Life Hands You Lemons

Never apologize for burning too brightly or collapsing into yourself every night. That is how galaxies are made.-Tyler Kent White

I promised myself that one thing would happen when I went to law school: that I would become comfortable with the idea of being uncomfortable. Here’s my reflection so far.

One of the first things a person learns after a bout of depression, or a suicide recovery is that waking up each day often requires a constant choice. I’m not talking about “I will live today”. I’m talking about “I will get out of this bed and keep fighting, even though I’m exhausted and I really would rather just go back to sleep.” And it’s hard. At first, it’s like listening to the most grating sound on repeat inside your head. “I will get out of this bed…I will get out of this bed…I will get out of this bed…” And you have to keep updating it as the day goes on. Getting out of bed soon becomes “I will make myself look professional and keep fighting…” which in turn becomes “I will keep fighting.”

Then one day, you don’t have to scream those words at yourself so loudly. It becomes less of a command and more of a mantra. “I will keep fighting.”

So too it is, as I found out, with my current life choices. I chose to go to law school, and suddenly I found myself in a world I didn’t seem fit for. I feel like an outsider, like everything is designed to keep me out. And each day I woke up with my mind screaming at me “I will get out of this bed and keep fighting, even though this is really hard, I’m exhausted and I really need more sleep.” Each day felt a little bit more like a battle and a little less like an academic exercise. Until it didn’t.

I woke up this morning and sat in silence for a moment. I had spent the past two weeks drowning out the fear that I felt bubble up from the moment I woke up. And I stopped and listened to it. Why was I afraid? Why was I struggling?

The quote at the top of today’s blog comes from a poem (which I heard about from one of my favorite celebrities). Fear and shame are some pretty powerful things when it comes to the human condition. They will trick you out of opportunities to change the world by simply making the world uninviting to you.

But here’s the thing.

The world isn’t unwelcoming to you. The world is everything you are willing to be uncomfortable enough to do. And trust me, it will be uncomfortable. But it will always be worth it.

 

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Reminders from the Universe

I think it’s really easy to get caught up in life, in the way it makes you feel or overwhelms you. And I’ll be honest, I have those pestering thoughts about where I’m taking my life. I worry that I burn so brightly that I’ll burn out and be of no help to anybody. And I thought about what I might do if I walked away from everything-from justice, from law, from my home and just started over some way. I think that you think about that a lot when you have depression or anxiety or whatever. Just starting over. Taking the knowledge you had and using it to make better choices. But to that effect, I offer a quote:

“But then I wondered how I’d feel… Would I feel relieved or would I feel sad? And then I realized how many stupid times a day I use the word “I”. And Probably all I ever do is think about myself. And how lame is that when there’s like seven billion other people out there on the planet…But then I thought, if I cared about the other seven billion out there, instead of just me, that’s probably a much better use of my time.” -Mia Thermopolis, The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

And in the grogg of all that, a news story came across my FB feed. Now, before you roll your eyes, let me just say that I don’t take things at face (lol pun!) value-I investigate. So when I saw the article, I left Facebook and began my search. It was like getting punched in the face. 

If you search “16 year old received no jail time”, there comes a list of stories that aren’t for the faint hearted. They range from racial bias to toddlers to every manner of monster available. And that was when I stopped thinking about myself for a minute. I detached as much as I could and just thought. No amount of me feeling sorry for myself or scared of what the future holds makes any difference. I know that what I want is difficult and scary and it means that I need to be able to hold my own at all times-even in the worst of my bad days. Why?

Because if I don’t keep burning brightly, how will these problems be illuminated? If I don’t keep speaking up, who will speak for the children who can’t, for the people who are scared? They deserve their justice, their safety-just as much as I do. And if no one will help them, I will.

I force myself to read each news story that comes across my feeds. I read them and I burn a little brighter, a little stronger. I don’t know if that’s good or bad-but as far as I can tell, it’s how it has to be. Why? Because this cannot be. There are judges across the country who aren’t holding up the law. They’re letting criminals of the worst kind fall between the cracks. I can’t sit by, in my fear and worry while the last stronghold of justice fails.

And that’s why no matter how scared I am, no matter how frustrated and tired I will become, I have to keep fighting. If not for me, for the people who need me and for the future. So stay tuned for a blog in the future where I tell you which law school I will be attending.

Religious Tolerance

You sneeze: what do people say to you?

It’s the holiday season: what do people say to you?

It’s your birthday: what do people say to you?

Something terrible has happened to you: what do people say to you?

A loved one has passed on: what do people say to you?

Something great might happen: what do people say to you?

All of these have one really strikingly gorgeous thing in common: well-wishing. Now, the specifics may not be the same, but the idea behind it very much is. And yet, we have some issues accepting it, don’t we?


If someone came up to you and blessed you because you sneezed (and no, it doesn’t matter if it’s in German), you’d say thank you. It wouldn’t matter if you believed that God was going to bless you, or if you were atheist-you’d just say thank you. Or at least you should, becuase that’s just good manners.

If you were going into the hospital, you’d want to come out of it again, right? And you’d want comfort if a loved one or friend died, right?

You’d want to celebrate when good things happen, take solace in community when bad things occur. That’s just human nature-right?

My point here is that if I were Muslim or Christian or Jewish or Atheist or Pagan or Buddhist or what-have-you, the concept of well-wishing is universal. I did a post during Ramadan (last year?!) about how much I learned about the graciousness of the Muslim Americans that I met. I have a Jewish friend who is the happiest, most accepting person I may ever know. I have a Catholic friend with a heart of gold, who accepts me for my differences and loves me just the same. I have very Christian friends who are a delight to be around-and allow me to explore who I am while they do the same, and even some who give me their time and share their food with me (I’m always down with food and coffee dates-you know, when my schedule permits).  I have atheist and agnostic friends who respect my choice to believe in something bigger than myself. I have pagan friends who delight in my successes, lift me up in my sorrows and support me throughout. And I know that’s just my story. I get that.

But the larger picture is what I’m getting at. 

Tolerance is something that doesn’t seem to be big around my country these days. I see a collective out and about, trying to make sure everyone knows they are valid and matter and valued-and I love that. I try to do so as well, because that’s what we all need. In the end, it doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t matter, if someone is wishing you well-becuase it means they care enough to say something nice to you.

Look, I don’t expect everyone to know that next week is Ostara, the celebration of the Spring Equinox, a time of great fertility and happiness. Saint Patrick’s Day is a religious day, but is celebrated by more people than just the ones who honor him as a saint. Lent is happening right now, in preparation for Easter. Purim and Holi are coming up soon as well. Ramadan starts in a couple months. And you thought December was the only packed holiday month!

My point is simple, really, and I feel like it’s almost absurd to have to say it. When someone tells you:

Happy Easter, Happy Ostara, Happy St. Patrick’s Day, Happy Friday, Blessed Purim, Blessed Lent, Blessed Holi, and more, they are not saying “you have to subscribe to my religion”. They are wishing you well. 

And in this day and age, isn’t that something we all need?

The Revolution…..ary.

 

I had a post made up for yesterday, talking about the end of an era, the decline of the democracy and I didn’t post it. Why? Because if I let myself, I’m a very negative person. So, I’ve decided to focus on the positives-even today. Especially today.

Today ends some things, sure. That is a fact that is not removed just because I do not like it (take note, politicians!). Today is the beginning of something.

The revolution.

Now, just in case you were curious, here is the Google definition of the word.

“A revolution (from the Latin revolutio, “a turn around”) is a fundamental change in political power or organizational structures that takes place in a relatively short period of time when the population rises up in revolt against the current authorities.”

This is as good of a definition as any, I think. I’m not talking about the demagogue (a political leader who seeks support by appealing to popular desires and prejudices rather than by using rational argument.-Google) but “We the people”.

Instead of being doom and gloom, I’m plotting a course for action.

You see, everything I love about the world is on the verge of being overcome by everything that is bad. And not just the things that impact me, but the things that impact others. One of the lessons I heard as a child was “The world is too big to revolve around such a small person”. And that is true. But one raindrop raises the sea.

So for now, all I wanted to offer was encouragement.

I see you. You are valuable. You have worth. You are valid. You are irreplaceable. You have a purpose. You are necessary. You are not a mistake.

Love will overcome.

We will overcome.

I stand for the people. Liberty and justice for ALL.

~M

No.

Three days. It feels like a countdown to doom. Just a couple short moments until the world as we know it pauses. I know that good things come from dire places, but doesn’t it feel a little *too* dire?

I’m trying. I’m trying to be the optimist here, to be the person whose logic and reasoning skills are intact. I’m trying to not let the fear and the crushing weight of all that is happening allow me to come undone. Really.

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.

There are a great many things that I feel. There are facets of my life that both thrill and terrify me (in the exhilarating, stressful way). And then there is just three days from now-when all the lowest things about human society become what everyone sees of my country.

I know I have a few international readers-and I do hope you see this for what it is and not an insult to your reasoning skills-but I have a message. A request, really.

Please do not look at January 21 and think that all Americans are like that. Please do not think we all hate differences, are afraid of people who aren’t the same as us. The loud minority is drowning us out, but we are here and we are fighting. There are those of us who care for the water and the planet we live on, who weep at the injustices at Standing Rock. There are those of us who value the lives of other human beings, both those who look like us and those who don’t. There are those of us who love openly, and rejoice when others can do the same-regardless of whether or not it fits our idea of love. There are those of us who are working to make the world better-not drag it back into hatred, ignorance, bigotry and fear mongering.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned. I am.

But do you know what I know?

I know that in dire times, good comes. When human kind needs it most, who should appear but Mother Theresa, Martin Luther King Jr., Mahatma Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, Malala Yousafzai, Susan B. Anthony, Harriet Tubman, Shirin Ebadi. The list goes on.

I can’t wait to see who our next humanitarian leader is. Maybe I’ll get to meet them. Maybe, dare I dream it-I might be them.

Sleep peacefully, readers. Be safe, be loved.

You have value. You are valid. You are irreplaceable.

We’ll make it. Together.

Waiting on Superman

I really adore superhero(ine) movies. I enjoy the comics, I enjoy the messaging, I enjoy it as a fan who simply wants to be transported to a different place for a little while. I love that the hero(ine)s have dark pasts, tragic events and things that make them relatable. I also happen to enjoy Disney Villains (especially Maleficent and Ursula) and I do quite like Star Wars and Star Trek with equal measure. I belong to as many fandoms as I can (although none so much as Supernatural, Sherlock, iZombie, Charmed and Buffy the Vampire Slayer). And do you know what? All of this has one simple thing in common.

Almost none of the protagonists believed they were “the chosen one”.

So, before we get into this, no-I’m not in the middle of a serious delusion. Seriously. Let me tell you the story.

When I was asked the first time what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said mortician. I was told that was improper for a lady (by the teacher). When asked again, I said doctor. No one ever asked past that-until I asked myself. And when doctor just didn’t fit, I toyed around with a LOT of other ideas. Nurse. Wedding Planner. Phlebotomist. Social Worker. And then I found anthropology. And I LOVED it! But I had no idea what I wanted to do with it. I was stuck in the “swamp” for a while-where you just want to do all of the types of anthropology. Then I leaned cultural. I wanted to study religions and the occult and spirituality. But could I get a job in that? So I shifted to religious intolerance and hate crimes and religious terrorism. Surely that would be a useful career! But I wasn’t quite set on it. It just didn’t “fit”. And so I kept looking for the thing. It was quite like finding an academic soul mate. And then I fell upon law and rape prosecution.

I’ve applied to law schools. I’m trying to make my life. And it’s hard and scary-and I haven’t even heard from my schools yet. But you know what I keep thinking?

Am I even cut out for this?

I read cases pretty regularly. I think the cookies in my browser history just knows I’m going to want to follow cases and it finds them for me. And I read them with integrity. I read them, I research them and then I cry. I ugly cry, scream into my pillow and mourn the loss of humanity. It breaks me so much. I fall asleep with puffy eyes and wake up exhausted. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve talked it over with my husband. And now, I shall trust you all with my secret.

I’m afraid. I’m afraid that I will lose my cases and have to look my clients in their eyes and tell them I did my best without being able to give them justice. I’m afraid I will cry in the courtroom because I am so emotionally attached to my cause that it’s all personal for me. I’m afraid that I will wake up one day, after crying myself to sleep and realize that I can’t face any more clients or judges or courtrooms because hearing one more “Not Guilty” will do me in. I’m afraid that I won’t be good at it. 

But get this.

Every now and again, when I wake up after a particularly brutal article, I feel it. I feel the revolution. I feel the change in my brain that says “Hey. You don’t have to be perfect. But if no one stands up, nothing will ever change. What if the person we’re all waiting to stand up is you?” And I look at the fictional characters that I relate to most. Sam and Dean Winchester. General Organa. Buffy Summers. I see them given an impossibly frustrating task-one that they don’t feel qualified to handle and they feel overwhelmed and hopeless. I look at the characters who struggle with themselves. Liv Moore. Anna Marie (Rogue). Selina Kyle (Catwoman). Castiel. I see them fighting their own identities, trying to figure out why their lives are the way they are. I look at stories that split the line between misunderstood and wrongly judged. Maleficent. Prue Halliwell. Captain Janeway. I see people who had terrible things happen that forced them to react.

I wrote my personal statement for law school over heroes. As soon as I hear one way or another, I’ll post my Personal Statement here, because I’m actually kinda proud of it. It’s something I need to keep looking over. In it, I referenced Les Miserables, Supernatural and Daredevil. I spoke of Enjolras standing up for what was right, Dean Winchester’s redemption and Matt Murdock’s humanity. The story lines that spoke to me most about being brave, even when you’re afraid.

The great thing about superhero(ine) stories is that they apply to you whether you’re dealing with a bully, you’re fighting your own inner demons, you’re focused on saving the world. Uncle Ben’s words are still as true today as they were the first time they were printed: “With great privilege comes great responsibility.”

So no. I don’t feel like I can do this. I feel overwhelmed and terrified. I feel hopeless and insignificant. And that’s exactly why I have to keep trying.

I’m Sorry

I feel the need to talk to you all, and I’m struggling with words-but things still need said.

So I’m going just make this post about what really matters-love and acceptance. I won’t-and can’t-give into hate, especially with what happened yesterday/this morning.

You are valid. You are loved. You are valued. You have worth. You have meaning. You are needed. You have purpose. You are important.

Here are links to some of the blogs I’ve written that are necessary right now, I feel, and the more important ones have ** beside them.

** Orientation and Gender Validation

Sexual Assault Facts/Survivor Story

My Letter to the Stanford Victim

Inconceivable.

** Sexual Assault Resources

Women’s Rights

When Push Comes to Shove

** We The People

** Enough

 

Please know that this day is but one of many. And although what you are feeling is valid, our battle is only just beginning. I will be out there, fighting for rights-yours and mine. And as long as we all know that oppression isn’t something we have to just accept, we will never be defeated.

All I ask is that we do not give into fear and hatred. That is the currency of the people who were elected-not us.

Together, we are stronger. Together, we will live.

The sun will rise again.