A New Start, Again - Part 1

Over the course of the last two years, I have made numerous new starts. When I moved from Seattle almost exactly two years ago, I went in search of having my faith restored in humanity and a bit more sanity in my own mind. That search took me many places. I traveled the most of the US and popped into a couple of foreign countries. I traveled by plane, train, boat, car, bus, bike and my own legs. I slept on couches, beds, sidewalks, beaches and in cars. I met people from every single walk of life. My quest for hope restored was rewarded quite early on. It was restored primarily in small towns. These towns are without a doubt the backbone of our wonderful country.

I arrived in a picturesque small harbor town in Maine just a few weeks after I left Seattle. That marvelous little corner of the world is where the majority of my hope was restored (see 2012 blog entries). It didn't take me long to find friends who opened their arms and homes to me without any reservations. Well, if they had reservations, they never showed them. I spent six months with the most genuine, kind and generous folks anyone could hope to encounter. Most nights were spent as a group laughing, drinking and listening to our favorite musicians on vinyl. Life was slow paced, conversations were never rushed and as days passed, I aspired to return the endless kindness I received to each new person I met. However, as the days did pass, I realized Maine wasn't the end for me (though I would love to go back and live there someday). There was more waiting for me and I knew it.

Life is more than curious and from Maine I went on a series of adventures. On one of these adventures I was riding my bike from Washington, down the West Coast with no actual destination, aside from somewhere warm. One day, as I rode down highway 101 through the vast redwoods forest, with the waves of the salty ocean crashing on the beaches next to me, the thought of Austin, Texas and farming came to mind. As soon as I began considering, I made the decision that that was where I wanted to go and somehow needed to be. And soon enough, after a few more adventures, I found myself on the most spectacular farm just outside of Austin.

The Simmons family (who owned and operated the farm) were honestly some of the purest souls I have met to date. Their kindness and generosity is unmatched. I was fortunate to see a family exist in true love, even in the midst of very different views on life. The one thing they all did agree on was that love is reserved for all, joy is essential, food should be both delicious and plentiful and life is valuable. As I write this, I am remised because I feel my writing skills lack, as I don’t think I can convey in words the love I saw (and experienced) and the wisdom that was shared with me by these magnanimous folks.

The wisdom shared was not just wisdom about how to effectively grow healthy, organic foods (though there was plenty of that!), but I gleaned much wisdom about life and love. It wasn't something they ever preached, as they are far too humble to do such things, rather it was in day to day interactions. Interactions they had with me, interactions they had with each other and interactions they had with those they sold their delicious food to. If someone failed around them, they didn't rub it in their face; they didn't gossip behind their back; they didn't hold it against them in the future. They took it in stride, acknowledged the failure and taught with grace how to move forward. 

I received this grace when I spent a part of a morning harvesting radishes that were overripe.  Of course this is a simple example, but the response was powerful. I had wasted valuable time on harvest day (our busiest day where time efficiency is key). I could have been mocked for it (as I've been mocked for far less mistakes) or made an example of, but instead it was just brushed over, required no penance and I was showed, plainly, what my mistake was. Again, a simple example, but even in that, grace abounded. It was the daily reactions to things like that that made an overarching impact on me (and I've no doubt, others). When you live a life where you let the little things go and teach with grace how to move forward, it translates into all of the bigger things in life. For me, when I am gifted with this kindness, I recognize that that is how I should be living. It's a valuable lesson that I can be too quick to forget.

In our culture we've gained more anonymity than we know what to do with. It is all too easy to treat people as less than they are. We are lacking a social accountability. I believe this is because of technology and massive populations. The mean, snide or judgmental comment you leave is easy to do when you don’t have to say it aloud to the person and then watch how it affects them the rest of the day or week or month, or in some cases, the rest of their life. Each person is living a life you know nothing about, and you know nothing about it because you haven’t made the effort to know what’s going on in a persons life. Of course I don’t think one needs to know the inter-workings of every individual they cross paths with. My point is, if you don’t know the inter-workings, you don’t have right to negative commentary. And if you did know the details, you would (one would hope) prefer not to say negative things because you’re more empathetic than that.

The virtue is old: treat others as you would want to be treated. Yet this is a virtue that seems to be getting lost more and more in our world as each day passes. Not all is lost though, because I've seen the kindness and compassion in action, it still exists in pockets and I believe those pockets of people are what will be our proverbial saving grace. So long as we're willing to emulate these extraordinary people who teach freely without knowing it, we can gain back our integrity and pass it on to the following generations.

Hmm… I began this entry to tell the tale of how I’m living in Georgia with the man I plan to spend the rest of my life with, but it seems I took a different direction once I hit on my galvanizing farming friends in Texas. It would seem my fingers wander with my mind as I write. Alas, I shall save the rest of that story for my next entry.

Until then…

When a Serial Dater Chooses Monogamy

It's no secret, I haven't been one to seek or prefer monogamy for ... well, a long while. The few actual relationships I have had I more fell into than chose. That being said, when I was in relationships I was always monogamous and gave, for better or worse, all that I had. When the last relationship I was in ended badly, it left me with something similar to the taste of bleach in my mouth (and much fear in my heart). I went from R the girlfriend, to R the wild card. This was neither good or bad, it was simply a thing. Something I chose to do and just as I gave my everything to the relationships I had been in, I gave my everything to singledom.

The shenanigans that ensued from this lifestyle choice resulted in many a tellable tale. I knew how to have a very good time and my friends and anyone within eye or earshot was well aware of this. One of my more favorite games (if you will) was to walk into a bar and point to the most appealing suitor and go for it. Without fail, it worked every time. Every. Time. You can imagine what that does to a persons confidence. And when you walk with confidence, you can accomplish pretty much anything (or anyone) you set your sights on. New town, city or bar, same town, city or bar, no problem. I would gladly jump into any new situation and thrive in it. Scale the bar to explore the rooftop in dress boots and a tutu, hell yes! Dress up in costumes for no reason and razor scoot around town at all hours of the day and night, why the heck not?! Walk into (or out of) a bar and get strangers to come back to the resort, party or campgrounds to party with us, I'm on it! Dole out special goodies to friends and strangers and watch what unfolds, oh yeah, most definitely! Climb a tree in a party dress, hell yeah! Dress up and dance for 12 hours on rooftops, count me in! Take whatever someone put in my hand and consume it, done.

Needless to say, I created a very distinct persona. It pleased me that those around me knew and expected me to be up for quite literally anything. To be someone whom people always expected the unexpected from was a blast and I loved every minute of it. In the midst of all of this mayhem, as you can imagine, I met and dated many a fellow. I don't mean I had relationships with many a fellow, I mean I dated. I loved going on a different date multiple times a week. And the dates I went on! They ranged from comically horrifying to movie montage perfection. I was a very lucky lady and though I may not have wanted any future with any of these fellows, I appreciated each encounter, no matter how vapid or worthwhile. Because every date meant another story and I collect stories like a hoarder collects garbage.

Enter monogamy.

This has thrown many people for a rather unexpected loop. Which, for me is rather comical because if you know me, you know by now to expect the unexpected. But this is not the unexpected people want from the wild card. About a year ago I wrote about how I'd been wondering if "my hobby (serial dating) had become my vocation?" Not a "plaguing thought", but certainly something I had begun to wonder about as I spent long days and nights alone working on a rural farm in Texas. I wondered "Could I exist in a happy, healthy, long term relationship if I tried? If after I share those first moments and someone asks me to stay and not go, would I? Could I? Could I open that door back up and walk through it? If I could, would boredom and cynicism boil up quickly and destroy the potential of anything of true substance?" At the time the answer was most definitely NO! But as someone who loves growing, evolving and learning, it was in the back of my mind on each date I went on. The desire for short term began fading one day and soon it was less and less, though I continued to date around.

Then it happened. Someone asked me for more. Someone said "choose me". And with a great deal of consideration, weighing the pros and cons and being logical (or maybe wholly illogical), I chose him. I acknowledged that I had been allowing fear to rule that portion of my life. Yes, I had been having fun. Yes, I had enjoyed every non-committal date. I had no fear to jump into any new situation, but only so long as that situation was brief and came with a quick exit. Fear fueled every short term romance. Protecting my heart had become my full time job. When I acknowledge that and the choice was directly in front of me, well, choosing monogamy was easy. When you say "screw fear!" the choice for personal happiness and love is easy. When someone looks you in the eye and without a word you know that they know you are more than you have become, well, swoon. When someone who has heard of the aforementioned tales on an almost daily basis and loves you because in the midst of all of those tales, they have seen your true self and love you more with each passing day, you have to take a chance on that.

Not just monogamy, but partnership feels good. It feels damn good. Life should always be about growth. Stagnation is death. Fear of change is weak. And I am not weak. I am mighty. I love long, deep and hard. Monogamy is not the death of me, staying the same and not taking a risk on love would be. My behaviors have changed and this is a hard pill for some to swallow, but I don't make life decisions for others, I make them for myself. I am who I am, but I want to be more, do more and am crazy out of my mind excited to partner with someone who wants me to be and do more. Shit's getting real, are you scared? I'm not! Screw fear!

facebook?

About two years ago, I deleted my Facebook account. I had grown weary of watching drama unfold via a computer screen. Reading the opinions and statements of people that I could guarantee would never be spoken by these people in face to face interactions and constantly denying friend requests from people I would not consider friends. After deleting my account, I never once regretted it. And I think that says a lot. It was really more of a relief to be outside of it all. How and why had a website taken over so much of my life? Why did I believe my online presence was so important? In my mind I thought "Oh, people far away will want to see what I'm doing." "There is no other way I'd stay in contact with such and such." "The pictures, what will I do without the pictures!?" 

The reality was, when I deleted my Facebook life, some close friends cared, but the rest of the world? No fucks did they give. The world kept turning. My social life suffered naught. The important people used phone calls, Skype, emails and text messages to keep in touch. And that was awesome. It forced certain friendships to develop in different ways and other friendships to fall away. No regrets. Last month I got a writing gig for an online magazine (check it out!) and the editor asked if I would open a new Facebook account. She would use Facebook as a forum to communicate with all of the writers at the same time. Also, an online presence is important for aspiring writers, artists, etc.

I agreed. At first I was going to use it solely for magazine communications, but then I thought "...all or nothing!" and I went for it. I began clicking every friend suggestion that was put before me. In a few days over 300 people from every life I have lived reappeared. There was a bit of shell shock. People whom I hadn't been "friends" with before I deleted my account, I now allowed. Ha. All or nothing! Lives spilling onto the internets for all to see. Terrifying. I was excited though. So much to catch up on - so many people to rediscover! 

And yet, I was fairly disappointed. Sure, there were some it was fun to find that have done/are doing exciting and adventurous things. But the majority were the saddest carbon copies of each other. Oh look, I got married! Oh look, I had a kid! Oh look, I had another kid! Here's a picture of my kid! And another one! And another one! ... Don't get me wrong, I love a cute kid, but people, nature designed kids to be cute. I'll be impressed when they're 20, aren't fuck ups and are contributing to society. Until then, one picture a month is more than enough. Also, get a hobby! Stop aspiring to be the exact same as all of the other terribly lame people and do something awesome! Take all those spare moments you use your damn Facebook and that adorable kid and show them what being a great person looks like. Volunteer somewhere. Visit old people and let them love on your child. Spend a few bucks and buy a coffee for a stranger or give it to someone buying gas. 

But I digress, and give you my conclusion about Facebook after a month of being back: 
1- It is fun to be back in contact with a handful of people I otherwise wouldn't be.
2 - It is not fun to watch stay at home moms use it to circle jerk each other "omg! Your kids are so cute!" "Omg! Thax! So are yours!" - again I say, get a hobby.
3 - Teenagers are vile and need some serious parenting and social network monitoring.
4 - The majority of those whom I am actually curious about and/or are doing anything noteworthy, well, they're rarely posting on Facebook.
5 - The cool kids all got fat or weird or boring or the wonderful trifecta of all three. And that pleases me and reaffirms every move I've made in life that has brought me to where I am today.

Cheers, Facebook! You are keeping me entertained and I'm okay with it.