From stoicism to free expression. . .a clue to greater societal ills

Yesterday I had a breakfast meeting with a professional contact I get along with really well on a personal level. Our business meetings often entail philosophical conversations, and we've gotten to know each other pretty well.  So, he felt comfortable to ask me if my divorce was an inevitable result of my decision to become a happy person.  I told him that in choosing to do the things that made me happy I made my spouse mad on a daily basis, which is what led to me leaving.  He was like, "you kicked him to the curb, then, huh?" I don't remember what I said, but the look on my face must have told him something.  He apologized, and I said, "yeah, that was a painful time."

I used to minimize or deny my feelings when people noticed them in my facial or bodily expression.  I used to think, "Geez, I can't hide anything!  My face gives it away!"

Now I realize I have been rather stoic for most of my life, even though I am a passionately emotional person.  I learned it was better to hide how I was feeling as it wouldn't be honored and accepted by those around me.  I don't mean to blame those around me, though.  Our society is broken, so we don't know how to deal with emotions - they are still seen as a sign something "bad" is happening.  When someone is "upset" it is a big controversy, something must be done to sooth (ie fix) them.  It is a very masculine mindset, in my opinion - I feel like that is the template for how men react to emotion, especially emotion in women.  It is a sign of a problem that must be made right by the heroic man.  there is nothing wrong with that - it is quite nice when in balance with a value of emotion, sensitivity and letting things be as they are.  This is the harmony our society needs to find.

Me, in a nutshell.

The Indonesian ambassador walked up to the group I was standing with after his lecture. I had asked the question "What is the language of business now in Indonesia?" He had answered that it was both English and Chinese now, but that his kids were learning Spanish, also.  So. . .he came right up to me, shook my hand, and I told him I enjoyed his lecture. . . .he then asked me what languages I speak.  I am quite rusty but, I said, confidently, I speak Italian, French and Arabic.  I told him that I had trouble learning a foreign language until I got engaged with Arabic in high school, and then I reconnected with my Italian heritage by learning Italian.  

My life in a nutshell, right there, oversimplified, altered for public consumption, but somewhat accurate.  

Quest update. . .beautiful blond dude

Almost a year ago I made a birthday wish.  It hasn't quite been fulfilled, unfortunately.  But I feel good about what I'm learning many things related to my quest for a life partner:

A) I am actually scared of commitment.
B) Sharing my true thoughts and feelings is much harder than I thought, and I am re-learning how to "be myself" with others.

There should be a "C" but I don't want this to be long.

Oh! "C" is that I love dating and interacting with men and would like to explore that much more, even if I feel cheesy for following the advice of dating gurus.  I am afraid someone will call me out one day: "That was a Cherry Norris move!"  How embarrassing (blush, blush, blush).

So. . .anyway, tonight I was walking down the street, thinking about how I couldn't wait to try my latest advice: look at a guy you find attractive in the eye and smile for six seconds.  OK, sounds easy, but for a recovering stoic, it's hard.

Lo and behold, walking up the sidewalk with grocery bag in hand, a beautiful blond man sauntered up.  His long torso was lanky, and his handsome face drew me to it.  Normally, I would not have looked him in the face at all, feeling awkward about taking a good look at someone in public. He was already getting a good look at me, though. Our eyes locked for a good second as we passed each other.

Damn! I thought.  If only I would have smiled, maybe he would have stopped.  You're supposed to make a man feel "safe" to approach.  I literally learn from these "texts" on dating one little bit at a time.  I couldn't do the eye contact AND smile.  That's how slow I am at this.  Sigh.

But it's fun, and he was hot.

Baby says "Hi" and "Bye" - Mother doesn't like it

A little baby yelled "Hi" at me when I was walking. At first I don't know it was to me so I didn't say anything. As I got closer he said "hi" again and again, extending it out to "Haaaaaaaaaai!" I did my best kid wave, hand wide open, big motions of it back and forth, and said "Hi!"

Then, he wanted to tell me something.  The older kids, perhaps his brothers, held back but he started walking down his front steps toward me.  He had one of those big plastic party microphones in his hand.  His Mom wasn't happy about it, and she angrily pulled him back.  So, I said "I gotta go! Bye"  He said "Baaaaaayeeee" several times as I walked away, and I kept responding "Bye!"

How cute.  There were men on the steps of the building next door just laughing.  The mother, however,  wouldn't look me in the eye.

I don't think she liked me.

Well, I wouldn't like me either if I was stuck with three kids and toil, when I'd rather be walking down the street care-free.

Facebook, a great opportunity for gossips

I got a call from a distressed colleague in my PhD program.  First thing she asked was "who is ______?", referring to my facebook post of a photo of myself with my friend's daughter.  After I answered that she is my friend's daughter, and tried to find out what was so significant about it to her that she needed to call and ask.  She was like "people might think. . ." I was like, "What?" "are people talking about that?" She was like, "no, no one said anything, but people might not understand."  I don't know what she was getting at, what sort of 'scandal' she might be imagining.

Jesus.

Good to know that I have a stalker on facebook.  This is not the first item from my facebook page she has asked about, clearly having gone over it with a fine-toothed comb.

Trying to think loving thoughts. . . since I decided to become a happy person, there has been an unexpected side-effect.  I have guts, and I feel anger and judgment as quickly as they come up.  I confront, I intimidate.  She changed the topic quickly.  To herself, of course.  She is in need of a friend.  I need to focus on that, and not damage my own state of being by judging and being angry.

At the end of the conversation, I asked again, what did you mean when you asked about the photo of my friend's daughter. she was apologetic: "Oh nothing! Just that people might think it's your relative." OK, so clearly now she's embarrassed about whatever it was she was thinking.  nice.

Gossip, and even gossipy thinking, about my life is most unwelcome.

You can dance if you want to. . .

A friend of mine reiterated that he wants me to visit him, and I would be welcome to stay. He and his wife live in California and are really fun to spend time with. Plus he and I do similar work and come up with exciting ideas. He was saying he is engaged in his project on American jazz and the Middle Eastern influences on it. I am also stoked to do more with music, so I told him about Afghan teahouse and popular music I love and that I really want to know more about dance. I actually didn't have any plans in my mind until that moment to do research on dance, but when I said it, it was as though the idea had already been there in my mind. Dance brings together my spiritual, emotional and physical interests. Now adding intellectual interest makes it so fitting for "where I am at.". He was like "It's happening right here!" telling me about Adghan and other immigrant dance groups in his area. This is great because learning about movement traditions from West Asia , Turkey and North Africa, with all their commonalities and differences, would really help me in my teaching about those areas.

Dance. So simple. So powerful in its ability to clarify a seemingly complex reality.

"You can dance if you want to. You can leave your friends behind. Cuz your friends don't dance and if they don't dance, well they're no friends of mine. . ."(Men Without Hats)

Disagreement and political differences . . . are OK

"Well, Bill Cosby says that African Americans think that school is for 'whitey.'" she said in response.  I had just made the statement that I am neither democrat nor republican because neither one focus on what really matters, which is structural inequity.

I hadn't mentioned race as a part of my stance on that.  Obviously, from her response, she knew that I was referring to inequities that are consistent with the state of white dominance in our society.

The African American man at the booth behind us got up soon after that and made a point to look at her disapprovingly before he left.  She was oblivious.

How embarrassing.

Yet, this lady has dedicated a considerable part of her very long life (she's 89) toward equality and cultural understanding, through activities with her church and other community organizations.  She functions from a paradigm of community which is based on Christian ethics of charity, and humanitistic ethics of equality.  This paradigm assumes an equal playing field.  It assumes the dominance of WASP values as everyone's values.  It assumes that everyone should trust her and her community.  She is well-intentioned, but these assumptions create blocks to understanding.

Our friend who is a South Asian Muslim was also nodding her head in agreement as she made the Bill Cosby statement.  I couldn't get a word in edge-wise because the lady wanted to continue with a story about her charity work with Mexican immigrants, peppered with comments about how they "don't follow the rules" and "they lie".  Her church helped a Mexican neighborhood with some building projects and a food kitchen, however, so I'm not going to argue with that.

It's frustrating when people only see what they want to see.  However, trying to convince someone of your differing point of view is very tiring, and. . .pointless.  A person needs to feel invested in their own opinion, not that of someone else.

Odd bedfellows

"Warning: Disturbing Images Ahead" the sign said.  Obviously put there to draw people into their spectacle more than to really warn them about it.

I was upset by the size and prominence of their "show" (they had a stage set up and huge signage showing aborted fetuses), right in the center of the main green on campus (Oval).  When I saw a kid near it with pamphlets in his hands - and I mean kid, like 10-12 years old - I thought they might've put him up to it.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one to have thought that.  No sooner had I gotten "No Thanks" out of my mouth, than he said: "It's not about them!"

I kept walking.  I was confused.  His items not being about them in no way made me more curious to know what would be in them.  Later I heard there was a right to carry concealed weapons rally next to the anti-abortion rally.

Odd bedfellows. Why do we choose the issues to focus on that we do? Why does a country choose certain issues?

Getting together. . .an exercise in not being needy.

Yesterday I had dinner with a friend.  We had spent a few weeks getting our schedules coordinated. With my work and school life, planning ahead can be challenging.

I wanted to be chill, and let him call me first.  But I got another offer, so I wanted to make sure this dinner thing was happening.  I called him around five.  He was at work and it sounded like I had interrupted him.  I was like, are we on for dinner?  He was like, yeah, let's do this thing.

OK. It sounded like he had just decided then, which I didn't like.  But I called and interrupted him at work, and generally showed a lack of faith about his word; i.e., neediness. I suppose I should have had more faith, and known that he would eventually call to let me know when/how we were going to get together.  I guess once you've been stood up in the past, though, it's hard not to let those thoughts go through your mind.  I suppose I need to ask from now on - will you call me just before picking me up/meeting me? How much before? I would like to know by mid-day when/where we're going to get together. 

That's what a girl with boundaries would do. 

Then, he didn't show up till eight, when he had said to expect him at 7:30.  I don't like to be strict about punctuality, but it was not fun waiting, not knowing what was going on.  He said he had been panicked, calling me but I wasn't answering.  Which was true - I hadn't received his calls because reception was poor.

We then had a nice dinner, and it was good to catch up. Getting together can be tough, though. . a stressful activity in itself - no wonder so many women are like, "Yuck! I hate dating."  Then we're told our "neediness" is causing the male behavior. Which, it is!  But that can be a hard pill to swallow (jagged little pill).  Why does the responsibility always seem to fall on us?

Getting out of contracts. . .the simple (but not easy) way.

I finally sent the email off. The one to set me free from a very unhealthy relationship. I was cordial enough that he couldn't retaliate, firm enough that he knows he's not going to get anywhere with further interaction.

I had a stomach ache this morning before I sent it, no doubt because unconsciously I knew I would be sending that email today, which my boss and I drafted yesterday. It was a business relationship (in which the feelings got personal, particularly on his side).

I basically paid him to go away. I said we would pay him half of the amount of the PO in order, even though he hadn't completed the job, to end the project. Sort of the same thing that happened when I got a divorce.  I took whatever terms my ex-husband offered. . to expedite my freedom.  

In our culture the one who wants out of the contract has the "lower hand," so to speak.  Remember that powerful truth. Yet, there would be a lot of impact to our greater society if we valued letting someone out of a contract gracefully.  Particularly, if we recognize it is no longer meeting their needs.

Yet being willing to let go of anything allows you freedom regardless, so no need to keep score.

Just let go.

Just let go.

Just let go.