Fear

I'm kind of afraid of marriage now. Like REALLY afraid. I'm afraid because marriage doesn't last. The truth is people fall in and out of love; it happens every day. It happens to people I know, people who I encounter on a daily basis. People I've never met. People who don't deserve it. It kind of makes you lose faith in humanity (as if that doesn't happen enough already).


Remember when we were little girls (then teens, then adults) dreaming about the day we would marry our prince charming? (who turns out is not so princely or charming but an inconsiderate, thoughtless, piss-poor excuse for a human being with no integrity whatsoever). I'm beginning to think that I've been wasting so much time fantasizing of the day that I walk down the aisle to my one, true love where we will promise to love each other forever. Dreaming of something that will fall apart 2, 5, 10 years down the road. Dreaming of something that will never exist for me. And that brings up something else that I shouldn't be worrying about: what if I never get the chance to screw it up? What if I'm "doomed" to bachelorette-hood for my whole life?


I feel like I've been quite independent my whole adult life, until I was 23 when I met and had a relationship with the man who I thought I would marry. "She was a smart girl...until she fell in love" (S&TC the Movie). That ruined me. I learned what it was like to be in an adult relationship (well, up until he ended it) which included love, friendship, intimacy, silliness, camaraderie, etc. I let myself fantasize about our future life together (after a long period of wondering when the bottom would fall out because that's what happens to people who are happy, right?) and then it ended quite abruptly without any warning. And then after a week of not eating and months and months of wondering what the hell was wrong with me, why I wasn't good enough, I began to heal. With the help from my AMAZING friends and family I finally realized that it wasn't my fault and attempted to move on.


I'm terrified of never having that again (the good part, obvi). Or having it with another person, which I still can't hardly imagine. I'm terrified of something being so good for so long and then having it fall apart without any warning; or that I would be blind to warnings. And then it happen after you marry someone? After you make such a huge commitment you yourself, your partner, your families, your friends, God, whomever. It's so scary! And then the embarassment, wondering why you weren't good enough, your life literally falling apart, and if there are children involved...geez.



I'm not saying divorce isn't warranted. Obviously, it is in some cases. But it seems like the ultimate cop out for some who choose not to take marriage seriously. Marriage is maybe not right for everyone. I'm afraid that it won't be for me, even though I want it so badly.


I'm trying not to think about it so much and focus on what I want to do with my life. Which is hard; I feel like I have to routes I'd like to take (which is a whole other post!).


What say you? Are you afraid of marriage, too? Or am I just being really cynical here?

Bibliomancy

I think my sophomore year in college I took Supernatural Folklore with Erika Brady. We learned about some very interesting things in there like iridology, the Barnum effect, various campus ghost stories, and heck, I even wrote my final paper on exorcisms. We also learned about bibliomancy. This is the notion that when you open up a book, the passage is supposed to be particularly meaningful to you. People do this in spiritual practices, for example, picking up a Bible and applying the scripture to your life.

The "official" definition (from bibliomancy.org) states that "Bibliomancy is a practice whereby a person seeking spiritual insight selects a random passage from a book (often a sacred text). The Ancient Greeks often used Homer's Iliad, letting the text fall open to select a page. The I Ching has been used for thousands of years in a similar manner, and Virgil's Aeneid was a popular choice in the mediaevil period." You can even practice it on the site.

I have a book by the Dalai Lama called "The Art of Happiness." I actually haven't read it, so I don't know what it's all about. But I'm guessing finding happiness. So, I meaninglessly opened it tonight to page 83, which says:

 "Today, so many of us are oppressed by a feeling of something missing in our lives, intensely suffering from a lack of intimacy. This is particularly true when we go through the inevitable periods in our life when we're not involved in a romantic relationship or when the passion wanes from a relationship. There's a widespread notion in our culture that deep intimacy is best achieved within the context of a passionate romantic relationship--that Special Someone who we set apart from all others. This can be a profoundly limiting viewpoint, cutting us off from other potential sources of intimacy, and the cause of much misery and unhappiness when that Special Someone isn't there. But we have within our power the means to avoid this; we need only courageously expand our concept of intimacy to include all the other forms that surround us on a daily basis. By broadening our definition of intimacy, we open ourselves to discovering many new and equally satisfying ways of connection with others."

In that Baptist faith, we have a saying that goes something like "The preacher really stepped on my toes today!", meaning we were ridden with guilt or identified with the message. I think the Dalai Lama really stepped on my toes with this one. He actually danced all over my feet with 5-inch stilettos.

It's really hard being single, and goodness knows, I'm trying my best to embrace it. For example, due to NYE I have implemented a rule that states "Rebecca will not give out her REAL phone number to guys she meets in bars" and whoever is with me is accountable to make sure I do not. I had way too much fun that night, which is exactly what I needed after five months of self-loathing and feeling sorry for myself.


But, it's nice to be humbled with a passage like this. Ideally, I want what everyone else has--a meaningful relationship with my Special Someone. While it would be nice to find a Special Someone, the best thing for me to do right now is "broaden my definition of intimacy" and create such relationships with those already in my life. I have it. It is there. I don't need to go looking for it.


Well played, enlightenment. You found me and I wasn't even looking.

You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive

I just got back from Walmart (the real Walmart, not the shady one), which is always a treat. I was in line behind a Latino family with four children under the age of, um, four maybe? The dad looked very stressed as if the entire weight of the world was on his tiny shoulders and the mom was looking like this was what she was bred for. After watching them for awhile, I got to thinking about how lucky I am to be standing in the Bowling Green Walmart.  Earlier, I had seen several young Muslim ladies wearing their scarves with pride whilst shopping for those rollback deals. One was so strikingly beautiful that I almost went over and told her so (but I didn't want her to think I was a werido). Bowling Green is home to a rather large international population because we have a refugee center. I absolutely love it. And so I began thinking about where they all came from and their life experiences. Which brings me to today's post and wanting to share with you some of mine.

I think I had a very unusual upbringing, especially for someone who grew up in one of the poorest areas of the United States. I did not, in fact, grow up in Harlan as the title of this post implies. If you've ever heard the song, you'll know it basically describes how many people grow up in eastern Kentucky hoping to leave, but many do not. Or they do and go back. Which is fine, but I've realized that since most of my friends have moved away, I don't really have anything to do there after visiting with family.

I grew up in Hazard, KY which is a small town in Appalachia. Both of my parents graduated high school, and both of them attended university. As did both sets of my grandparents, and both of my grandfathers were doctors. My brother and I did not have a choice in going to college--it was expected. I remember saying something to my mom about taking a year off between high school and college and she was like "Yeah, right."

About a month after I turned three my dad died, so from then on I grew up in a single-parent household. My mom worked to support her family and we never had want for anything. We even had another family--the Watsons/Lanes. Aunt Donna and Uncle Red helped raise us, so we were part of their families, too. They never had any biological children, but helped raise us as well as nieces, nephews, and neighbors. So, my brother and I always had many "cousins" to play with and even more grandmas! (you can never have too many). We were very lucky, blessed actually. It's a nice feeling to receive unconditional love from people who aren't blood-related to you.


Many of my childhood memories revolve around Vacation Bible School, or VBS. Anyone in the Bible Belt knows what VBS is; VBS is summer. From the time I was a baby, I was taken to church each time the doors were open. Uncle Red was a deacon, so he was always there, and Aunt Donna taught Sunday school and sang in the choir as long as she was able. I remember crawling under the pews, watching the ladybugs fly around the lights, and receiving a dollar every Sunday from Tom, a very old man who sat in front of us. I remember those old fans from the funeral home with Jesus pictures on them.

I am, as far as I know, the only Baptist in my family. My mom's family is mostly Presbyterian. I remember once my Grandpa talking about how he didn't like "Baptist red" (many Baptist churches have red pews or carpeting, signifying the blood Jesus shed for all the sinners). But I do remember a joke he made once about how Presbyterians are just Baptists who went to town.


My grandpa (mom's dad) was one of my most favorite people. He was an optometrist and well-known in the community as being a wonderful person. I had the privilege of interviewing him for one of my college classes just before he died. He would snatch the glasses right off of your face and make sure they weren't crooked. He always asked us how are contacts were doing and warning us not to clean our glasses with paper towels and to hold them with both hands by the stems.


My grandpa traveled to India several times beginning in the 70s. He and my grandma helped support a young man they met through friends, and so I grew up eating yummy Indian dishes my grandma learned to make from the wives. I learned to make one dish and pakoras, which are fried veggies. My grandpa had books and books and books on India and brought back trinkets and gold bracelets. I remember hearing a story about how he and his sister would "smuggle" gold bracelets back into the US.


I think this is where I get the traveling bug from. I always wanted to go to India with him, but by the time I was old enough, he did not feel much like going. I hope to go to India one day, but in the meantime I'll be settling for Uganda. I'm going to Kampala in July to spend a week working in orphanages. Yeah, really. I'm extremely excited about it and will be blogging about it from time to time.


It's nice to go home and be surrounded by those who love me the most. I know I can always go home and be with my family. There was a time when I didn't want to leave, but now I'm glad I did. I like Bowling Green and it's been quite good to me. Who knows where I'll be in 2, 5, or 10 years? For now, I'm content to stay here and see what life experiences are in store!

Chasing Pavements

That was going to be the title of my blog, but I don't want anyone to think that my life revolves around "chasing pavements" (or building castles in the sky, whichever metaphor you prefer for unattainable goal-searching). Sometimes, it does. But it shouldn't. I don't want to wish or dream my life away; I have been guilty of this several times. Especially now that I'm 25. And post-war, starting at square one all over again when it took me 23 years to get there in the first freaking place. I want to get married and start a family and all that other good stuff we girls are expected to do by the time we're 30 (plus, if I'm going to have at least four kids I need to get all on that asap). And before anyone starts ranting about how 25 is not that old, spare me. It is when all of your friends are getting married and having babies in their 20s. Just leave me alone about it because I won't likely change my mind until I'm 50 and like "What the hell was I thinking?" But isn't that how it always happens?

But this blog is not going to be all about finding/losing/hoping for love. That may be part of it, but mostly it's going to be a channel for which I will attempt to reach one of my goals for the year: writing. Way back in January, I wrote down a list of Resolutions for 2011, which included exercising (fail), focusing more on my spirituality (fail), considering the military when I get my clinical license (please don't tell my mom because she's already received a call from the Army this year telling her I have been talking to a recruiter--lies), being a better friend (meh), and writing (fail). There were some others, but I can't find my list at the moment and my memory is piss poor now that I've been working full-time in mental health. Ha. Irony?

So, this will be the forum for which I keep up with myself and friends and family who are interested or at the very least, nosy. I don't know what it will NOT be, so stick around to find out.

I dedicate this first post to my biffie Nicole, who lives in Spokane with her AF hubby, my goddog Socks and my adorable nephew Asher (who is way cuter than your nephew).