspective for me about something that's been kind of a bother. I was going to do a post about priorities because no matter what age we're at, our priorities are constantly changing. In my family alone, priorities are so varied. For example: My personal priorities right now are to get my house in order. I'm 25 and I live with my parents. I don't want to so I'm getting my life together to facilitate moving past this stage of my life; My sister has never had much of a social life. At 23, she's just now beginning to have the kind of attention and social life that I had at 19. She's learning things about life I've known for many years; Remi, one of my brothers...actually, I don't really know what his priorities are. I know that he just got a job that pays really well and he's been talking about moving out. At 21, his priorities seem to be close to mine...but then he does things sometimes that contradict that. So we'll say his priorities are unknown for now; Rayo's priorities seem to be to save money and go on a two year mission for our church. I say seem to be, because sometimes he does what Remi does and contradicts that assumption of mine; Nick, the youngest, really doesn't have a choice in his priorities yet. He's a junior in high school and is focused on graduating. His choices of late are no different than most of ours were when we were his age. His priority, following school, is his friends. His family has taken a back seat...but like I said, we've all been there at one point or another. My parents...they're just trying to keep us all together and headed down the right path.
The point with priorities is that every person has their own. This doesn't make anyone more or less right for focusing on what's important to them. You can disagree with someone's priorities if you wish, but you can't condemn them. Just because it's not your current priority or you think it's something that someone should have learned already, it doesn't mean that it wasn't your priority at one time. We are all learning. None of us has an answer that will work for everyone. There is no such answer. I take it back...if I were to give you an answer to help you understand different peoples priorities it would be two words: Patience, and tolerance. If you want to get through this life in tact, become very good friends with those words and implement them in your life.
Ok, that's the first thing I was going to talk about. I could probably elaborate on that subject quite a bit, but I don't really feel like it's necessary right now.
Another subject I'd planned on blogging about was the situation with BYU basketball player Brandon Davies. I won't spend too long on this as most of the country was consumed by it for what I thought was an unneccessary amount of time.
I was impressed with not only Davies for coming forward and telling the truth, but also with much of the media who agreed with BYU for their disciplinary actions. I don't have official numbers or anything, but in one article I read online, the author said that most colleges have similar honor codes in place...but look the other direction when it's a star athlete. Most people do not agree with the BYU honor code. It's very strict and not at all what most people think 20 somethings should be doing with their lives. Much of the world does the opposite. College is for drinking and sleeping around and exploring the world in your own way. Whether you agree with the LDS standards in place at BYU or not, you can't fault a school for standing by it's principles and holding those who break that code accountable for their actions. We are still children learning from parents in college. Just because we are on our own and providing for ourselves does not mean we don't need guidance occasionally. By enforcing it's honor code, BYU is showing the world that there is no one, star athlete or not, who should not be held accountable for what they've done. Case and point, Ben Roethlisberger. In fact, most of the NFL...and NBA....and MLB....not so sure about the NHL, but you get the point. How is it that men who are known criminals and low lives get paid to do something they love knowing full well they can get away with almost anything? Call me crazy, but that is just madness. And that's all I'm gonna say about that. Good on ya, BYU.
Now, what I want to spend most of my time on is something that has claimed much of my life, my heart, and my soul. Addiction.
I'm not necessarily talking about addiction to drugs or alcohol. I am most definitely not addicted to either one, but I have an addictive personality. Were I to venture into that world and allow myself to partake in any of that, I know that I would have a serious problem.
Addiction affects everyone, I think. There are so many things we can be addicted to and most we don't even realize. For instance, I am addicted to Mountain Dew. That's kind of an easy one. Caffeine is addicting. Drink it enough and you get addicted. Mountain Dew=addicted Kati.
I'm also addicted to movies. You should see my movie collection. I love escaping into the world created by movies. It's how I unwind...but I have a hard time going a day without one. Movies=addicted Kati.
I'm also addicted to a few people who are not good for me. A lot of people have that one person in their life that does nothing for them. He/she does nothing to contribute to our lives in a good way. He/she is the leach on everything that is important to us. They draw on our emotional, physical, mental, and sometimes financial reserves. Certain people=addicted Kati.
Now, those are only some of the ways we can be addicted to things. In any form, addiction can be devastating. There's always the obvious damage caused by drugs and alcohol. Drugs have played a major role in my life and shaping me into who I am today. Many people are not as lucky as I was to come out relatively healthy and whole. Drugs and alcohol are the most destructive forms of addiction in my opinion. They damage our souls.
I've seen people and heard stories of substance abuse and what it's done to other families and friends. Movies are for me what drugs and alcohol are to drug addicts and alcoholics...a way to escape. The pull of the chemically altered brain is so intense that eventually, a person goes from being normal and healthy and happy to someone who can't bear living their life without those chemicals. They can sometimes see what that habit is doing to their lives, but more often than not, their own psychological need and desire trumps the needs of anyone or anything else. When you're higher than a kite, or so completely wasted that you can't stand, your cares and worries no longer exist...at least until you sober up.
I'm going to let you in on a secret. There is a key to all of this. Wanna know what it is?
Emotion.
Most of the stories I've heard involve people who are responding to things that have happened to them or in their lives. It's very rare for me to hear about someone becoming an addict just because they could. Even in my semi minor addictions, the key is emotion. I react to outside influences that provoke an emotional reaction. I feel the need to unwind in front of the tv for two hours. For major things like drug and alcohol abuse, the story usually has something to do with a big event in the persons life.
Our emotions are tricky little buggers. Our hearts and our souls are what make us unique. Different people react differently to different outside influences. For some people, the road to alcohol abuse may be triggered by something that seems relatively minor to other people. Then there are triggers like job loss, divorce, bankruptcy, and physical and sexual abuse. With all of these events, some form of emotion is experienced. The difference between regular people and addicts is how we chose to deal with those types of tragedies.
I have a few examples. I'm not going to name names, but if the people these stories are about read this, they'll know I'm referring to them and hopefully will understand my purpose. I have four stories.
First, the story of a male friend of mine. He was a Air Force MP and served in Iraq. He's told me stories of his deployment, but when he told them, he was so beyond wasted, that I don't really know if I should believe most of it. In all stories, there is a small margin of truth. Anyway. He served in the AF until the summer of 2008 when he was discharged. He had a mark on his record for an investigation into an incident where he was accused of "playing around" with his loaded weapon. The charges were eventually dropped, but the mark stayed. In 2008, the AF cut back on its personnel. My friend was a cut. He was devastated by it. He'd planned on serving his whole life in the military and didn't know what he was going to do. Well, he became a drunk who's best friends were the good Captain Morgan and Jack Daniels. I took care of him. He'd call me at 11 at night, knowing I had to be at work at 8 and I'd race up to his house to take care of him. I'd usually find him already drunk and he was not a good drunk. He ended up sending a drunk text to a few people, one of whom took it to mean that he wanted to committ suicide and he was in the hospital on suicide watch for two or three days. His hospital stay did nothing for him. I eventually moved home. I got a call from him about a month later. He was panicking and needed my advice. He told me that the night before, he'd blacked out but somehow managed to go to the place he worked, steal the alcohol, and dump it over the side of a cliff. I know, not very smart. He turned himself in, but even that wasn't enough to get him to change things. He finally changed when he ended up in prison for a parole violation. He was on parole because he ran into a parked car because he was driving while drunk. Yeah. It gets better and better, huh?
On to the next story:
I know of a girl who didn't get addicted to drugs or alcohol, but for a long time was addicted to the validation that came with being degraded. I'm not meaning the good kind of validation. She dated men who treated her horribly because it's how she felt about herself. This girl, woman now, is LDS and served a two year mission in Argentina I believe. After she came home, the unthinkable happened and she was raped. Not once, but twice. That's a pretty harrowing experience for anyone to go through. At first, she didn't deal with it real well. She spiralled downward for a long time. Anytime I saw her, I was amazed that no one else could see just how much she was struggling. It's like, this woman that I love was drowning and no one understood enough about what she was going through to lay flat on their stomachs on the side of the pool and stretch out their hands to help her up. Many tried, but when you have no knowledge of what those experiences are like, your hand has no solidity. I did what I could when I could, but it wasn't enough. She didn't think she was worth very much and dated slime who validated that feeling. Honestly, I don't think she consciously did that. I believe that much of what she chose to let in her life at the time was a result of subconscious decisions. She felt worthless and wasn't ready to deal with the idea that maybe she wasn't.
Next story:
This is about another man. When he was very young, his mother and father both worked a great deal of the time. One day, his mom left him with the babysitter. The babysitter did the unthinkable and traumatized this man at a very young age. I'm sorry, that's the best way for me to water that down. This man started using drugs at the tender age of eleven. When I met him, he was 24 and a hard core crystal meth addict. He could not handle the abuse he sustained as a child. With his parents occupied with three younger siblings and jobs to go too, he turned to the only thing he thought was available to him. Weed. In the beginning, that's all it was. It helped him calm down and focus enough to live...but it soon escalated into the much harder drugs. I remember one occasion at his house. His sister was at a church meeting and he'd been awake for two weeks straight. He literally was walking around the house carrying anything he could swing because cars were creeping by his house. I knew his sister was coming home and I didn't want him scaring the people bringing her...so I leaned against the door and refused to move. He got into my face and yelled, threatening to hit me if I didn't let him out to check on things outside. His house, that he thought people were creeping by, was on a corner with a stop sign. They were slowing down because it was the law. Later that same night, he told me he was seeing shadow people and trash people. His addiction was so strong that he could not clean himself up to take care of the girl he got pregnant or the child when it was born. He's been to rehab eight times that I know of, and each time he goes right back to the same situation, unable to affect the kind of change in his life that would facilitate a recovery.
Last story and then I'll close:
This one is about a girl who was raised by good parents. They traveled a lot because her dad's job required it. This girl has always been emotional. She has a big heart and doesn't like to see other people get hurt. When she was 20 years old, she became pregnant by a man who did not act as though he loved her very much. He did not help her with the pregnancy and brought nothing of either monetary or emotional value to the relationship. She moved away and put her child up for adoption. Being the emotional person that she is, the loss of her daughter was devastating. She spent the next two years in a downward spiral much like the woman from earlier. She moved away from her parents and her support system at home and into an environment that permitted her to seek out the kind of people who made her feel like her life wasn't a waste. For short periods of time, she felt wanted and needed. At the end of about two hours, she always felt worse and plotted ways to get that feeling back. She finally hit rock bottom when she realized that she was going to get into some of the same trouble that she had before and nothing had changed. She'd have to give up another child and that thought process stopped her cold.
All but one of these stories has resolved itself. The girls healed much quicker than the boys and the drug addict is still a drug addict. The moral of these stories I guess is that emotions are powerful things. If we can somehow learn to control our emotional reactions and temper them with logic and reason, we will be able to save ourselves and those around us from immeasurable heartache. Our hearts and souls are what make us unique. Why, then, would we allow ourselves and others to lose that uniqueness to an addiction that can't make us happy? Also, not every addiction is inconquerable. Sometimes, all it takes is that one person who's brave enough to lay flat on their stomach and stretch out their hand to pull us back. Are you brave enough?
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