Politics, Yo

Politics, yo.

I know some people love the process. They revel in it. Want to be a part of it.

I'm not one of those people. 

I hate it. I hate pretty much everything about it. I think it's a vile system that thrives on greed, power, game-playing, and dishonesty. Mostly, I hate what politics have become for the ordinary person - this polarizing, living, breathing entity of US versus THEM.

If you're not with us, you're against us.

Have we ever, as a nation, been so divided? I don't think we have. I mean, every election year is ugly, no doubt, but right now? It's all so disgusting, so mean, so unpleasant, so... 

                                                                  Disheartening.

I've always been a politically opinionated person. I've always called myself an 'Independent', though I pretty much always vote one way. And since there are really only two ways to vote, I probably always will. Though there are similarities in the parties (I believe they are both controlled by corporate America), there are some significant differences, and several of those differences are so important to me that I will probably never jump the fence.

If I could? I'd remove myself from the process entirely. I'd ignore everything about it and go about my merry way, completely ignorant and blissful. But I can't. I feel that I have to vote, if for no other reason than to honor the women who fought so hard for my right to do so. And in order to vote, I have to be informed (as difficult as it may be to inform oneself, given the unreliability of the media and unbelievable amount of utter garbage that people spread around). But I will vote in this election as I have in every election in which I've participated - with a heavy heart... with the knowledge that there is no one who makes me feel really good about casting my vote.

No one.

There are, however, those who would make me feel much worse and I see it as my responsibility to do my little part (for whatever it's really worth) to make sure those people don't make it to their desired offices. But in the end, there isn't, nor has there ever been, anyone I feel wholeheartedly good about voting for.

Someone asked me the other day who my ideal candidate would be. Though there are a few people in national government I would like to see make a play for the presidency at some point, it's hard to say whether or not I'd want them to be elected until they actually do it and spell out their plans and platforms. I know the sort of person I'd like to see, though...

First, I want an atheist - someone who is not ruled by dogma, but by Humanism. A woman would be great. A black woman would be even better (as long as the country grows up and doesn't spew the ugly bigoted vitriol that's been hurled at our current President for the past 8 years). Yes, a black woman atheist with degrees in economics and perhaps the law or education. With kids in public school. I want a candidate whose moral compass is always pointing north, who always tries to do the right thing, regardless of who's trying to line her pockets. I want a candidate who sees all citizens as equal under the law, and who somehow inspires every lawmaker under her to do the same. A candidate who understands that we live in a global society and that peace is what we should be actively striving for, across the globe. I want a candidate who truly understands what it's like to live in the REAL America - the America that will bankrupt you if you get sick, the America where affordable housing is a joke and the homeless are treated like a disease, the America where the social care systems are designed to keep people in poverty, the America where for-profit prisons and the 'war on drugs' only creates more criminals, the America where guns are more plentiful than common sense, the America where wanting a college degree means being so far in debt upon graduation that you have to work for decades to pay off student loans, the America where being old is absolutely terrifying for a large number of seniors.

And I want a candidate who can find a way - some way - to make the parties work together.

I don't know that such a person exists. Well, that's not true. I'm certain she exists. She exists all over America. But I can't imagine her wanting to be President. And maybe that's the problem.

Anyone who actually wants the job is someone I don't want to have the job.

So, we're stuck with the ones who want to run. 

So, for now, though I can't remove myself from the process entirely, I will do so to the extent that I can. I'm as finished as I can be and still be informed enough to vote. I don't care what anyone else says or does about any of it. Few people want to discuss or learn; most people simply want their points of view to be heard... but hardly anyone's listening.

This next year is going to be torture. Thankfully, I don't have cable, so I can't see the campaign ads. I'm still in the process of limiting my social media feed and for the people I don't want to stop following, I'll just scroll quickly past the posts I don't want to see. I have to remind myself to stop reading the comments after nearly every online article, political or not, as in an election year, everything becomes political.

I'll make it through.

And then the election will be over.

And the bitching about the new President will begin.

Yeah. I'm really not happy about this.

Do-Overs

I was in the grocery store today and realized that Thanksgiving is on Thursday. I don't know how it happened; it's nearly winter; 2015 is nearly over. Time isn't just flying by... it's flying by at the speed of light.

Sigh.

The other day, a friend was talking about do-overs; she said she'd like to go back and do-over a particularly difficult period of time in her life - one that set her on a course that has resulted in even greater difficulty.

Um... hello.

That sounds a lot like my life. Like my whole entire life.

So I said I wouldn't mind a do-over either, but I'd have to go back knowing what I know now. Otherwise, it's pretty likely I'd screw up as big (or even bigger) than before.

Then I started to really think about it...

I thought about the point at which I'd like to start over...

There are so very many potentials...

Moving to Pigsknuckle?

The moment I found out my marriage was over?

Before Ryan was born?

Before I got married?

College?

The more I thought about the mistakes I've made along the way (the many, many mistakes), I figured I'd really pretty much need to go back to junior high school and start all over.

Then I thought about avoiding all those mistakes...

What would my life be like if I hadn't made them all?

What if I knew in junior high school that being awkward and ungainly wasn't, in fact, the end of the world or what would define me for the rest of my life? What if I just allowed myself to be who I was and let people like me (or not) instead of trying so hard (and failing) to fit in?

What if I had studied harder and actually found a career I really wanted right out of school?

What if I'd been smarter with my money? Man, that's a big one. A really big one.  

I thought of all the people I've met in the past 35 years - the people who have become my family. If my path had gone in a different direction, would I even have had the opportunity to know them? Well, if I took all my knowledge back with me, I'd be able to find them, certainly, but would I be able to know them the way I know them know? Would they know me the way they know me now? What if they had never had to see me at my worst and most vulnerable? What if they hadn't had to pick up the pieces of my shattered self they way they have done, so, so many times. Would they love me the way they love me now?

I thought of Ryan - what if my choice in husbands had been different? Had I not met her dad, she wouldn't be here.

My god.

OK, so don't go back so far, Diane... go back to when she was born...

Would I have worked harder to save my marriage? Would I have even been able to prevent its demise? Would I have wanted to? What if I had... I would have become a different person. And if I was a different person, I would be a different mother. If I was a different mother, would Ryan be the same amazing person she is today? Would she be as resourceful or as independent or as practical and passionate and appreciative of everything she gets if she had grown up in a financially secure, two-parent household... where one parent was a narcissist and one didn't even recognize herself in the mirror?

Would I have gotten Sundance?!

What if I went back to when I moved to Pigsknuckle... and I went about the whole dating process differently and I met someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with? What would Ryan be like if she had a father who loved her and who was present in her life? What would I be like if I had someone to rely on and share things with -- if I didn't have to do all the things by myself?

What if I'd not been scared and I'd picked up and moved us to England when I really thought about going - when it was within my grasp? How would things be different then?

What if I'd treated my body differently for all those years? Would I have gotten cancer?

So many choices... so many possibilities... so many differences...

But here's the thing... in every scenario I imagined, for everything that got better, I lost something -- a person, an experience, a lesson, an understanding...

And I didn't even get into the whole ideas of 'What if your new mistakes turned out to be even bigger than your old ones?' or 'What if, regardless of all the different choices you made, you wound up getting run over by a bus?'

My life is not where I want it to be. There is never enough money or time and I'm always tired and needing something out of reach.

But I have so much.

I have people who love me, friends who are family, a daughter who shines so brightly, she makes my heart ache, and a job I love.

And when it's all said and done, it really comes down to the fact that do-overs aren't possible.

Yeah.

I think it's probably for the best.

Home Alone

In my whole adult life, I have never had a home. Not really. I’ve had places where I’ve kept my stuff… places where I’ve lain my head every night… places I’ve returned to at the end of trips and vacations…

But never a home.

Everywhere I’ve lived has felt temporary. Nowhere has felt like mine. There has never been a place where I’ve been able to go and completely shed the worries and dirt and noise of the day.

I want that place.

I want to find home.

I’ve wondered if home isn’t a place, but a person. And if I find that person – that person who feels like home – maybe I’ll finally feel at home. Somewhere.

Anywhere.

But I don’t know if that person exists. I’m beginning to doubt it.

I also tell myself that expecting another person to make me feel at home is wrong. It’s a bad idea. I have to find it on my own. That’s the healthy thing to do.

Right?

And I’ve wondered if home is simply in me. Inside me... somewhere deep inside – in a place I haven’t been able to access yet.

But I don’t know if that place exists either. I’m beginning to doubt it.

There is a place in me that no one is allowed to go. It’s not that I don’t want anyone in there with me; it’s that I don’t know how to let anyone in.

But that place?

It’s not home.

It’s not a nice warm place. It’s a dark and lonely. It’s where I go when I’m hurting. And even though people try to get in, I won’t open the door.

I can’t open the door.

It’s why, even when I’m surrounded by people who love me – people who won’t let me walk this world by myself – I still feel alone.

My friends have been able to reach in and pull me out of that place… and for that, I am grateful. But no one has ever made it inside – fully inside.

I wish someone would.

What responsibility that would be, though. That person would share the weight of my insecurities, my failings, my shortcomings.

He would hold my heart in his hand.

And that?

Is too much, I think.

I think I'm asking too much; hoping for too much.

At least I’m not expecting it.

That’s something.

But home…

Yeah.

Home would be nice.

If I Lived Here...

If I lived here...

I would hang a whimsical little sign in the front garden, declaring the cottage's name Wit's End. That way, when people visited, they could say they were at Wit's End with Diane. And since the cottage is by the sea, we would be at Wit's End at land's end... and everyone would smile at the play on words.

I would paint the front door yellow, so everyone would know they were entering a happy, sunshiny place... and I'd plant peonies and Gerber daisies and yellow sunflowers along the stone path to the door, to greet all my guests with smiles straight from the Earth.

If I lived here, you could come visit... for a week... or a month... or a year. You'd be welcome, always, and for as long as you wanted to stay.

When you visit, we could sleep late, under cozy duvets (because even in summer, the sea breeze is quite cool). In the mornings, we'd have steaming mugs of tea at the kitchen table by the window overlooking the blue water, and bowls of fresh berries and clotted cream for breakfast.

On warm, sunny days, we would sit outside and listen to the sea... and the sea would listen to us, as we talk and talk to catch up on all we've missed in each other's lives.

 

And when the sun is settling a bit closer to the horizon, we could walk on the beach with the dog... and we could look for seashells while he chases gulls.

On rainy days, we could sit inside, by the fire, and read. You could lose yourself in stories of pirates and time travel and brave heroes who lived before... and I'll fall into a mystery set in a rainy North Sea village or in a story told in beautifully-written letters between lovers.

In the early evenings, we could stroll to the village, and stop by the pub for a pint or two. We'd have to stop to chat to the owner of the local cheese shop, of course, as he's a lovely man and always keeps a bit of Halloumi aside for me.

And at night, when all is quiet except for the sound of the waves lapping the shore and the fire crackling in the hearth, you could write letters home, telling everyone what a glorious time you're having... and I'll write in my journal about how I hope you'll stay for a long, long time.

If I lived here...