From A Distance

I fear that as I've aged, I have displayed symptoms of emotional/psychological Benjamin Button syndrome.

I feel like it's normal for people to feel passion in their youth, and have vigor and love and all ranges of emotions.  Then, as people gain those life experiences and tuck time and wisdom under their belts, they become more internal and, for lack of a better word, calm.  Bitterness, callous, and actively using phrases like "kids these days" come into play mid-to late life.  Right?

I feel that in many facets of my life, I am on an accelerated path to callous.

I know that it is going to seem like I am just flying off the handle in this blog, and am just being inordinately emotional for a few minutes, but the truth is that I have been giving this very focused thought over the past few weeks. 

Patience

I don't remember having patience issues when I was younger, at least not in the way that I do now.  In some ways I am still the most patient person, (often to a fault) in giving people many "second chances," and trying to understand misunderstood people.

Sometimes, I get so impatient and busy in my work day, that I feel flustered at the simple things that slow me down and suck time at work, and I get mad things that take time such as stirring my tea.   That's the most ridiculous thing, isn't it?   Stirring my tea.  It takes about 15 seconds of focus.  

But I find myself saying out loud, "Stir your tea, Veronica."

I have to say this to myself so often, that I have found myself saying it all day long for any sort of task.  

• When the elevator is stopping at EVERY FLOOR: "Stir your tea, Veronica."  
• When someone is making small talk (and we all know how much I love small talk) : "Stir your tea, Veronica."
• When I get frustrated at having to take time to clean the cat box, mow the grass, eat food: "Stir your tea, Veronica."

It's a reminder to slow down and accept the moment as a necessary moment of life. A reminder that there are those who were not granted the gift of waking up this morning, and also that there are generations of people, my father & grandfather included, who fought in wars and made sacrifices so that I have the privilege of stirring my fancy tea whilst sitting at my air conditioned desk in a beautiful city and having the freedom to do whatever I choose to do in that moment: I could choose to chuck my Celine Dion mug of tea out into the middle of Pratt Street, or I could run up around the inner harbor in my underwear, or I could stand on my head at my desk, or I could sit there and stir my tea.  There is so much freedom, and I have to choose wisely.  So I need to choose to savor every minute, including those spent on stirring tea.

Race

This next part is not about race, but people are going to think that it is.  It's not about race.  It's about heartbreak.

I find myself losing my patience with the national news.  I can't tell if I am becoming over calloused, or if I am actually just masking a whole sea of hurt which I don't know how to deal with.  

I've been trying to not talk about this for months.  I've already calculated that you will probably not want to be my friend anymore after this post.

But, after this Charleston shooting event, I've just had enough of pretending that it all means nothing to me.  

I get so angry because I am not allowed to talk about anything openly; I have to be over careful and censor my natural reactions because I am a young Aryan female who is an independent homeowner who lives in the suburbs with a small and clean life and supports herself.  I have clawed my way through life and fought and fought to be successful, and never gave up, and refused to accept homelessness and unemployment and apathy. But that does not matter.  I am Aryan and that is what people know about me at first glance. 

I am a third generation American of Lithuanian descent.  This renders me voiceless on events which have a possible facet of racism, unless what is voiced is within the socially acceptable constraints of what the biggest critic would want to hear.  Anything heard from me will be observed with race-filtered glasses. 

I moved around a lot as a kid, (something like 20 times by the time I was 19) and whether that has served more harm than good is yet to be seen, but it did ensure that I was a cultural enigma of sorts.  I never got used to one type of person, or one class, or one race, or one religion. I never had one best friend, and to this day, I still don't.  I am a big cauldron of lots of histories and people and groups and beliefs.  I have lots of different kinds of friends, and they each know something a little different about me and my  history, but put them all in the same room, and you have a pretty interesting, faceted gem.  (Also, I do not want to be in the room when that happens.  It would be too much for me to handle.)  Separate, no one knows the entire me, but they all together equal one me.  This is probably not uncommon; I am sure that many of you feel the same way about yourselves.

There are a few characteristics about me which are unwavering and true, and one of these traits is my justness.  I'm always weighing facts, whether good or bad, and trying to see different viewpoints - one of my strongest strengths is objectivity.  I won't jump right into assuming a know the story until I know the whole story - You don't know what you don't know.

Freddie Gray

I don't know what happened to Freddie Gray.  I know what you know - and that is nothing.  We are not in the courtroom being presented all evidence from all sides of the case.  We are people tuned in and dependant on a media industry whose main currency is popularity.  I have no opinion on the matter, because I don't know the facts.  Maybe it was about race.  Maybe he was a serial criminal known for selling drugs in that particular ally and was trying to outrun the cops.  Maybe he was on every drug known to man and had no conscious control over his body.  Maybe it was none of those things.  

We actually know nothing, and I don't assume to.  What I do know is that Channel 2 and Channel 4 and Channel 9 and Channel 11 and abc2news.com and Facebook and Twitter are in a popularity contest and will feed you whatever will make you pay attention to them.  Hopefully, this will then evoke a strong enough emotion from you that you will then give them more things to report about.  Supply and demand and supply and demand and supply.

Clearly, there is a bigger issue which was highlighted because of the rioting.  I'm not really supposed to say things that I want to say, like, "Okay, so folks in north Baltimore are feeling an injustice.  What is their proposed solution?" even though I am actually interested in helping; even though I would actually be such a strong advocate for change, if there was a clear cause.  And yes, there are a few folks who have focused and targeted action plans - and good on them.  But is this the "average rioter"?  Nope.  

Channel-whatever-I-was-watching was interviewing people they walked by on the streets during the riots, saying, "What is the change that you want?" And person after person had no real answer.  One person just said, "We are rioting for Freddie Gray.  We want those police officers to spend life in jail."  The newscaster would press on, "Okay... but you don't even know the facts of the case yet."   The person responded, "Doesn't matter; enough is enough - we're sick of it all." The newscaster said, "Okay, but what is the change that you want?"  And the person said, "We want those police officers to be put in jail."

This is not a solution.  

The easiest thing in the world is to sit around and complain about the world.  This does not bring change.  This just brings hate and bitterness.  Thinking of actual feasible solutions is what it takes.  Not just, "Well, what they need to do is... :: insert generality here ::." 

Listen, there is no "they."  There is YOU.  If YOU want change, then you need to listen to Michael Jackson and start with the man in the mirror.  If most of the rioters had actual focused plans of actions, I would regard their efforts with the same profound respect of the great Martin Luther King, Jr. (who, btw, would have been horrified by the Baltimore riots.)  Alas, all I actually heard and saw was noise and destruction.  Noise.  Noise.

However, if I ever even considered showing my blond-hair-blue-eyed self amongst the demonstrations (or even peaceful protests) and mentioned any of the above, or asked what their solution was, I would have been completely disregarded because of my race, and no doubt anything above would have been tuned out.  When, at the very heart of me, I actually, honest and truly, am on the side of justice and fairness.  The fact that it doesn't matter what I actually think or say is like putting wet blankets on flames. Even if I had a fiery passion, it is quashed.  To be fair to myself, I don't even entertain the idea of discovering how I actually might feel.  I know that it doesn't matter what I say or do, because of my skin color.  And that, my friends, is the very essence of racism.

This is part of the reason I am on an accelerated path to callous.

Charleston

When your city burning, it's hard to feel shock for someone else who has experienced a flame.

There have been 139 homicides in Baltimore so far in 2015. The month following the riots gave Baltimore the deadliest month it has had in the past 40 years.  Why?  

I don't know; I don't have all of the facts... but what I can speculate is that I don't blame police for not wanting to do a darn thing.  Can you imagine every single minute of your job being video recorded, criticism with serious repercussions being a part of every minute of your duties?  I don't know what I don't know, but what I do know is that my car was broken into and the window was smashed out, and I waited for 3 hours for the police, and no one ever showed up, and I was not even that upset.  I get it.  Maybe I shouldn't (refer to earlier mention of being the most patient person, (often to a fault) in giving people many "second chances," and trying to understand misunderstood people.)  Maybe I should be mad that the police are not doing enough, but I'm not.  I get the apathy.

To prevent feeling feelings, I just tune it out. Is that a healthy solution?  Nope. 

Also, the system does not work.  I hear the news every morning, the numbers rolling in.  I tell myself to stir my tea and to not get upset about it.  

Then the Charleston church shootings happened.  It is a tragedy.  A disgusting, despicable tragedy.  For such an infiltration of hate and vile cruelty to take place in a place of holiness, sanctity, worship, and community sickens every good person.  It is hell on earth.  Lives were stolen, with those families left behind being changed forever.  People's mothers, sisters, cousins, brothers, children were stolen, for absolutely no reason at all.

I try to remain calm and remind myself to stir my tea over this, but my mind can't stop going to numbers.  Nine.  Nine people.  Literally 15 times as many people have had the same fate in MY city in the past six months.  Where is the outrage?  Where is the heartbreak?  

Even in my corporate environment, after the shootings at Charleston, moments of silence and respect were being taken in large meetings.  I had to sit there and remind myself to stir my tea when this happened, because what I really wanted to do was stand  up and shout about the one hundred and thirty nine souls who were taken from within our own 10 mile radius.

What I really wanted to do was stand on my chair and take a moment of mourning for 16 year old Arnesha Bowers, who on June 6th was viciously raped and murdered when she walked into her home (which she shared with her grandmother) to find that three men were robbing the place. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, just going home after school or whatever, and was tortured before the sweet relief of death (by strangulation). 

According to WJZ:

New court documents show Bowers was strangled and her genitals were burned in an apparent effort to destroy evidence that she had also been sexually assaulted. Rivers later admitted to police he called Bowers multiple times before she died and even used her cell phone after the murder to send a text to her friend to throw off police.

Then, after they murdered her, they set the house on fire to try to destroy evidence.  They arrested one 14-year old Tree Top Piru Bloods gang member in connection with this crime.  

This is ONE of the stories of the one-hundred-and-thirty-nine similar tales of only the year 2015.

Did you even know about Arnesha Bowers?  No?  Oh. Okay.

So it's those moments of silence in meetings where I have to tell myself to stir my tea and just appreciate the moment, and pay respect to the people of Charleston, as requested.

PRIDE

Recently, my company started a PRIDE community.  I could not be happier about this - I am honored and proud of my company for supporting their LGBT and Ally employees.  I have many friends who are gay, and I will fiercely support any of their needs socially, professionally or otherwise.  I think one of the reasons I love being part of PRIDE so much is because it is one place where I have a voice.  I can make an impact.  The LGBT community is colorblind - honestly I have never seen or heard of any racism within the community; it simply is not on the radar.  The community is about loving your neighbor and fairness and equality.  I love that.  

So that's the main reason for my heart of steel.

I have become a pro at feeling nothing.  Hopefully it stays well contained, because sizzling hot coals under these wet towels I toss have the capacity to become a major inferno.  

I should feel passion.  I know it's there - I should be in the numbers with these people: 

Alas. I do not feel it.  I feel like I skipped this phase of my life.

I try to make sense of it all.  Actually, I don't.  I just dull the nerves and try to feel nothing about it.  But sometimes, very rarely, I will see in a person that they, too, know exactly what I am feeling - they have felt it before.  All of this is not something that people talk about with each other.

So, I summon the power of Bette, who I know is one of these people who knows what I am about.  I know that she, and people like her, have seen things that you and I will never know about unless we travel the world on a daily basis like she does.  So I want, I want to believe her when she puts out songs about seeing the world as one, From A Distance.  She has seen darkness, and she wants to believe in One.  These are people I look up to.

From a distance we are instruments

Marching in a common band

Playing songs of hope, playing songs of peace

They're the songs of every man

If Bette is trying to believe it, then so will I.

I will just continue to remind myself to stir my tea and watch things From A Distance.

Not-So-Great American Tragedy

You wouldn't know from first glance, but I'm actually a really healthy person.  Kake has said on several occasions that it is one of the Great American Tragedies that I eat the way I do and am active as much as I am and am still not a size 6.

Eating 

First of all, when you are above a size 16, anything you eat is judged by those around you.  

I stopped caring about this years ago.  The truth is that I genuinely crave foods which are clean and from the earth.  This is my lunch from one day at work, which inspired me to be on this topic today:

It's great to have some people in your life who share your love for healthy things, whether it is running or other kinds of exercise, or eating clean foods.  I am fortunate to have a few people who care about what they eat, including my colleague Sara, and we share food all of the time.  

Me, every time Sara is working at the Baltimore office.  Or anytime I spot someone with brought-from-home lunch.  

It makes life a little easier for me to having someone who shares my passion for hummus or cheese.  I'll buy a whole family sized thing of hummus at Costco and not give one care about what others think.  Then I get to share with Sara and anyone else around me.

I just stopped by Target on my way home from work today to purchase some caulk and other things, and I wish I had the security footage of when I made eye contact with some hummus across the room. 

Me and hummus

I am pretty sure I was in a full gallop, then looked like I ran into an invisible wall because I had to self-talk and say, "Veronica! Control yourself!!" I was not there for hummus, but it's on my to-do list now.

Those who actually hang around me or have lived with me know that my eating preferences/intentions are clean.  When Melissa lived here, a few weeks after she first moved in, one night we were sitting to dinner, and she looked up at me, and with the most pathetic face, said, "Can we please stop eating vegetables?" I could not stop laughing. 

Melissa came to visit last week.  She came into the house, went to the kitchen, put her hand on the fridge door, and accurately predicted all that was in there - "Green, green, seeds, plants, what is that... hummus?  Why do you need a giant thing of hummus??  Gross!"

Typical Taco Tuesday with Melissa

Of course, Melissa and others also know that I'm normal and won't say no to other foods as well, but the point is that I know that I eat pretty balanced, so I'm not worried about the sideways glances. 

To this day, I still will send Melissa random text messages that say, "Why is there never any junk food in this house!!"  I get so frustrated at myself.  Just another thing I miss about having Melissa living there.  She sends me a bag of Doritos or gummies here and there, just to make up for it, I think.

I will say that my main problem is eating (in general) consistently.  I might eat one meal a day.  I've never been great at remembering to eat, and when I am traveling with someone, that is always something I have to keep in mind... that other people eat all day long.  

This is something which Kate has become used to reminding me about when we travel, and I am all-to-used to getting a fair reaction from her when I throw her a side-eyeing Chloe for when her food choices seem questionable to me, or when I find myself saying,"OMG you have to eat AGAIN?? We just ate like 6 hours ago!!" 

Actual video of Kake eating carbs

Physical

Running a house by myself is in and of itself an incredible amount of work, and I was just telling my friend the other day (she's into lifting) that I bet I could giver her gym-rat self a run for her money, seeing as how I have to carry a 250+ lb lawn mower up and down my porch stairs once or twice per week.

Add to that 1-2 days a week of just hiking all day through the woods whilst archerying, and the occasional additional hike or bike ride, and I'm actually pretty physical.  

One of my colleagues always says to me, "Do you ever just go home and watch Netflix and do nothing?"  This question comes after him asking me daily what I did after work the day before, and me responding with the inevitable, "Oh, I painted my ceilings and scrubbed the house."  Or, "I mowed the lawn and weed-whacked and then scrubbed the house."  Or, "I went to Lowes and bought half dozen bags of mulch... whist wearing business attire and heels..."

I am one of those people (TVW) who can't just do nothing on a weekend - not only would I be filled with guilt, but my body would actually go stir crazy. 

Friends (YOU)

I do want to give a shout-out to my friends who are healthy, and conscious that we are only given one body in which to vessel our souls.

I've watched a few of my friends make some very healthy life changes over the past few years, whether physically, emotionally, or circumstantially, and I want to just say that I get so proud of people for owning their lives.

I have a friend who has produced a whole little happy family in the past few years, and even with very little, she has made a very healthy lifestyle.  I have known her since we were in high school, and I have seen her go through some absolutely awful times, physically, emotionally, and environmentally.  I look at her now, and I am honestly, from the bottom of my heart of steel, filled with such joy and happiness and pride for her.  

I look at her and I see strength.  I see her taking care of her body by eating well and doing her exercise classes, and it's not about fitting into a bathing suit for a few months or anything - it's because she feels good and strong when she puts in the effort.  I see her making good choices for her and her kids.  In fact, I feel comfortable enough to just share what she said to me in an e-mail after I mentioned this to her:

"I do feel so much healthier and stronger these days. I love going to the gym when I can and being active with the kids. And it sounds super cheesy but I finally truly love and appreciate my body, and just want to be reasonably kind to it. Swore to myself that I wouldn’t expose my girls to the kind of self-loathing and weight obsession I witnessed from the women in my family growing up. "

So own your body. Do what you need to do to take care of yourself and feel healthy and strong.  Our bodies are amazing machines, and no one is going to take care of your body except you.  Listen to your body... listen to doctors, and peers, and people who know what they are talking about... but also listen to your own self living in there.    

Feel like a rock star.