Waiting For That Rocket

The other night I asked a question of Twitter, and here I’ll ask it again: would you rather be completely unfeeling or so empathetic it hurts?

This came up as I sat in the dark watching the DVD of the  final performance of RENT, bawling my eyes out. If you’re not familiar with RENT (and if you aren’t, you and I seriously need to have a talk), it’s about a group of 20-somethings dealing with AIDS and living in Alphabet City, New York, on a limited income.

As I sat in my room, bawling over the pain of fictional characters, I came to a conclusion: it is freaking exhausting going through life feeling everyone else’s pain. There are days I dream of turning off my emotions. How much better if I don’t have to think about what so-and-so might be going through facing this-that-or-the-other situation. If I don’t have to think about what I can do to make someone’s life easier, better, less painful.

I do realize that if I was granted the ability to not care, it would fundamentally change who I am as a person. On the other hand, there are days I don’t think that would be a bad thing. Maybe it’s a “grass is greener” thing, but I sometimes find myself daydreaming about not caring, about being able to cut corners guilt free, about half-assing things I know other people would.

Why do I have to think about how my actions impact others? Why do I have to worry about how what I do will affect how others see me? Why do I have to be SO tense when I think about other people in my life and what they may be going through? Between these things and crying over other people’s pain, there’s so little time left for me. For my own thoughts, to work through my own issues.

Among the people I talked to today about this was my friend, Eric. Eric is an incredible human being in every sense of the word. I told him about my thoughts last night and he comforted me by saying, “I often feel that way. And it’s fine, because some day there’s going to come a time when we’re all going to have to be one. Where the world is going to have to come together and stop being so insular. And that’s when we’re going to effect the most good.” (In the interest of full disclosure, this is not a direct quote, more an approximate bastardization of the most important points I gathered from his conversation.)  This echoed an equally reassuring tweet from a friend there, @FlotsamDiaries wrote, “Most good done in the world happens because somebody hurt for something/someone.”  I guess neither of these really help in the short term of “dear god make it stop hurting,” but it is nice to think that in the long run, I can make a real difference just by doing what I do.

My thoughts are so varied on this. As I sit here typing this, I feel better about being empathetic. On the other hand, if I choose the wrong movie to watch tonight things might change rapidly. Any thoughts from the peanut gallery? Which would you choose?

As I’ve talked about many a time, depression is something that I’ve struggled with a lot. Chemically, straight up emotionally, situationally. Depression is something that I’ve never been without. This is why I feel confident calling bullshit on people who say “look around you. You live in a beautiful place, have things, have people, you have no cause to be depressed or discontent.”

Newsflash: This. Is. Not. Helpful.

Especially not if there is any sort of chemical depression. In fact, saying this can actually make depression worse. It does for me, even when I’m just saying it to myself. I have the most supportive family, a fairly decent job and a whole heck of a lot of stability in a world without much of any. I know I shouldn’t be depressed. You telling me I shouldn’t be depressed? Well. That just makes me feel guilty for being depressed which in turn pushes the depression deeper and…well…you get the point.

Dealing with societal, internal, and external pressures to perform and/or succeed are that much harder when there’s chemical depression involved. Also? Sometimes people just need to kvetch. Need to hash out that they’re scared/worried/elated. They don’t necessarily need a solution to their problem, they just need someone to be there. Just remember this next time you tell someone they have no real reason to feel down about their circumstances. As my friend Elisa once said, “Sometimes you just need someone to say ‘that sucks’.”

I feel like I should put out this disclaimer.

I was thinking about my tourist rant over the weekend and I realized: if you don’t know me, then you may not realize that I really don’t hate tourists.

I don’t hate tourists. They do a lot to support our state in general and me in particular. I work in a community that needs tourists to subsist. Even if I didn’t like tourists at all, I would be grateful to them for that.

Also, some of the offenders of my previous rant are locals/people from in-state. We Mainers are not exempt from acting stupid in an outlet town.

Finally, it is the unfortunate burden of all tourists to be judged based on the stupid actions of a few. Just like many out of staters make generalizations about Mainers based on things like the Redneck Olympics and Wife-Carrying Competitions, when we see some tourists do something dumb that brush applies to all tourists.

So. Ultimately. I’m sorry for being so judgmental towards one of the State of Maine’s greatest revenue sources. Rest assured I don’t actually mean it. (Heck. Some tourists are even nice!)

Just remember – just because I said I’m sorry doesn’t mean you’re absolved from being a jerk!

So. Turns out my last post was March 18th. Almost a full two months ago.

This was not planned. Especially given current events – internationally, nationally, locally and even in my own life.

In the interim I have been doing an obscene amount of reading – averaging around a book a week. I’ve even been able to keep up with my book purchases which many would tell you is quite the impressive feat.

I’m a smart person. I know that reading many different kinds of text is crucial to the writing process. And I have been skipping back and forth from young adult literature to non-fiction to romance to classic literature to contemporary fiction. Reading this much is only going to help me improve as a writer. An end goal I very much desire.

Here’s the caveat:

It only helps you improve as a writer if you write.

I can’t help but wonder if my lack of writing is some kind of avoidance.

My life has been kind of topsy turvy of late. Not necessarily in a bad way, just in a chaotic kind of way. I accepted a new job at a company not L.L.Bean (something I never expected to happen). And it’s going to be awesome, and I’m excited, and it’s a big step up in my career. It’s just not L.L.Bean. Yes, I’m pouting a little bit about this. But only a little. Because of this unexpected development in my professional life, I’ve found myself doing a lot of thinking.

They tell me thinking is a good thing. Most days I would agree. Maybe even today I agree.

Where do I want to go. What do I want to do. Who do I want to do it for, with.

Ultimately I guess I’ve just fallen victim to that disorder called “the Twenties”.

Everything is going to work out. Somehow it always has and always does.

Alas, being a product of my generation, I want it all to settle down now.

:)

With all the unrest going on in the Middle East today (see this post for some info – albeit not a lot) and news coming out of Bahrain that the Royal Family (and their minions) have destroyed Pearl Roundabout my heart is breaking into little pieces.

I want there to be something I can do. I want my help to be welcome. I understand why there isn’t and why it’s not.

My thoughts, yes, even my prayers, are with the protestors abroad. I can’t send money, I can’t be there to help fight, neither my presence nor my money would be welcome if it was possible. But maybe one more pair of lips to god’s ear will convince him/her to ease up. To help grant these protestors what they want and what they deserve.

Of late I’ve found myself having a crisis of conscience.

I mean, maybe that’s a bit strong for what’s been going through my mind and heart. You can be the judge if I ever get around to finishing this post.

I went to church the other night. It was Ash Wednesday, I was invited, and I had some moral support to attend with me. Plus, I happen to really like the pastor. But all that is secondary to the message that I walked away with.

Without the church bulletin in front of me I can’t remember the passages that were read, the words that were said or the songs that were sung. The overarching message stuck with me though (at least the message that I walked out with). The start of the Lenten season is tough. It’s kicked off talking of the Apocalypse, you go into it knowing that Jesus is going to be betrayed by a friend and murdered. It’s March so it’s that miserable gray, cold, muddy, BLAHest of the Blah months. What the heck is there to look forward to? How do we maintain hope and faith when there doesn’t seem to be anything worth hoping for or having faith in?

This has seemed especially true this week.

With the Middle East in a political meltdown and Japan in close to a nuclear one. Politicians making ignorant statements (but it’s okay because they’re old and have earned the right). DOMESTIC communities alleging it’s the fault of an 11-year old for being gang raped. I would be lying if I said I didn’t spend much of Friday morning crying. When your own life doesn’t seem to let up, and then the world throws these major world events in your face, it seems impossible to wear a smile.

I found myself flabbergasted by the words I was reading. Friday was a textbook example of the dark days that were talked about at the service Wednesday. When there are children being hurt, countries being physically moved, and countries imploding, where is the light at the end of the tunnel?

Unfortunately, I don’t have an answer to that question. But I suppose the point of faith is that you don’t have to have the answer. You just have to trust that the answer is going to come eventually. And maybe it’s not the answer you were looking for at the beginning, but it’s the answer that is necessary and the answer that fits. Hopefully that answer comes soon.

Even if the music is all in my head, it’s rare for there to not be music floating through my consciousness.

You may have picked up on music being a constant in my life. From songs representing the passing of friends, the passing of eras, or the dawn of new ones, it’s unlikely that a song – even a crappy one – would not evoke some emotional response.

Of late, I’ve had Amos Lee on repeat. Based on a conversation with a Twitter friend – @MoJoCaster – I decided it was time to pull the trigger. I had a couple of Lee’s albums, but I wanted to round out his discography. Two albums, one live EP and about $30 later, I have three hours worth of Amos Lee that I struggle to turn off when I have to go to work.

As I gear up to write another significant piece of fiction – I am unsure whether it will reach the level of #nanowrimo – I keep listening. I can’t stop.

I guess that’s the mark of good music. Music that makes you think, makes you feel, and makes you long to create.

Predictably, as I get older, I’ve begun to see things less in black and white and much more in shades of gray. There’s no way I, as a mere mortal – even one of above average intelligence – can ever hope to understand the intricacies of politics, especially global politics.

That being said.

I am a human being.

I know killing is wrong.

I know hurting and killing people solely because they disagree with my views is abhorrent.

I can’t guarantee that the United States has “the best” form of government. In fact, I can almost guarantee that we don’t. ((Caveat: at this point we may not have the best, but we do have one of the least bad forms)) But regardless of constitutional monarchy, democracy, or republic, what’s happening in Bahrain, Libya and an ever lengthening list of Arab states is WRONG.

Admittedly, I am looking at things from not only a Western view, but a privileged, white, non-Islamic view. The ideas of a theocracy, of a dictatorship, are as foreign to me as the countries where these forms of government are present.

The murder of civilians doesn’t seem to be an ambiguous issue. More, hindering assistance for the injured is disgusting.

My heart is breaking for the unrest, the pain, deaths and disappearances that are plaguing North Africa and the Middle East. As human beings we should be able to look to our government for leadership, for protection. With so many ills in the world, we shouldn’t have to fear the government, too.

If you are the praying type, please say one. If not, positive thoughts, letters, tweets, emails. Let Libyans, Bahrainis, people of the world know that they are not alone or forgotten.