Freedom in all its forms

Tags

alan watts, buddhism, clarity, couples, dating, existentialism, expat, feminism, freedom, home, immigrant, life, love, Paris, settling, single, travel, wanderlust, woman

So my subconscious/superego/something I”m not fully aware of has been fighting my heart tooth and nail for the last three years or so. Once I consciously chose a life of adventure, every control freak cell of my body, every guilty good Catholic girl tendency, every scared shitless self-loathing part of me has fought against me, tooth and nail.

The chronic stress has come not from doing hard things, but from working against myself every step of the way. Just getting myself ready for work on time, getting myself out of bed to do something I really want to do, and most of all, not folowing every semi destructive impulse has been difficult. So yes, I have bought one too many massages and I have eaten more than one madeleine in search of lost time and roads not taken and guilt over what I’ve become, but I am still here, and that means I’ve won.

I love Paris, forever, forever, forever. I want to plant myself here. I’m not sure if I want to stay forever, but sometimes I do, but really I just want to know I can always come back. The truth is I want to stay until I become French, Parisienne, I think. I want a claim, sometimes I want to own a piece of Paris, I want roots that go way down deep in the earth and branches reaching up to the stars, to heaven. I want to comingle with the glamour and detritus of the past and stack my brick on the edifice of civilisation francaise. The mission civilisatrice, however cruel and grand and hypocritical, can begin with me…

But really, I want to wander the earth, not knowing exactly what I’m looking for, just finding.

I want to collect experiences instead of thing, but for the fact that collecting smacks of posession.

I want to let life happen to me and avoid spiritual and traveller materialism; I want to be so free my very existence is an act of rebellion a la Camus; but I want to find a rose, be a rose, and tend my little life too– I don’t think these desires are in such opposition but for logistic constraints. I don’t want to be a lonely hobo who is just letting the road go buy and not digging into juicy, messy, crowded reality in order to build something, be someone, and love people, and yet I don’t want to fall into a box, I don’t want to be defined, I want to remain the essence of wildness- a tiger who is not afraid even of a cage because he knows he can get out when he wants to.

I feel like all the little dangerous liaisons were boring and not so dangerous after all; only love is really worth the chase, and moreover, I hope it is an adventure too, and not just a box that’s been ticked off .Yes, I have a tendency to want to control it, to tell it to show up on my doorstep when and how I please, to not tie me down too much, to take me in exactly the direction I planned, to not be constrained at all by it.and yet, maybe the whole point of love (and life) is that loss is possible, that every moment is possible only due to the grace of serendipity, of a million tiny variables all coming into sync for a big bang of sorts, of a supernova that has enough fire to keep burning, perhaps long enough to keep us warm until the final night falls.  Maybe the point is that loving someone could change your life; maybe the point is to be fragile.

And children- o children- is their any bigger risk or heart throbbing adventure one can take? Is there any wonder more ephemeral or stupendous as a baby’s first steps? Babies don’t fit that nicely in backpacks and would require more than a carry on bag since they come with so many liquids, but after a while, is leaving home an adventure, or is building home the bigger play, the one that your heart could actually break upon?

I am not free because I travel; I travel because I am free. And I don’t want to be owned by someone, much as I want to be cherished and protected, and yes, kept and held. But maybe the reason I couldn’t let a certain someone go for so long was because he set me free. He saw the fire in my eyes and knew I had to go illuminate the world in flames. And maybe someday I’ll meet someone who can handle the fire, the jungle cat, and the mewling kitten that I am, the tree that is borrowing its roots so avidly into Paris’ soil, that is such a long way from home but yet has no plans of leaving…

I know the real answer to this quandary, which is to throw it all the wind and be so free and unapolegetically be and not to resist whatever comes, or doesn’t, to let my destiny take its shape and not insist too much on where the wind blows me, as long as its in the same direction as my heart. To believe, to the tips of my toes, that a single life is worth just as much as a coupled life, that life is full with children or without, that my life is already blessed and happy and God is guiding me wherever I go, that I have fucked up a lot but no more than I needed to in order to realize perfection is not in my hands, it’s already written into the plan. Yes, I’ve made a few real mistakes, could be worse, but the point is not to compare with where I could have been had I not made them. The point is not to say I’d be so much further along had I not fallen into the black hole. The point is to look around and see where that period brought me, to know that I struggled so, so hard against an undercurrent, I faced all my monsters and demons and fears, I lost some youthful fantasies and gained a few pounds but I’m still here, still claiming my adventure and my life for myself and not giving into fear.

Because yes, I do look at perpetually coupled off people who cycle through relationships and make unthinkable sacrifices as weak, yes, I think people who give up their dreams for their significantly other are cowardly fools, and for sure I want to strangle the words you can’t have it all- of course you can’t- but who are you to say everyone has to settle for a life without enthusiasm, passion, heart? Constraints can be liberating, if we take them on for the right reasons, but shackling yourself just to avoid seeing where the wind could take you is to be afraid of your own greatness, to spit in the face of Life, and to act craven and deny Jesus when called for a test of faith.

I know it’s not always easy to recognize the path, not when there can be so much self doubt and so many sabotaging, lulling voice that will lead you away from inner knowing.

But really, when you know you know.

And to know thyself, to recognize the still small voice within, and heed it, that is the freest one can ever be.

 

“The meaning of life is just to be alive. It is so plain and so obvious and so simple. And yet, everybody rushes around in a great panic as if it were necessary to achieve something beyond themselves.” Alan Watts

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Fire and freedom

Tags

broken heart, freedom, love, single

The last time I fell in love with someone, there was a moment when he saw my fire- my wildness, my fierceness, my freedom, my courage, my pride.

He saw my light.

This man did not choose to be with me, though I begged and pleaded, and he saw my destiny before I did. He abandoned me, though I thought he was my soulmate, but yes, maybe he was.

He is not some saint who set me free unselfishly even though he wanted to hold me till I died. No, he wanted his own life, and he wanted me to live mine.

No wonder why I loved him so long.

Freedom!

Tags

being yourself, freedom, intimacy, love, pride, self confidence, self-esteem

Today is the day I sent my love poetry to the person it was mostly about.
Even though we aren’t in a relationship and I am not counting on him doing anything about it.
No fear, only love.
I’ll take him however he shows up- and I love him so much as a friend. Will never regret a day of loving him, or wonder why- I just do.

And love will come in its own time. As Love pleases.

but yeah, go me!
Fuck yeah, most womanly, feminist, bad ass moment of my life!
Brene Brown would be proud.

I feel like the Chuck Norris of emotional courage right now.

Freedom

Tags

career, freedom, job, life, love, marketable, move, travel, twenties

It’s funny how what we strive for and our definitions of things change over time.

Freedom means a lot of things to different people- some will say it is freedom from capitalism and a minimum standard of living in a socialist country where the government plans everything while others would say it is laissez faire capitalism in a free country. And in their way, both are right.

For me, right now, freedom means having a transferable skill set and in demand profession that will let me live where I want and make the money I need to pay my bills and then some. Freedom would be paying off my student loans, and knowing that I could get a job in my field even if I took a year off to travel the world. Freedom would be knowing I could move to be the person I fell in love with or choose to be closer to my family and have a more than reasonable chance of getting a job and not hampering my career by doing so.

Freedom means being qualified enough to choose who I work for and what I do. Freedom is not necessarily unemployment, or even striving to have a stack of “f you” money so I would never have to work again. It would be nice, but it’s not necessary to be free.

And so, though I’m looking for a job right now, for work, for some kind of fairly steady grind, much as it’s something I’ve never done before and which goes in part of my variety-seeking nature, freedom is work.

Freedom is not about having no commitments or a totally blank canvas of a future. Freedom is not being caught in the oblivion of indecision. Freedom is moving forward, step by step, knowing you can adjust the sails at any time but you are charting a course nonetheless, and you have a reasonable sense that you will like where you are going and you are enjoying getting there.

And freedom most of all is mental freedom, the freedom to love yourself anyway, though you aren’t there yet, though you aren’t perfect, and cut yourself a little slack and give up on perfectionism.

But most importantly, freedom is within. In your mind, in your inner peace and your clarity. And your honesty before yourself and God.

Spontaneity

Tags

choices, commitment, freedom, inspiration, life, love, poem, poetry, romance

Love like, the day

I shot out of the ground and into your arms

A flower, a canon ball, an acorn falling

Fast and deep but slow and sweet

The first time you looked into my eyes

and said they were beautiful.

 

Can it stay spontaneous

but is it real

So many expectations

And heart-sore yearning

To see you again,

Soon, hopeful,

wanting peace.

Let the pangs of desire know they’ll be sated-

but will they abate?

Or will I become like a thistle

all cuddly and soft and rooted

forgetting my days as a wishing, but wilted dandelion

When you flew into my arms?

 

Can I love you without forgetting

mother friend muse sister mistress

The wind

can i love you in all truth

without losing my freedom?

Can i be faithful without being tied to a course,

to your course,

to a path that is not my own?

I am a river-

I don’t think damming me is wise.

Lest I overflow my banks,

leaving all devoured,

and us in tears.

 

I know you know the wind too,

that he is your intimate companion.

What do you say to him of me?

When I try to turn your face away from him, and towards me

With a song?

Will the notes please him?

Will he let you follow me a while,

though my pride would be stung

yet heart overflowing,

if,

for a change,

I followed you.

But I was not made to follow.

 

So love,

can I love you in freedom?

can i love you without shame?

can I love you without restrictions, without bounds?

not knowing when our paths will cross again?

it turns me to winter

when I don’t see your face.

 

O love, I thought this was just a passing fancy

But like everything that passes,

like everything that lives and dies,

moves and changes,

it stays.

 

Self and Love

Tags

dating, distance, freedom, life, love, philosophy, relationships, romance, travel, twenties

I hope that someday soon I’ll feel that my self love, independence, and finding my way in life wouldn’t be squelched by having a partner.

Right now, I’m afraid of any kind of compromise. I realize that so much of what I’ve done up to this point in my life has just been a delicate balance of external achievement, intrinsic motivation, and a bit of self-discovery and musings, as motivated in large part by tragedy.

Sometimes I wonder if I would cease to be creative, were I successful, materially, and fulfilled emotionally. Do I need the hole inside me in order to see God? Do I need to be dissatisfied with the present to see the possibilities?Seeing it typed out, it seems as delusion as thinking that self-hatred is the necessary condition of self-improvement, and commitment to change.

I’ve gotten so attached to a particular perfectionistic script of what love should be, who it should be like, and the stages of its unfolding. Like many other things in my life, it’s hard to let go and accept all that could be. It’s hard to give up the feeling that all my expectations and conditions and best-laid plans keep me safe, rather than the reality that they stifle and entrap me.

I wonder if it’s possible to share enough common meaning, to have enough shared symbols, with someone from a totally alien experience. I lusted for someone who saw, felt, thought the same I did, hoping that would lead to a conflict-less, unambiguous, clear, cold, exact, precise, easy relationship.  This person never showed up, and I find myself missing deeply someone I shared more experiences than words with, with a relationship based on intimacy and the present rather than a shared past or predictable future.

I find myself wondering if I was just lonely or if I really did like him, and every time there is a slight ambiguity, the tiniest break in communication, [or maybe he just has a different way of showing his feelings, which might also be a little confused] I feel like he never cared for me, could never have been serious, that I’ve driven him away, and that since I didn’t think he was the One from the first moment, it’s just a passing fancy. I think to myself, o well, he was just the first person in a long time, he opened up your heart, and it’s too soon, how could it ever work, but I still miss him. I still think that what I actually experienced trumps all those fears and speculations.

I could tell myself, I started writing poetry again because of him, and that’s enough, but I’d be lying.

So basically I’m scared shitless because love and life is/are a big giant mystery.

I don’t have a clear future plan (highly doubt that he has anything resembling a future plan), I’m still trying to figure out who I am and what I want (I don’t think he’s too keen on settling down yet), and mostly, I’m scared to death of compromise.

I’m scared of compromising a self I haven’t discovered yet, of making the same old mistakes/learning old lessons in love, and pretty much, just letting someone into my life before I know we’ll be perfect together. And other times, I just want to get it over with, give it a try, in the lean start-up mentality of failing fast, and well, cheaply- better to find out sooner than later (and risk losing the time of my precious youth with someone who wasn’t it, when I could have been gallivanting or finding the One).

Maybe love is being able to say, I don’t know but I really want to try.  And, no time with you is wasted.

And maybe that’s not really a compromise after all.

It’s scary to really love something, people and things, and really want them to happen. There’s so much potential to be disappointed, to put in a lot of work and not have things go as planned, to have things go as planned and not really enjoy them (sort of what I’m experiencing now), to make a commitment and have to stick by it (I’m a little afraid of this if only because sometimes I fear my ability to make decisions, and I don’t like making decisions in general),

Basically what it comes down to is every relationship is going to mirror one’s self esteem and reflect one’s sense of sense- If you’re standing where I am, that looks like a pretty scary thing sometimes!

Because until you’ve decided to stop yourself from beating yourself up, you won’t be able to stop someone else from doing it (and no, this dude is the gentlest person ever- ahhh). Until you trust your inner compass and live in touch with your inner knowing, every decision will be wrong and no commitment will seem right. Without living in the present, all a relationship is fighting past battles and nostalgia coupled with collective illusions of a future that may never produce itself.

Being in a relationship seems almost like doing a headstand- it’s something that you sincerely want to do, but it’s just not always possible, or you’re not always ready, or you try and you fail. And that’s okay. Maybe a relationship is the trying part of doing a headstand, and it’s not about whether you make it there, firm and steady, on the first try. Maybe a relationship is just being willing to stay on the yoga mat and give it a go, and even slipping back into child’s pose when you need a rest.

Maybe being in a relationship is really just about looking someone directly in the eyes, and really letting them see you naked.

I can’t say I probably won’t feel some fear about it, even after writing this cathartic post. I can say that I don’t think that any amount of ancient wonders, modern marvels, trappings of material success, or even babies compare to the idea of taking a journey with someone. It’s not just where you go, it’s the second pair of eyes to see it and the other person to experience things with and through. It’s a hand to hold and potentially a complainer to soothe.

Maybe you can’t really accept someone else for what they are until you’ve accepted yourself for what you are. And o, the process of holding yourself up for their acceptance (even if you don’t need it!) and wanting it, yes, actually caring about how they feel about you, even though you want to be yourself and not care at all and never be diluted by anyone else’s opinion, maybe that’s an even more enlightening process of self discovery.

And thank God there’s something out there outside the self, even I get tired of navel gazing sometimes, and you know what, the creative process is pretty painful sometimes. But that doesn’t mean it’s bad. Maybe the same is true for relationships, in their coming as well as their somewhat probable going.

Honestly I just never want to search for someone again, not only do I not want to be alone, i don’t want to choose, and I don’t want to have to say good=bye, that would be too painful.

So yeah, I’d say the fear of a messy breakup and having some emotional weight attached to something outside of my control is probably the main reason I am anxious about the possibility of a relationshpi.

I don’t need any more boxes in my life, or lines to color inside. But jeez, I would like to make a pretty picture.

And maybe I can, and that’s the charm of the relationship that I’m not sure exactly what if ever it was, and the charm of life.

So sometimes it comes about, in the course of this life, that it’s time to leave behind the hurts of the past, and live now. Facing the future, unwritten, delicious possibility, freedom to create, to destroy, to help, to hurt, to hate, and to love. And the greatest of all these freedoms is to love freely, to give freely, to hope.

The present moment is where all our freedom lies- everything else is an illusion. The stories we tell and the castles in the air we make are important, but it’s here and now and only at this moment that we can make a change, a choice, and find freedom in impermance, in our power over our lives, and our ability to give away, bit by bit, our hearts.

Namaste,

MJ

 

Freedom, and loneliness

Tags

career, dating, education, france, freedom, friends, life, loneliness, lovers, philosophy, quest, relationships

“If there was more common sense in this world, there would be less lawyers and crooks and more lovers and people like Jesus and Buddha.” Mother Teresa

I saw this quote in a stall in the Reading Terminal Market just now. I’m not sure if I’ve got it right since I couldn’t find it online and it may have been made up or misattributed. In any event, I think it’s pretty dead on.

Just stumbled across this one:

“For true success ask yourself four questions: Why? Why not? Why not me? Why n

People say that poetry and art and music are useless, but what is the point of life without them. People want to make things, do things, earn things- they so rarely want to dream things. But what is the point of life without dreams?

~

So I was at Reading Terminal Market doing what I’ve done for what’s now 3 weeks in a row. Coming up with a little routine. The first time I did it I thought of Y and how much he would have loved it.

I got some cheese fries and a wrap and a whoopie pie. Dawns on me now that we got whoopie pies the last time we saw each other.  I liked them long before that though.

So as I sat there reading Le Petit Prince and making my list of stuff to do this week ad treating myself to a nice little meal, I wondered why I was eating cheese fries. I wondered why i was there, with all those people crowded on a Sunday. I realzed that i was lonely. Not necessarily unhappy, but lonely.

And I continued to go through the motions of this routine I made for myself, the food and the books keeping me company.  Enjoying my calorie splurge meal.

I must have looked a little sad because the guy who sold me my whoopie pie asked me how i was doing. i replied” Ok, how are you?” He said, “Great, I’m alive.”

I realized milling there among all the families and friends and boyfriends and girlfriends something special. Loneliness is what turns strangers into friends and lovers. That is why he, (he being Y), asked me how I was doing everyday and why he didn’t let it be just a fling.

And loneliness is why my heart is heavy and I’m typing this in a Starbucks near but not with people. Even though I just went out and had a nice time with my best friends in my program who I have the grace to see everyday, and with whom I should now be working on a project, and even though I’m going to go to meditation class and listen with a little bit of fear at what my heart will tell me with the same people as last week.  This is why I’m so jealous of pretty much all of my close friends who are in relationships or have close circles of people in their lives. Even though a friend from a million years ago called me last night and we are good friends and I can pour my heart out to her, and my crush of over a year and the guy I would have picked out of the man store is only a text away these days and I finally heard from him that he cared for me but the distance was too great, my heart still feels heavy. I don’t know if the space in my heart is for Y, who I truly barely knew, but somehow I was less alone when he was in my life. And I miss him, and will miss him. I still hope he calls. I could call him now. Even though that would probably show it was an empty threat and all and I don’t want to force myself on him.

But maybe if I write in the subject line of the email, PS I miss you, that would be ok. And it would be a less cruel way to say goodbye. And it might make me feel a little more Christian about the whole thing. Done!

The truth is that right now, I could go anywhere and do almost anything. I’m sad about the slight loss to my freedom that these loans and this education program entails, but really I could do anything that doesn’t break my heart too much. Too bad the only way to find your path is to be on it, and to trust that you are going in the right direction, if not in the most direct way. The quest is not easy.

~

there is no number of beautiful full libraries, no amount of miles, no multitude of countries or sunsets seen or mountains climbed that will dazzle me out of loneliness.

I don’t even think there are enough hungry children in the world to feed and clothe and educate and love. Maybe that would ease it, and if I were indeed Mother Teresa I would be filled by it.  But I am not Mother Teresa, and there’s a part of my soul that is fragile and sad and vulnerable.

There’s no amount of mastery or expertise or Noble Prizes or money or genius or contributions to the heritage of the earth that can overcome this sweet, sharp aching.

I don’t know if the hole in my heart is in the shape of him, but I do know it’s there.

Of what use are wings if you have to climb the sky alone?

 

Happiness isn’t a result, it’s a way of life

Tags

freedom, goals, happiness, inspiration, life, love, motivation, positivity, relationships, wisdom

As a young child, and often into the rest of our lives, we think that happiness comes from having something, from getting the thing you want.  Happiness is not a consumption good.

As we mature a little more, maybe we hear somewhere it comes from having a purpose.  We might even hear happiness is a byproduct of when we do something meaningful. But happiness is not something we can produce.

We often think happiness comes from relationships, and having other people we love, love us back equally.

We think happiness comes from accomplishing goals and moving “forward” in life.

We try to reward and punish ourselves, not letting ourselves feel happy unless certain circumstances come into place. We use it as a carrot and stick mechanism.

But the truth is, happiness is available to us every step of the journey.  It’s not something that is a reward, or a result. It is a way of thinking, a state of mind.  There are certain characteristics of happy minds, yes (uncluttered, clear, warm, generous), and certain actions that are more conducive to happiness (acts of generosity, doing something meaningful, etc).

If happiness is in your mind, why are you looking outside yourself for it?

If happiness isn’t a result, what are you doing all that stuff for?

If happiness is the meaning of life, why is there so much sorrow and struggle and guilt along the way.

Happiness is a feeling. As such, it is ephemeral, and things will come that shake your state of mind as much as you let them. Happiness is not the meaning of life, but it attends a meaningful life.

Happiness just is.

Let the truth set you free.

Embracing Change, and Curiosity

Tags

career, freedom, heart, life, new york, Paris, philosophy, possibility, relationships, travel, young

Paris seems like another life ago, and I really don’t have anything but memories tying me there now. I’m back to really nothing tying me down, anywhere, except my family. And the set of opportunities and limitations that came with my birth as an American citizen and previous work and other experiences.  I’m thankful to say, that’s pretty much nothing.

I’m not really ready to settle down. Sometimes I feel like I should be, but for whatever reason, I’m not.  I have the rest of the program yet, and then the rest of my life. I’m pretty sad it would be unlikely and difficult to find a lasting relationship under these circumstances, it would really have to transcend all borders of time and space and uncertainty. And since I can’t see a future for myself, I don’t know if it’s possible to see a future together with someone. It’s all kind of mysterious and ethereal and full of possibility, and I like it that way. I guess I could meet someone who would make me want to do everything possible to live near him, be it in Paris or Washington, and thus narrow my range of possibilities in a way, but I don’t know if I’m actually capable of doing that. Given my experiences with my first boyfriend and seeing things, however solid, crumble, and knowing how much less opportunity to develop being myself I sort of had as a result of that kind of clingy, sometimes co-dependent relationship, I don’t know if I could do that. I don’t know if someone who really loved me and knew me would let me make my life plans around them. I think not.

I felt mad at Y, the dude in Paris, for just letting me go without shedding a tear or trying to bargain with fate.  But now I realize, I knew almost from the moment I met him and the way that he met that he was in no hurry to settle down anytime soon and I wouldn’t be able to disappoint him in that way. Plus, he’s so mentally healthy and in the moment, I didn’t feel like I could hurt him. I thought he set me free because he didn’t love me enough and I’m just not that lovable, but the truth is that he set me free because he cared for me and because there were no chains to untie. I’m a free thing, a wild thing, a woman who knows she doesn’t need a man, who walked away from a dedicated, well-off guy at 19 who would have taken care of me for the rest of my life.  Or not, as the events in his life that followed our breakup would have it, but it was a pretty sure thing and his wonderful family also had the dough.

Thank you, Y.  Not for setting me free, but for making me accept and love my freedom.

I had a dream about New York last night. Probably from watching too much How I Met Your Mother, and how excited Y was over it, and yeah, how impressive it was to go there for New Year’s when I’d gotten used to the dimensions of Paris.

Long story short, I want to go to Paris, and I do think its true that the window may not exactly close on living there in a few years, but I don’t think it will ever be more open, nor life any more wide open, than it is now. But if it doesn’t work out, I will be happy somewhere else.  The life I could have lived if I stayed there was a fine one, but this one I’m actually living is better, and I’m just not ready to settle down. No amount of love for a city or man will change that, not even giving my little cousin a bath and knowing I want a family of my own so much. Now is not the time (which I already knew) and which I already created this situation by enrolling in grad school.

I am listening to my heart. My heart loved Paris and my situation there, but my heart also knows life is ephemeral and things change. My heart says, it’s not my feelings that change but what your mind wants to make of them and cling to that changes. My heart says, be free, and don’t be ashamed. My heart says, you’ll be happy here.

~

Y’s favorite song is, “We are young…

 

Healing, Chutzpah, and Higher Purpose with frequent allusions to Django Unchained

Tags

career, dating, django, film, freedom, friends, inspiration, life, love, movie, philosophy, purpose, quest, relationships, slavery, subversion

I used to think love was all about having similar movie tastes, similar sensibilities, liking the same seasons. Maybe liking what you saw, or what you envisioned, of the other’s interior world.

Now, I’m not so sure, but I know that “kindred spirit,” feeling “understood,” and wanting someone to comply to my subliminal scripts of how love should be, and taking their one remark on a subject of interest to me as a sign of deep character and being my ame-soeur soul sister is not really such a certainty. If anything, I remember these milemakers on the rushing into love thing with unease from the pit of my stomach. From there, hindsight gets 20/20 but where the answers aren’t staring me in the face, the questions still linger, and beckon, and threaten to draw me in and lose the peace of mind that time and distance and even sometimes distraction have brought. Somehow though, those questions about why didn’t it work out and why him and why me and why not me just circle around in my head and twinge when the weather gets a certain way. Weather being my internal climate which does get a bit drizzling and damp from time to time, and my heart just doesn’t want to get warm.  It’s the kidn fo whether and what if and why that makes you just want to stay out in the rain cause there’s no point and some part of you is so tired, too exhausting to find a way in away from the cold.  Unfortunately, there’s – also with tie the chill of cynicism, that asks what’s the point of feeling better now if you’re just going to hurt again later, why not skip the whole hope part and go back to distress, go back to paralysis.

But I just watched Django, so I’m not really in the pity party mood, thank goodness.

I’m also realizing that all these little control mechanisms I have in place- like waiting for perfection, blaming myself for everything that goes wrong and trying to be mediocre/risk aversion- are related to wanting to vindicate my past somehow. Like finding someone to love me will justify everyttime someone else didn’t, or having to find someway to jsutify how I failed at finding a regualr career job after my college graduation and needing to find someone to justify that’s happened to me as “career exploration,” because otherwise I’m just a lost slacker. myabe I was a little bit before, but now hope not!

So the reason for all this reflection comes from realizing how pretty much all dram a and difficult feelings I experience in my current dating/relationship are related to anxieties I developed mostly through previous “failures.” Thankfully, the dude seems to pass, in his own time, with flying colors each time in hia own way.

I think the most difficult thing for people to do is really love someone, a real person, and not an image you’ve created.  If it’s a real person, there’s always emotional risk, and if they are a real person, you probably will be disappointed sometimes. No matter how much love is between the two parties.

Right now is one of those times for me. My dude is supposed to take the train over and hang out with my family and me today, but his American phone seems not to be in service and I’m annoyed we didn’t plan the details earlier.  I don’t think it is a conscious oversight on his part, but it does make me feel slighted.  On the other hand, he’s talked to me pretty much everyday, and I don’t think he’s consciously trying to make life difficult, he just doesn’t seem to see a need to plan in advance, even for his own long awaited trip to America.

~

Sometimes I feel like it takes an enormous amount of chutzpah to do anything meaningfulin this world. Among which, love and be loved and have a fulfilling career. Who are you to dare to follow your dreams? Who are you to demand to be treated well in spite of all your imperfections?

And, who are you to dpeart from society’s script of what you are supposed to want, what you are supposed to be, what you should like and act like to get it? Who are you not to live in whiny lingering adolescent melancholy? Who are you to rise above your circumstances, above your flaws, above what other people see and know and want for you?

Who are you to be the one in ten thousand that, like Django, does something magnifcent with the freedom that is inalienable to us in this life? Who are you to make the most of, then to actually transform your own circumstances? Who are you to have a dream, to have something burning in your soul beyond survival, prestige, status, money, fame, and thrills?

~

The most important thing I learned from Django is the neccessity of a higher purpose to give meaning to life. I’d argue that despite all his hardships and the injustice and cruelty he suffered, his life was more transcendent and even more happy to the Southern gentleman living lives of leisure.  They had the wherewithal to attend to their every whim and idly inconsequentially amuse themselves, but they give the impression of delusion, not happiness. The exquisite cruelty and exquisite luxury have nothing to Django’s heroism and quest.

Now, I personally would prefer my quest not to be quite so human rights abusive and physically and emotionally demanding as Django’s. But goodness, I don’t think you can know real happiness unless you are on one, or have had one. It’s not the journey, it’s the destination. And along the way, when you become your own master and go after your personal happiness, you lift others up alongside you.

Towards the end of the movie, Django finds a way to talk himself out of slavery again and ends up freeing a chain gang and bringing down a plantation along the way to saving his wife.  He doesn’t forget about the suffering of others and wanting to bring justice to the world as he reunites himself with his wife and frees her.

But the most telling scene in the entire movie is this: Django leaves the door open where the slaves are imprisoned open. He doesn’t tell them where to go, what to do, or give them any advice, he rushes to save his wife, his personal dream. They watch him gallop off, a free black man on a horse who killed his captors in search of his own happiness.

He leaves the door open, and when faced with our freedom, it can be unclear to do next.

But we certainly owe it to ourselves to do something, the thing that will take us through hell and back.  In freeing our own most heartfelt desire, we also free others in one of the most important ways: showing them what it looks like, changing the image in their heads.  When you look at yourself, you don’t see a former slave, but a freeman and all the possibilities therein.

Thank you, Django.  Definitely gave me a lot of inspiration for my own personal quest and showed me anything is possible.

Best,

MJ