I've believed for a while now that true happiness is cultivated from the foundation of being able to be completely alone and truly like the company you keep in the empty moments. While I've always thought this to be logical and true on an intellectual level, I was recently forced to put this belief to the test when my family went on a ten-day road trip, leaving me by myself to tend to all the responsibilities of running a household. Not only did they leave me with all the chores, they also left me to meet myself for in essence, the first time.
Before they left, I was flying high. I thought to myself, I'll be fine..I've traveled alone, explored different countries, lived with complete strangers, this will be great! But then the day of their departure came and a flood of fear washed into my stomach, especially after the realization that I had never actually been on my own for longer than three or four days. With this in tow, ten days seemed like an eternity. I knew I was going to spend a LOT of time watering our jungle-like garden and taking care of the family chickens (and little Meesha), but aside from working night shifts, I was freaking out about how to fill in the cracks when the responsibilities weren't consuming my focus. I've always thought of myself as a highly independent person, so these fears completely blindsided me.
For the first three days, I have to admit that I was a little bit miserable. I blasted music throughout the house to drown out the silence, spent as much time at work as possible without seeming completely needy, and watched movies in my down time. I tried my best to invite friends over to fill the void of my family being gone, but only one plan followed through, so ultimately I was forced to face my days alone. I did essentially everything possible to distract myself, and I felt so pathetic. I've always liked my space and alone time...why did this feel so different? What was I trying so hard not to look at?
After day four, my fears began to subside and I started enjoying the fact that I had the whole house to myself. By day six, I was on cloud nine. I stopped blasting music, chose to stay away from the computer most of the time, and happily came home after work to an empty house. I felt like I could finally be completely present and tap into the spirit of the experience. By day eight I was looking up and interviewing for apartments/rooms for rent in Pasadena, and getting excited about the idea of moving out to expand on these new found feelings of control and freedom. By day ten, I was bummed that I didn't have more time to hang out by myself, but also happy that I could share everything that had happened with my family.
I don't really know what changed between day three and day four, but all I know is that I came face to face with myself and I liked what I saw in the reflection. I learned so much about myself and how I function when I'm on my own, and I have so much respect for that person. I developed a humorous relationship with myself and the Universe, and as a result, I feel like those relationships became more profound.
Some of my favorite memories during those ten days were singing at the top of my lungs and laughing like a maniac whenever my voice broke or I hit a wrong note, and dancing like a dork in front of the mirror with my skivvies on only to erupt in boisterous laughter at how ridiculous I was making myself look. I loved finding out that I can crack myself up even if there isn't anyone else around to laugh with me (or at me ;) ), and that I can shake my head and snicker when the Universe decides to throw me a curve ball. I became hyper-responsible with my duties around the house, and it permeated into the other areas of my life as well. I got out of bed at 7am or earlier (a normally very rare occurrence) every morning to feed the chickens and the pup, water the garden, keep track of Mom's bills, cook myself healthy vegan meals, do my homework for the TEFL course, exercise, write in my journal, meditate, and get ahead of things. I could not believe how focused I could be if I really set my mind to it, even though this time around it was mostly out of necessity.
Life flowed during those ten days, and it continues to flow easily even now because I've tasted how freedom feels and the flavor hasn't yet faded. Those mere ten days have prepared me to fly the coop and see how well my newbie wings can handle the blustery winds change can sometimes bring. Am I scared and nervous to finally move out and live pretty much on my own? Absolutely. But I know this is something I have (and want) to do for the person I'm meant to become.
I realize in hindsight that I wasn't just taking care of the house, but that I was also cultivating a home inside of myself. For the first time in my life, I feel at home in my own body, in my own being. Home isn't just where my family is, or just in Italy; it's wherever I go. I know now in the deepest part of my soul that in order to be truly present and unconditionally loving with others, I have to be present and unconditionally loving with myself first.
And just like that, happiness alighted itself softly onto my shoulders like a butterfly and revealed it's incomprehensible beauty in the still, still silence.
September 01, 2013
August 27, 2012
Out of the Closet
There has been a lot going on lately regarding gay rights and the resistance that's come along with deciding whether or not it should be allowed (again). After what happened with Chik-Fil-A, I was inspired to write about gay rights in general, seeing as I've never written about it for fear of being thought gay myself by others...but then I realized that what others think of me is really none of my business.
Before I dive in, however, I want to make a disclaimer. By writing this blog, I am only stating my own truth and sharing what my personal beliefs are. My intention is not to bash anyone else's or make them wrong or bad. I am here to express myself creatively from a place of love. If you agree with me, that's great; if not, that's okay too--we all have a right to our own thoughts and feelings.
Now that that's been said, I will begin. This topic hits close to home, and when I say close, I mean an asteroid just blew up our house. As most of my peers from high school and beyond know, my mom is lesbian. Yes boys and girls, she likes women. She has been with her partner since I was three years old, so the gay issue has been an ongoing steady presence in my life. In the beginning, it was normal to me and felt completely normal, other than the fact that my father was heartbroken, angry and uptight whenever we (my sisters and I) mentioned the two of them. In my inner world, I couldn't see a problem because I loved them both, and I didn't have the capacity at that time to fully understand the situation.
The first problems I remember encountering in my external world started happening from 6th grade on. Certain people from school started making lude comments about my mom being gay, and that's when shame welcomed itself into my conscious emotions, and made me feel like who my mom was, was wrong. I thought I had been secretive and selective of who I told along the way, but when 8th grade came around and a popular girl caught wind of this, it spread like wildfire. This shame and anger made me say and do things that I was not proud of to the people that made fun of my mom and of me. Some of those actions made me really unpopular with my peers, and I understand why. I was really mean and lashed out, all because I was scared of people thinking that I was the same way and liked girls.
It wasn't until junior and senior year of high school that my inner world started to calm down around the issue. Once I was fully capable of understanding what was going on and feeling a little more comfortable in my own skin, I accepted my mom and her partner for who they were, individually and as a couple. I knew deep down that just because my mom loved a woman didn't mean that I was the same way. Ironically, the minute I became comfortable with the idea, external comments started to fade, because I didn't give them any emotional power. It also helped that my sisters were there the last two years of my high school career; I didn't have to brave it completely alone :)
Needless to say, my journey to acceptance of this issue wasn't an easy one, even when my own mother was part of it, so I understand that not everyone will have or has had an easy time with it. Nowadays, if anyone asks what my family life is like, I'll tell them; I don't have any more qualms regarding my mother's sexual orientation. And as a side note, I'm proud to say that my mom and her partner are still together after 18 years, and are better than ever :) I think that's more than most hetero marriages can account for...just a guess.
When the whole drama with Chik-Fil-A first came out (no pun intended), I have to admit: I was really angry...angrier than I've been with most other anti-gay campaigns. I've never given too much emotional thought to the battle of gay rights in the past, since both of my moms never really gave a hoot about all the hooyah. But I guess this particular campaign caught me at a weak moment, because I was MAD. I thought, seriously? Thousands of people are buying greasy, fatty foods to support this anti-gay company (or rather, the CEO who is anti-gay marriage)?! It just didn't make any sense to me, and I was especially offended by "friends" on Facebook, posting statuses such as, "isn't their leadership great?", blah blah blah. This lead to making feisty comments and loud posts stating my beliefs (which I hardly ever do), which brought me to some intense self-reflection and deep thought. If I had never been this wound up over things of this manner, why was this time different?
I started thinking in terms of the world, not limited to gay rights, because throughout our whole history, we've had uprisings and suppressors of every kind: battle with women's rights and chauvinistic males, abolishment of slavery and slave holders, battle with black rights (after they were no longer slaves on a wide scale) against whites, and now we have moved on to gay rights against religious leaders and politicians. The thing that made my anger fizzle out was the realization that every single one of these battles was won at some point: women received rights, slavery was abolished, blacks eventually ceased to be segregated, and I'm confident that gay's right to marriage will no longer be an issue in the near future.
What each of these groups in the past were doing, was fighting for freedom and the chance to live like they wanted to live without being told what they could and couldn't do, where they could or couldn't go, or who they could or couldn't be. And the worst part is, hate is learned. We are not born hating others, we are taught to do so by our families, our peers, our leaders, etc. to hate certain things, groups of people, and ideas through stereotypes, personal experience, and fear. The best part is, because we learn it, we can also un-learn it.
I heard someone say once that one of the reasons they promote hating certain groups (like gays), is because hate brings people together. While that is obviously true on some level (I mean, just look at how many people went to buy some chicken), the part that bothers me is that people are being "brought together" at the expense of another; someone has to be left out in order for this to happen. Love, on the other hand, leaves out no one. Love is the only force that truly brings people together of every gender, race, sexual orientation, and class.
I get it; it's a lot easier to hate than it is to love for most people, because when you're hating, you're not paying attention to how you're really feeling, which is probably scared, hurt, confused, jealous, or something close to it. Have I hated on certain people and groups before? Yes. I'm not perfect. But what I realized is that whatever or whoever I was hating on only reflected my own fears, insecurities and anger (which all go hand in hand, by the way). We are all human and trying to find our way through this world as best as we know how.
At the end of the day, I don't really believe it's about gay marriage, women vs. men or black vs. white. I believe those are all just surface issues, concealing the core issue of humanity. I believe the core issue we all face is deciding how to live our lives in the most true, authentic way, where we are following our passions, and knowing that that is enough; that WE are enough, exactly the way we are. I have found that when I am happy and living my life the way I want to, I don't have the time nor desire to hate anybody or make people's choices in life my business. It's only when I feel trapped or stuck or inferior that I turn to that stuff to try and make my ego feel better, even though it doesn't really work in the long run.
Having a gay mom has had it's ups and downs, just like every family has, but I appreciate what life lessons it's taught me. Instead of screwing up my life and making me gay, contrary to popular belief, it has made me more accepting and open-minded to those different from myself. I strive to be more accepting every day, especially of myself. I don't always agree with everybody or approve of what they do, but it's THEIR life to live, not mine; their life is none of my business and doesn't affect me unless I let it.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want to live more and more in love, and less and less in fear. I want to live more as my authentic self on my own unique life path, and let others do the same, wherever they are on theirs. I choose freedom, and all responsibility that comes with it.
The beauty of humanity is this: the human spirit cannot be suppressed forever. Control and hate may be powerful for a while, but it never wins in the end. Humans will always fight to be free, and free they will be.
Before I dive in, however, I want to make a disclaimer. By writing this blog, I am only stating my own truth and sharing what my personal beliefs are. My intention is not to bash anyone else's or make them wrong or bad. I am here to express myself creatively from a place of love. If you agree with me, that's great; if not, that's okay too--we all have a right to our own thoughts and feelings.
Now that that's been said, I will begin. This topic hits close to home, and when I say close, I mean an asteroid just blew up our house. As most of my peers from high school and beyond know, my mom is lesbian. Yes boys and girls, she likes women. She has been with her partner since I was three years old, so the gay issue has been an ongoing steady presence in my life. In the beginning, it was normal to me and felt completely normal, other than the fact that my father was heartbroken, angry and uptight whenever we (my sisters and I) mentioned the two of them. In my inner world, I couldn't see a problem because I loved them both, and I didn't have the capacity at that time to fully understand the situation.
The first problems I remember encountering in my external world started happening from 6th grade on. Certain people from school started making lude comments about my mom being gay, and that's when shame welcomed itself into my conscious emotions, and made me feel like who my mom was, was wrong. I thought I had been secretive and selective of who I told along the way, but when 8th grade came around and a popular girl caught wind of this, it spread like wildfire. This shame and anger made me say and do things that I was not proud of to the people that made fun of my mom and of me. Some of those actions made me really unpopular with my peers, and I understand why. I was really mean and lashed out, all because I was scared of people thinking that I was the same way and liked girls.
It wasn't until junior and senior year of high school that my inner world started to calm down around the issue. Once I was fully capable of understanding what was going on and feeling a little more comfortable in my own skin, I accepted my mom and her partner for who they were, individually and as a couple. I knew deep down that just because my mom loved a woman didn't mean that I was the same way. Ironically, the minute I became comfortable with the idea, external comments started to fade, because I didn't give them any emotional power. It also helped that my sisters were there the last two years of my high school career; I didn't have to brave it completely alone :)
Needless to say, my journey to acceptance of this issue wasn't an easy one, even when my own mother was part of it, so I understand that not everyone will have or has had an easy time with it. Nowadays, if anyone asks what my family life is like, I'll tell them; I don't have any more qualms regarding my mother's sexual orientation. And as a side note, I'm proud to say that my mom and her partner are still together after 18 years, and are better than ever :) I think that's more than most hetero marriages can account for...just a guess.
When the whole drama with Chik-Fil-A first came out (no pun intended), I have to admit: I was really angry...angrier than I've been with most other anti-gay campaigns. I've never given too much emotional thought to the battle of gay rights in the past, since both of my moms never really gave a hoot about all the hooyah. But I guess this particular campaign caught me at a weak moment, because I was MAD. I thought, seriously? Thousands of people are buying greasy, fatty foods to support this anti-gay company (or rather, the CEO who is anti-gay marriage)?! It just didn't make any sense to me, and I was especially offended by "friends" on Facebook, posting statuses such as, "isn't their leadership great?", blah blah blah. This lead to making feisty comments and loud posts stating my beliefs (which I hardly ever do), which brought me to some intense self-reflection and deep thought. If I had never been this wound up over things of this manner, why was this time different?
I started thinking in terms of the world, not limited to gay rights, because throughout our whole history, we've had uprisings and suppressors of every kind: battle with women's rights and chauvinistic males, abolishment of slavery and slave holders, battle with black rights (after they were no longer slaves on a wide scale) against whites, and now we have moved on to gay rights against religious leaders and politicians. The thing that made my anger fizzle out was the realization that every single one of these battles was won at some point: women received rights, slavery was abolished, blacks eventually ceased to be segregated, and I'm confident that gay's right to marriage will no longer be an issue in the near future.
What each of these groups in the past were doing, was fighting for freedom and the chance to live like they wanted to live without being told what they could and couldn't do, where they could or couldn't go, or who they could or couldn't be. And the worst part is, hate is learned. We are not born hating others, we are taught to do so by our families, our peers, our leaders, etc. to hate certain things, groups of people, and ideas through stereotypes, personal experience, and fear. The best part is, because we learn it, we can also un-learn it.
I heard someone say once that one of the reasons they promote hating certain groups (like gays), is because hate brings people together. While that is obviously true on some level (I mean, just look at how many people went to buy some chicken), the part that bothers me is that people are being "brought together" at the expense of another; someone has to be left out in order for this to happen. Love, on the other hand, leaves out no one. Love is the only force that truly brings people together of every gender, race, sexual orientation, and class.
I get it; it's a lot easier to hate than it is to love for most people, because when you're hating, you're not paying attention to how you're really feeling, which is probably scared, hurt, confused, jealous, or something close to it. Have I hated on certain people and groups before? Yes. I'm not perfect. But what I realized is that whatever or whoever I was hating on only reflected my own fears, insecurities and anger (which all go hand in hand, by the way). We are all human and trying to find our way through this world as best as we know how.
At the end of the day, I don't really believe it's about gay marriage, women vs. men or black vs. white. I believe those are all just surface issues, concealing the core issue of humanity. I believe the core issue we all face is deciding how to live our lives in the most true, authentic way, where we are following our passions, and knowing that that is enough; that WE are enough, exactly the way we are. I have found that when I am happy and living my life the way I want to, I don't have the time nor desire to hate anybody or make people's choices in life my business. It's only when I feel trapped or stuck or inferior that I turn to that stuff to try and make my ego feel better, even though it doesn't really work in the long run.
Having a gay mom has had it's ups and downs, just like every family has, but I appreciate what life lessons it's taught me. Instead of screwing up my life and making me gay, contrary to popular belief, it has made me more accepting and open-minded to those different from myself. I strive to be more accepting every day, especially of myself. I don't always agree with everybody or approve of what they do, but it's THEIR life to live, not mine; their life is none of my business and doesn't affect me unless I let it.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want to live more and more in love, and less and less in fear. I want to live more as my authentic self on my own unique life path, and let others do the same, wherever they are on theirs. I choose freedom, and all responsibility that comes with it.
The beauty of humanity is this: the human spirit cannot be suppressed forever. Control and hate may be powerful for a while, but it never wins in the end. Humans will always fight to be free, and free they will be.
May 17, 2012
Breaking Point
Sometimes, in the quiet moments of the days that pass by, I think about how surreal my life is. I ask myself, is this it? Is this really my life? When I look back on everything I've been through and done, it somehow doesn't feel real. It's almost as if I've been watching myself play out a character in a movie, completely detached.
This feeling all seemed to start when, back in January, I decided to stay home for the summer, instead of going back to Italy to work for the family I lived with last year. This was a monumentally life-changing decision, one that I still don't fully understand, but for some reason it felt like the right thing to do. Just because it feels right in my heart, however, doesn't mean that it was an easy choice, and in fact it is still hard knowing that I let someone else take my place. I grew unbelievably attached to the family, the atmosphere, the language, and everything else about Italy, essentially, and I feel like it's now slowly slipping away.
I realize now that I attached my whole sense of self to this beautiful place, without having established a foundation to build on here in the states. And although it is, without a doubt in my mind, my ultimate dream to live there one day, fully immersed in all that is Italy, I was using it in part, as an escape from the issues I was afraid to face here. When I ripped Italy away from myself, all that remained were those issues, right where I left them, waiting for some serious confrontation.
So here I am, starting over. Who am I without the "ciao bella's" and the "buongiorno's" and the "ma che dici's!?" and of course, the infamous cappuccini? What is Heather made of when she's not getting herself to Italy, being in Italy, or coming home from Italy, only to then repeat the cycle? Who is she when the one dream she's ever been sure of has seemingly been stripped away?
The hardest and most surreal part about all of this is that, what I have discovered so far, I don't necessarily like. I don't like who I am without Italy: I'm lazy, lacking in integrity, confused, unfocused, and filled with doubt. Why was it so easy for me to trust the process of life when it was for Italy, but when it's for myself, I doubt and fear at every turn? I hardly recognize the person I've become in the past few months.
People always say that sometimes it has to get worse before it gets better, and that has definitely rung true for me throughout this process. At some point, though, it either: a) literally can't get any worse, or b) you reach the breaking point, where you absolutely cannot continue they way you've been going (unless you want your life to become even more complicated), whether this is due to external circumstances, ones solely internal, or a combination of both.
My breaking point happened about a week ago, when all of the consequences of my actions (or lack thereof) smacked me in the face, hard as a brick. In that moment, I had one of two choices: 1) continue on a downward spiral, or 2) face my fears and change. There was really only one choice for me, and after making the decision to change, things quickly started to shift. The other day, my moment of freedom arrived on a silver platter, perfectly assembled for my mental and emotional health, during a business meeting. While one of the team leaders was speaking to us, a small, quiet voice inside my head, randomly said: it's okay, you can be happy here.
An intense feeling of relief washed over me, because now I could recognize part of why I've been holding myself back for the past few months. I was afraid that if I was happy here, or anywhere else besides Italy for that matter, I would be "giving up" on my dream, or being disloyal. I feared that it would become less and less important to me as my happiness grew elsewhere, and I was too attached to the way Italy made me feel: happy, light, care-free, positive, and courageous--feelings that I've never yet truly allowed myself to experience here in the States. And then I realized how silly this fear was. Why would I limit myself to being happy in only one place? Since at this point I don't know when I'll return to my beloved country, why would I want to spend years and years of my life unhappy, just because I'm living on the "wrong" continent? It doesn't make any sense.
As much as I love Italy and feel at home within it's borders, I need to fall in love with life even within the confines of California, within the confines of the little city I reside in. I want to fall in love with life wherever I am in the world and create a solid foundation from which to build--no dream can be made real on shaky ground. So, here is to discovering who I am and what I'm made of, with no attachments to anything or anyone; stripped down to the very core of my existence, naked to the world.
This feeling all seemed to start when, back in January, I decided to stay home for the summer, instead of going back to Italy to work for the family I lived with last year. This was a monumentally life-changing decision, one that I still don't fully understand, but for some reason it felt like the right thing to do. Just because it feels right in my heart, however, doesn't mean that it was an easy choice, and in fact it is still hard knowing that I let someone else take my place. I grew unbelievably attached to the family, the atmosphere, the language, and everything else about Italy, essentially, and I feel like it's now slowly slipping away.
I realize now that I attached my whole sense of self to this beautiful place, without having established a foundation to build on here in the states. And although it is, without a doubt in my mind, my ultimate dream to live there one day, fully immersed in all that is Italy, I was using it in part, as an escape from the issues I was afraid to face here. When I ripped Italy away from myself, all that remained were those issues, right where I left them, waiting for some serious confrontation.
So here I am, starting over. Who am I without the "ciao bella's" and the "buongiorno's" and the "ma che dici's!?" and of course, the infamous cappuccini? What is Heather made of when she's not getting herself to Italy, being in Italy, or coming home from Italy, only to then repeat the cycle? Who is she when the one dream she's ever been sure of has seemingly been stripped away?
The hardest and most surreal part about all of this is that, what I have discovered so far, I don't necessarily like. I don't like who I am without Italy: I'm lazy, lacking in integrity, confused, unfocused, and filled with doubt. Why was it so easy for me to trust the process of life when it was for Italy, but when it's for myself, I doubt and fear at every turn? I hardly recognize the person I've become in the past few months.
People always say that sometimes it has to get worse before it gets better, and that has definitely rung true for me throughout this process. At some point, though, it either: a) literally can't get any worse, or b) you reach the breaking point, where you absolutely cannot continue they way you've been going (unless you want your life to become even more complicated), whether this is due to external circumstances, ones solely internal, or a combination of both.
My breaking point happened about a week ago, when all of the consequences of my actions (or lack thereof) smacked me in the face, hard as a brick. In that moment, I had one of two choices: 1) continue on a downward spiral, or 2) face my fears and change. There was really only one choice for me, and after making the decision to change, things quickly started to shift. The other day, my moment of freedom arrived on a silver platter, perfectly assembled for my mental and emotional health, during a business meeting. While one of the team leaders was speaking to us, a small, quiet voice inside my head, randomly said: it's okay, you can be happy here.
An intense feeling of relief washed over me, because now I could recognize part of why I've been holding myself back for the past few months. I was afraid that if I was happy here, or anywhere else besides Italy for that matter, I would be "giving up" on my dream, or being disloyal. I feared that it would become less and less important to me as my happiness grew elsewhere, and I was too attached to the way Italy made me feel: happy, light, care-free, positive, and courageous--feelings that I've never yet truly allowed myself to experience here in the States. And then I realized how silly this fear was. Why would I limit myself to being happy in only one place? Since at this point I don't know when I'll return to my beloved country, why would I want to spend years and years of my life unhappy, just because I'm living on the "wrong" continent? It doesn't make any sense.
As much as I love Italy and feel at home within it's borders, I need to fall in love with life even within the confines of California, within the confines of the little city I reside in. I want to fall in love with life wherever I am in the world and create a solid foundation from which to build--no dream can be made real on shaky ground. So, here is to discovering who I am and what I'm made of, with no attachments to anything or anyone; stripped down to the very core of my existence, naked to the world.
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