Category Life

The fluidity of change…

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

Everyone has the capacity to change. Everyone has the inherent will to do better. It’s the motivation factor that trips us all up.

Do I really want to change or am I just saying this because its what people want to hear?

I’m sorry.

I won’t do that again.

I learned my lesson.

Mere words. Without conviction, determination, and drive, these words, hammered into the human engine compartment are meaningless and just fill uncomfortable silences.

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Meaningless words fill our heads all the time. Okay, that was an awkward moment…what can I say to ease the tension? What trite quip can I toss out to bridge the gap? Sometimes, it’s better to suffer the silence, to feast on the uncertainty until our bellies ache and we are forced to seek relief.

And now, we get to the CHANGE chapter in life.

What I Have Learned From My Mistakes…

Am I going to invest all I have in changing my habitual patterns? Am I going to live up to my mantra of Say What You Mean, Mean What You Say?  Honestly, I am trying. It’s hard. I absolutely want to view change as a river that flows from my heart to my brain and out through my feet and hands with the kindest of intentions. I want that!

When I was a child I remember my father saying something to the effect of: “I don’t make mistakes. Everything I’ve done, I meant to do it so it wasn’t a mistake.” And, at the time, I thought it was just his way of getting around having to say he was sorry for being abusive but now I see that he truly thought he was right and everyone else was wrong. Changing anything about himself was never a consideration. To my father, “change” was for the weak, the godless, the ignorant.  Now, I realize I was none of those things and he feared the day when I would come to this conclusion and rise up. And, rise up I did.

Why People Have Such A Hard Time Changing

Whats so awful about change anyway? Why is it so maligned, so rejected, so ridiculed?

In thinking back, I can now see a clear picture of how I have always been seeking change.  I wanted to change my home life, my parents, my relationship with my siblings, my looks, my way of thinking…change it all! If I could just change then maybe those beating me down would finally love me. God, how pathetic right? Except, that version of “change” was not realistic because I was seeking to change into a person that I thought these other unchangeables wanted me to be. In hindsight, I suppose I was really just looking for approval and never needed to change for these people at all. Truth right there!

Today, I view true CHANGE as a breath of fresh air, a new way of looking at life and not negative at all. It IS fluid and it does move and bend and grow with time, just like me. I am working on moving the obstacles out of my path, releasing the barriers that have kept me stuck in the past. I am also working on a new mantra because saying what I mean and meaning what I say is no longer effective. Now…..

Everything will work out to my advantage…

Everything will work out to my advantage…

Everything will work out to my advantage…

It will because I deserve this, I earned it and I worked hard for the life of purpose that I am living now. No one can take it away from me.

Love, Light, and Peace

Reverie

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Trumped Toxicity…

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

I have been thinking about this for a long while now. Ever since a divisive, narcissistic, dour faced bowel movement slithered into the White House.

Cheeseburger(s)

Diet Coke

Tweet

Scowl

Tweet

Try to have a bowel movement

Fail

Scowl

Tweet, Tweet, Tweet

People that I know very well voted for this slug of a human being. They longed for “change” or so they claimed but my intuition tells me that what they were really looking for was a reason to express their true nature.

Now is the era of Vile Honesty, which seems so ironic since the bird of Fake News gets tossed in the air to fly at anyone or anything deemed questioning or skeptical. Always question the intentions of everyone and everything! That’s my stance anyway.

Genuine honesty, concern mixed with constructive criticism and thinking before speaking are all becoming the urban legends of modern life. Say what you want, when you want, consequences be damned, is now the unofficial motto of the American experience.

We’re living in the era of ‘Peak Asshole’: Here’s how to deal with all those jerks

In the past I emplored people to say what they mean and mean what they say. This cannot be translated to, “say any mean thing you want and back it up with as many mean actions as you can.” And to those who attempt to attach this bastardized definition to my words as a way to justify shitty behavior; you will never find acceptance or peace.

For many decades the dark thoughts, beliefs and intentions of the insecure have been itching for release. If that isn’t apparent to reasonable folks then troubled times may be picking up the mantle of “most unwelcome houseguest” and trouble will stick with us for the foreseable future.

Applying my own personal experience to this theory I can pick out some glaring examples:

1. Seeing family members making seriously poor financial choices and when the bottom finally falls out these “choices” suddenly become everyone else’s fault. Personal responsibility no longer exists.

2. Hearing these same people rant and rave about how they have been wronged yet hearing no hint of accepting any blame for their role in the long playing shit show.

3. And finally, when the usual targets of anger are no longer available that inner, unreleased visciousness gets shifted to another target. Me.

And, in any other decade I might have fought fire with a massive bonfire of my own but now? I just don’t care anymore. That’s not to say that old habits don’t flare up and if you read the initial post about family sociopathy you will see that I briefly fell into the trap. I did that, I learned from it and now I am closing the door on further malicious interactions that do nothing other than allowing petty axe grinders to flourish.

Face it people, when the 24/7 news cycle is filled with both praise for and horror over the blatantly racist, sexist, homophobic and devisive personal beliefs of a reality tv hack turned politician is it really too hard to believe that other nasties wouldn’t see it as a sign that its okay for them to come out from under their rock too?

Welcome to the age of attack first and listen never. It’s going to be a long, dirty trip.

A Word From The Moderator:

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

Here at In the Land of Reverie we love followers. We appreciate thoughtful comments. At this time only comments that specifically reference a post or this site will be approved.

If you feel your comment has been removed or marked as spam unfairly then you will have the option to address your concern with the author but there is a caveat. If you are a troll or a disgruntled family member then the response you receive may be something like this:

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As the Moderator I have no control over how Reverie wishes to respond (or not respond) to trolling or antagonistic comments. For the sake of humanity and common sense please be thoughtful, concise and truly interested in connecting rather than inciting.

We all need a break

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

Well, it’s been a few days since the Big Blow Up.  How do I feel now?

I feel okay.

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At first, it was a sense of shock at having a family member lash out at my daughter online over her stance on gun control and the short-sighted blame game both sides engage in. Then it was irritation that they moved on to heap scorn upon the thoughtful words of the man I love. But, when the real story revealed itself, the continuation of a gripe started months before and long-held resentment, it became clear that whatever relationship we may have had is now almost certainly irrevocably broken.

Can it be fixed?

I don’t know.

Am I going to apologize?

I did apologize to the people that I owed an apology to.

To those that aren’t owed one?

Nope!

That may sound harsh and cold but you know what? I have never really felt like I was a part of this family unit so whether I acquiesce and roll over for these DNA bullies or not it still won’t matter much. Their resentment will remain and I can do nothing to change their minds.

I could never quite put my finger on what it was that set me apart from them and that is not to say that I feel better than them on any level. I just feel different.  Maybe it was that I learned to mistrust people at an early age and the teachers of that lesson were other members of my own family. Maybe it was just some difference of heart that I inherited but they did not.

As time goes on the real outcome of this reality check will make itself known but for the time being, I will just keep breathing, keep improving and keep living my life. I know who I am and take responsibility for the mistakes I have made. I will not, however, take responsibility for the mistakes, misunderstandings, and misery of others. And with this declaration, I accept what the future holds for me and wish them peace.

Elle

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The family that sociopaths together…

Elle Reverie 4 Comments

Today I came to the resolute conclusion that I come from a seriously fucked up family. I knew we were dysfunctional and broken but today we crossed the line and became a scuffed, tarnished menagerie of shame, abuse, excuses and crippling paranoia. Whispers behind every back and unspoken resentment crammed into every available mind space.

At first, all the blame for our personal pain was assigned to our abusive parents and, for myself, the brother who targeted me for molestation from the ages of 9-13. I didn’t talk about any of it publicly until recently and this was only out of solidarity to, and support of, other family members who were also molested by additional male members of this religion stamped clan. One of those abusers is dead but another, mine, is still very much alive and apparently on a “rehabilitation tour” with family members he once had no real contact with for years. It’s a lot to follow, I know, but this is the sick diagram of my past. I’m still figuring it out myself.

Trust is a rarity amongst the shame controlled and so it was brought to my attention that my sister and I never really go below the surface with one another. This tidbit of unusual insight was attached to a Facebook post wishing me well on my birthday. It wasn’t talked out over the phone or in person but, the message was still heard. A tiny splinter of truth offered as almost an afterthought and a quick glimpse at the resentment she held towards who? Me? Her abuser? Her life choices? Herself? I have no idea and have tried to share honest expressions of my own pain with at least three players in this dysfunction but suddenly that effort got caught up in the firestorm over gun control rather than tackled under the umbrella of the real issue.

Really?

Guns over family?

That is the take away here?

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And so, we come back to today. A simple heartfelt plea to help end the carnage of young children, teens and other innocent people at the hands of mass murderers was posted online. In not knowing how to do anything else in such a moment of shock and disgust a simple Facebook post became the catalyst or “trigger” for releasing anger on more than the topic of the insane proliferation of guns in America. The boner some segments of America has for guns is mind-boggling but I truly believe being able to purchase these imagined tools of power and control cloud the reality that power comes from within rather than from a gun. Confident, non-conflict seeking people don’t typically feel the need to arm themselves to the teeth in protection of some threat that hasn’t come to them and may never come to them. But, what the hell! Better to be safely paranoid than sorry. It wasn’t about taking your damn guns away.

So, an honest opinion piece posted on social media, by the only positive male in my life and a reply from my 18-year-old daughter to a less than factual missive posted by her almost 40-year-old aunt, acted as the proverbial straw that broke the fragile family into sniping, passive-aggressive shards. Documenting the slashing comments from other family members or my follow-up text asking the sister who felt the urgent need to embarrass and scare my daughter online to call me, if she dared, would certainly feel satisfying but, I choose to exhibit some restraint. However, out of the need for full disclosure of my own failings I will own up to asking this sister about her psychiatric med regimen and followed up by asking her to “lose my phone number” and pronounced her no longer family. And, in place of goodbye I sadly ended with a rousing, “go fuck yourself.” When we burn it down, we go all the way to the ground.

I’m not proud of how I did it but I am also not sorry for shutting down an isolated, reactionary bully. Two wrongs (or two bullies) don’t make a right and I know I will look back on this moment with edits I wish I could enter but, I can’t. It’s out there, it was long overdue, and now I will work with what I have while sending my deepest apologies to her children out into the atmosphere because doing anything else would anger the beast further. (IT DID…SEE UPDATE BELOW. I AM A SLOW LEARNER)

Disagreement online should not be grounds for imploding a relationship with family when the real issue is personal insecurities and guilt. And, initially, my intent was to ignore and move on but then…Brother Molester joined the fray.

And they know what he did. He knows what he did. Yet, there he was joining in on the roasting of “snowflakes” which was stoked by a sister and brother-in-law who arrogantly and erroneously assumed the original post was all about them. And instead of saving the discussion for the next face-to-face get together it gets parceled out, online, for other family members and friends to see. I am more embarrassed for them than myself because I did not respond online but I was also disappointed, hurt and angry they chose to use my daughter and the man I love dearly as a launching point to express their resentment. If it’s really about me then address it with me. Don’t hide behind a flash-point issue.

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It wasn’t about you.

It was about a national tragedy.

It was about yet another school shooting.

It was about our growing lack of concern about the well-being of others.

It was about our own government, the NRA and gun manufacturers putting personal profit over the lives of people.

To not consider any of that and to only take it as a hit piece written all about you surely vindicates and legitimizes the author. Right? If you saw yourself in that mirror of personal opinion and recoiled in anger then maybe the response should have been to consider what you can do to help rather than rushing to defend your guns. But, if it was really about built up anger over personal insecurities then address that with yourself.

The moment the perpetrator of my abuse joined their ridicule party and…they let him, well this is where I lost my collective shit.

I should have let it go, like I stated previously, and ignored it as the kind and considerate man in my life suggested but the more I read their true opinion of me, my partner and my daughter the less I cared about their feelings. I let my ego take over. That in itself is a common trait in my family. The skill of forgeting about the feelings of others when we are so invested in being right rather than loving.

Defend your guns, mock the ones urging action to stop the continued human carnage, I can deal with that. But, to actively engage with someone who destroyed my childhood, trust and innocence while spewing bile about me and at the people I love? That is when the real ugliness is revealed about us all. The long denied self-loathing, guilt and shame ran straight up that middle finger flagpole and flapped right in my face. I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

The things I write, comment on and like online aren’t targeted at anyone specific.

They are a composite of everything I feel inside and want to get out.

They are about how I wish the world could be.

They are about my journey to the person I want to be.

I have no control over how my family feels or reacts but I do have control over how I let it impact me and how I react to it going forward. To distance myself now will be hard but it has to be done so that, maybe in the future, we can come back together as repaired, caring people. It is all I can do. I will work on me and they can work on themselves, or not, that isn’t my choice.

And so, for now I will just sit back, wait and remain open in real-time while disconnecting from them in the vast wasteland of online shout downs, personal insults and purposeful deflection. The welcome mat remains out.

*UPDATE*

So, I made the choice to unfriend all of my family on Facebook. Harsh choice but the paranoia runs deep in social media land and to save the headaches I just unplugged. Also the interactions of late have made my own daughter very apprehensive about these people she once thought she could trust since her own aunt lashed out at her.

My dear, sweet nephew reached out right after and asked why I did that. I told him why and said I was sorry. He said it was up to me to add him and his sister back because they had done nothing and weren’t involved in the “feud.” If you can even really call it a feud since it was really a cheap one-sided attack that had to be pointed out to me by a third-party because I wasn’t even following the grousing to begin with.

Anyway, in dutiful hangdog fashion I sent new requests to each child and added a note to my niece’s request telling her I was sorry for deleting them and that I was also sorry that the adults in her life were choosing to behave childishly. I said in closing, “We should all do better.”

WE SHOULD!

ALL of the adults in her life should behave better. They didn’t, including me, and I apologized for my part in it.

And…it got sent on to her mother, who is a master grudge holder, for report and inspection. My fault there since I, myself a recovering grudge holder, should have known better. So now I am “a game player” manipulating her children against her for trying to apologize yet she is a martyr protecting her beliefs by blasting her own teen age niece online for daring to question her fact checking. Undiagnosed Pot Calling Kettle Black Syndrome?

For added perspective, her “children” are teenagers as well whom she states are free to make their own decisions so… yeah…there is that.  But again, my fault. No excuse. Her kids, not mine. Hand slapped and the cone of silence is back in place.

Lessons learned?

Two.

1. Don’t pull kids (teenagers or not) into adult issues.

2. Reading comprehension flies right out the window when self-righteous paranoia is in charge.

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Just move on!

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

How to even begin here? I can hear the groans now. Not another boo-hoo piece about how someone feels upset because they had a crappy childhood or their candidate lost. Everyone has crappy moments in life so get over it and move on! Suck it up Buttercup…or Snowflake, the current supposed insult dujour for the unimaginative and short sighted.

Yeah, that’s a great motivational speech there Coach Hard-Ass! Unless, of course, the person speaking these dismissive words was the one helping to lay the bricks in that damaged wall to begin with. Pep talks offered by the tough love crowd are sometimes self-serving…just so you know.

It’s an absolute curiosity and almost definite fact that those so quick to call names, when those being maligned stand up for themselves, have great experience playing the shell game of victim blaming and bully bolstering. Defensive deflection is another way to describe it because heaven knows we can’t be allowed to get away with blaming Moms and Pops or the Democrats or Republicans for our current dysfunctions. “You’re an adult now, it’s all on you to fix. Not my fault!” This also applies to society as a whole and is not just a familial phenomenon.

The assertion that as an adult the easier path to take after hearing such dismissive “because I said so” proclamations would be to just shrug and move on but why should everyone be forced to do this without some discussion?  Is this because society, the media, smug politicians or preachers say so? Maybe speaking one’s mind has less to do with assigning blame and demanding apologies and more to do with being honest and free. Think about that one before getting the old panties all in a wad okay? Honesty has become pretty tarnished lately.

At what age do we stop being seen as immature and start being seen as worthy discussion and debate partners? In this day and age of expecting people to own responsibility for their foul-ups why is it so commonplace to simply brush off meaningful confrontations by using emotionally corrosive vomit like, “Oh, just move on will you?” Nope! This needs to be discussed, highlighted, double-checked and then put into proper perspective. Cover-ups are tiresome and rarely hide the true problems. And, insulting someone just to get them to shut up is the ultimate crown worn by emotional and intellectual cowards.

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Telling people to “move on” is a very effective way to stop people from talking about their pain. It’s done because those that need to hear the truth most have no intention of listening and they do this out of fear that they may have played a part in causing another human being pain. After years of denial it’s just safer to maintain the status quo of NO! Not me! That didn’t happen like that! You are making things up! On and on, we hear the song of presumed ultimate knowledge from those that turned a blind eye to emotional and physical trauma. Nothing is more painful than living with the true knowledge that the very people who are supposed to be looking out for and protecting you are also both the intentional and unintentional perpetrators. You don’t have to take that lying down, nor should you let something like that go without some protest.

Growing up I was given the impression that sharing feelings or expressing upset was tantamount to childish whining and not something that would be tolerated. If I had the nerve to speak up then my ultimate reward was usually a litany of personal insults, on a good day, and a sharp punch to the shoulder or slap upside the head on a bad day. Spin the wheel! Which will it be? Say something or say nothing and die slowly inside?  For many years I did stay on mute, joking away the pain and minimizing my experiences because who wants to see all of that dirty, beaten up baggage? Put that silliness in the closet like everyone else. How dare you!

Resentment builds when silence is maintained and this is why I write. I write because I’ll be damned if I’ll allow someone else to edit my beliefs or sanitize my experiences. Even if it means I may be on the receiving end of criticism and scorn, I write.

My experiences and personal beliefs are not exaggerated or wrong. They are MINE and unless my critics have the ability to read minds and possess a finely calibrated internal lie detector test then my response is this; what’s mine is MINE and what’s yours is YOURS. No one has the right to deny me my life’s journey because I would never deny them theirs. This is what makes us all beautiful and unique, warts and all. We can agree to disagree and still co-exist…really, we actually can. I shit you not!

Speaking the truth is hard and it can alienate but, and this is huge, it can also liberate. Truth can be embarrassing and it can also be the spark that lights a massive fire of personal indignation, pitting friend against friend, family member against family member and even anonymous web trolls against those brave enough to speak out. It’s the risk we all take when we choose to stop being emotionally constipated and start being real. Always be honestly real because the alternative is pretty hollow.

 

© 2016-2017 Laura A. Askew, All Rights Reserved

As a gentle reminder: People who steal the creative property of others deserve a swift donkey kick in the crotch. Don’t steal my stuff!

 

 

It’s Time To Change…

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

You have no idea how long I have been waiting to write this! An eternity, a long, lovely time since I wore flowy retro hippie skirts or baggy cut-off denim overalls with one strap hanging loose and wrists full of hemp bracelets while sitting around the hacky sack circle.

No, I’m not talking about the 60’s, I’m speaking of that twilight time between 1988 and 1994 when formerly materialist Gen Xers decided to get all trippy, waxing poetic with peace or ankh signs hanging from ears and necks and the cloying scent of patchouli mixed with Chloe or Giorgio Red. It was like a small corner of MTV and Madison Avenue fell into an acid trip in which the crappy things in life just didn’t matter anymore.

And, life does some crappy things to you with “fashion” being one of the most cringe worthy at times but honestly, I enjoyed this time a lot because it brought me the closest to not giving a shit than I’ve ever been until right here, right now. If anyone gets that last reference and can message me with the correct answer I will mail you this:

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Well, not this one exactly but something like it that doesn’t smell like  bong water….

Most people come to terms with their childhood sooner or later, the embarrassing pictures and stories but teenage years and early twenties are harder to grasp because we both loathe them and long for them in the same breath. Take them or leave them but either way they define us the most and write the story of who we really are with the sharpest clarity.

It’s the ugly truth of angst that motivates people to reject or embrace the path they need to be on in life in order to succeed or fail; this is everyone’s turning point. Go or stay, live or die, crash and burn or pull up and soar! These are the days (another reference there) in which we learn to bask in the glory of true impending freedom or we get stuck in the mud of confusion and woe is me gloom. When it’s time to change we know it but what if the costume you picked out and tried on isn’t for a role you want to keep playing? The short answer is this: Take it off! There will always be someone waiting to pick it up so pass it along and search for your one true fit in this giant garage sale called Life.

Hanging out with dreamers, also called “losers” by those afraid to shed their own ill-chosen costumes of societal pigeonhole backlogging, became my wish back then.  And now, that desire is back. I like people who smile even when rain is pouring down and I adore those that brush off criticism like a mere crumb on their peasant blouse. No worries.

Life ain’t no big thing once you stop over thinking and just keep on rolling. Love one another and mind your own shit because stepping in others isn’t cool man. Not cool at all. Is it naive to think I can get this back? I don’t think so and my conviction to change becomes that much stronger because the way I have been living so far has been nothing more than a means to an end…the ultimate end…like spinning over and over, unfulfilled, until my breath just stops. Who wants that?

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I want to love AND live, not just one or the other and in order to love the life I’m living I have to change because nothing is truly sustainable without adjustment and adaptation yet, so many are afraid of such a benign word like “change.” I’m not entirely sure why but can guess that it involves a fear of being honest about what they really want and admitting that certain career or educational paths just can’t lead them there.

We all fear because that is what prompts us to take missteps and it’s also how we learn so embrace the dreams, the dreamers and their ability to let go and just live. Now, everything else will just fall into place once you pull the stick of rigid expectations out of your ass and then the real party can start. When life is hard, you have to change. Come on, let’s dance shall we?

 

 

Get it together woman!

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

I have been in a funk. A sinking, dark, unmotivated funky funk.

And, it doesn’t help that I have 3 blogs going and cannot seem to keep track of which password goes to which blog or which glob of words I plopped where. I really should clean that up and get everything in one place. But, I’m lazy. Or, sad. Or, maybe even depressed. And…too tired to decide which.

So, right now I’m making a goddamned decision.No…I’m really doing it!

This is the new and permanent home of Reverie and I will systematically move every word I own here.  Good luck to those that choose to read my sad weirdness. I promise you will never get bored.

A place for everything and…everyone put in their place

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

There are times when I wake up in the middle of the night, heart pounding and anger flared from a random memory that decided to make itself known again to my subconscious. One such memory was of an encounter with a person, who obviously peaked emotionally in high school, trying to put me in my place because I dared to invade her social circle with my lower class, almost food stamp qualifying background. It was a moment I hadn’t thought about in eons, because it was that long ago, but still a moment when I realized that there are some pretty awful people in this world masquerading as fine, upstanding citizens.

I won’t detail what was said because that would give too much attention to a woman who obviously can’t function without attention, good or bad, but let’s just say that it was the equivalent of a small child sticking out their tongue and doing the “Na-Na, Na, Na-Na, Na” thing. In the moment I was taken aback but not totally surprised because she never gave me the impression that she ever accepted me as an equal but rather, viewed me as an object of disdain and mockery for not being a former cheerleader, sorority sister or over-achieving Super Mom whose life revolved around her children’s accomplishments. I was part of the, “Oh, you’re a working mom” sect and she was fortunate enough to be married to a doctor, which was wonderful but not necessary to point out all the time. “My husband, who is a doctor….” became a suspiciously purposeful reminder of what I was not now nor would I ever be which was rich, popular and accepted. It hurt a little but I somehow managed to survive and move forward in life obviously.

I remember that a few of her mottos were, “public school is for poor people, not us” or “we are involved in ballet, gymnastics, soccer, and tennis simultaneously,” and she never shared anything about herself, anything that would make me empathize with or feel connected to her. All she gave out were news flashes about how wonderful her kids were followed by passive-aggressive comments on my parenting choices. Thanks, but I never asked you…is what I should have said but I’d usually just turn away in embarrassment or move back into my spot closest to the door, at the ready to bolt. I was the outsider in the bunch so who was I to stand up and tell her off?

Why did it bother me so much? The verdict from the popular crowd was that I was socially awkward and jealous because I grew up poor and didn’t learn how to interact with upper class people and lacked the manners and charm to ever fit in hence the need to be constantly put in my place. But, what was my place? If they knew they never told me directly but judging by the nasty looks, rude remarks and blatant brush offs it must be a pretty awful place. Good Lord! How was I ever allowed to walk the same streets as these amazing social beacons and high yield stock option recipients?

In thinking back, I know now that they aren’t all powerful and experience odoriferous flatulence and fecal evacuation just like anyone else roaming this planet and that it, in fact, does not smell like roses. Looky there!  I made farting and shitting sound pretty classy now didn’t I? Everyone does it, even the ultra-fortunate but somehow, being human and acting human (faulty, emotional, kind-hearted, polite and humble) is something to be shunned like a Louis Vuitton knock-off. Nope, not good enough for us, this human thing is well, too proletariat.  We are Gods!

At least that is what I used to think these one-dimensional harpies thought about all, gasp, poor people but then I realized that not everyone was like that and I was judging all upper class people based on my interactions with a few, to put it honestly and bluntly, assholes. Money can’t change an asshole into a humanitarian, the asshole traits are still there under the surface waiting to spring forth with the most minimal provocation. But, good people surely don’t lose that inherent trait to be kind to others or to offer a supportive word or gentle hug when it’s needed most just because they find themselves on the abundant receiving end of financial good fortune right? I have met a few over the past few decades so I know more are out there, they have to be!

Make yourselves known because only you can prevent rampant asshole fires…that sounds awful, let me rephrase. Only you, the kind and polite money attracting people of the world can turn the tide in this poor=lazy, unmotivated and therefore unworthy atmosphere. I’m not saying, “Hand over your cash” either so DO NOT be posting any liberal vs conservative blather in the comments section. This is about how I feel not how you feel on the matter because this is MY memory, not yours.

What I am saying is, the more kind and thoughtful interactions people of differing financial backgrounds have the more acceptance those not so financially well-off may feel and acceptance is worth more than gold.  Acceptance helps motivation ignite. Acceptance makes hope possible. It’s so simple yet also so hard for some people to provide. Why? Talk is free. Smiling is free. A respectful handshake and hug are free too just as direct eye contact is. You have no idea how demoralizing it is to have someone look through you or around you but never directly at you.

As for myself, I may not be considered financially rich now but I do okay and feel very grateful for all that I have and the wonderful people I have surrounding me. And while this may have started out as a painful memory of how a horrible woman tried to make me feel bad because of who I am and where I came from its ended up being a story of redemption…for me.  I forgive her for being such a snotty, sarcastic and dismissive person and accept that she must not be a very happy individual. Or, maybe she’s just dandy with how she acts and sees no reason to change. Either way, it’s done, I forgive and no longer have that moment weighing me down.

Sometimes dreams pull you back to the lessons you haven’t completed yet I guess. Lesson #5,006,201,369 down only 5,006,201,368 to go!

© 2018 L.A. Askew
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Welcome to the Grand Delusion…that is modern life.

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

I do not profess to be a therapist, preacher or politician. I’m just a human being who has seen a lot of garbage, personally and professionally, during the decades I’ve been a resident on this planet we all call home.

Now that the obligatory disclaimer has been typed we can move on…

Some of the things I have seen, heard and been personally subjected to range from outright abuse to reaffirming joy. I have been shown that some people can and will do the right thing but, I also know that there are many people who have no intention of ever getting along, letting bygones be bygones or accepting that not everyone out there wants to be just like them. It’s a fact. We all aren’t the same but we ALL have the ability to not take it personally when “friend” 1,089, on any number of our many social media accounts, espouses different political, religious or even socially based beliefs from us. This goes for every other random person you may encounter in life as well.

It isn’t a personal affront to you when Billy or Susie, each of whom having a mind of their own just like you, decide to go down a different path of thinking. How exactly does this personally harm you? Are they coming into your home and demanding that you believe the way they do? And, if you say that they are just because they post it online and you happen to have your computer on then welcome to the wild, wild world of self-imposed Butt-Hurt. Billy and Susie can’t magically turn your computer on in your own home, you have control over that. They also can’t force you to read what they have to say, you have fingers that can click “unfollow” at any time or even “unfriend” or “delete” which is amazing freedom right?

Now, I do ask though, what is so bad about hearing opposing ideas and beliefs? I have always been a firm believer in the adage that in order to be well-informed one must be able to view an issue from all sides…not just our own. Everything, even a plain old piece of paper, has more than one side. You may think your side is prettier and the best darn side ever but there will always be someone who prefers the opposite and…that’s okay….it won’t kill you…because it’s just an idea or belief that resides within the heart and mind of its possessor.

But, and I was ready for this one, what if that belief is taken out of the internal realm and action is added? Bad action like physical, catastrophic violence? This has been happening for thousands of years. While I wish I had a definite answer for how to stop this immediately… I do not.  And, the only people who can say when enough is enough are the ones advocating hate and violence in order to force their point(s) of view. Logic would dictate that “enough” is when they are absolutely in control and this could also mean when everyone is forced to state they agree with a particular mandate, law or edict, even when they don’t, out of fear of imprisonment, personal injury or death. This is happening now and has been happening for as long as I, my grandparents or great-grandparents have been here and on and on up the family tree to infinity. It isn’t new news.

This opinion piece is not intended to validate one side over another it is merely a stream of consciousness by which I choose to release my thoughts, ask a few questions and get some ideas from those different from me. Because, after all, how are we ever supposed to exist together if we don’t even know just a little bit about one another? I do want to stress that I have no patience for nastiness and response baiting trolls so argue away in the comments section if you like but I will not respond. I will however put you in my next work of fiction and make you do things that would cause your real-life head to explode so be warned. How do you think writers get material after all?

So, what DO we really know about one another? I know that I am not you and you aren’t me and quite frankly I think that is a great place to start. My thoughts, beliefs and ideas belong to me and were originally shaped by personal experiences gathered along my life’s path. Are they rigid in nature? Some are and some are not. I will give you an example:

Flexible:  My ability to consider different points of view. I may not know I can agree or disagree until I am provided with the proper evidence for why I should or shouldn’t agree.

Rigid: My belief that I should not be shouted down, spoken to with disrespect or harmed simply because of my gender, age, race, sexual orientation or personal ideology.

On that last point I have received some flak from those who feel I should simply stay quiet and do as controlling powers in the Middle Ages (and earlier) dictated but, you know what? That didn’t fly with everyone then and it still doesn’t so I will simply take it for what it is; a weak attempt to control with no real power behind it. Because, we all know that just because someone yells louder than everyone else it doesn’t mean that their message makes any sense or should be followed. It’s just noise and the great thing about noise is that if it’s ignored long enough it just becomes a background hum that we learn to tune out while continuing to move forward.

Now, to address what makes people follow. That one is simple! One of two things, fear or allegiance and sometimes those two become intertwined. Some people fear that the things they love the most will be taken from them. I won’t say what those “things” could be because I am wise enough to know that many, many people already have a long scroll of things they can drop right into the slot so have at it! But, the one thing no one has been mentioning, publically anyway, is apathy. We can’t change the world, some say, so why bother? And, in that same vein, if we never change lightbulbs that have blown out then we will always be in the dark. People stumble and fall in the dark just like they stumble and fall over misinformation and bias in broad daylight. Change is the best policy when falling down the stairs or a well of tabloid babble is the alternative. Get the facts, get all sides and get a new lightbulb!

In this current atmosphere of mistrust, lies and blatant hate, and it really isn’t anything other than that so let’s not try to paint it up and put nice clothes on it, we can only continue BEING. That may sound all wishy-washy but hear me out. If fear is allowed to keep people from being themselves then who wins? Sure, for the time being those who hide are keep safe but eventually the hate that was allowed in begins to build and fester. And, when we stop being ourselves, paranoia sets in, over-reactions occur and the sickness of division spreads. Who do you work for? What is your purpose here?  When did we all become so miserable and unfree???? Fear did that to us and we allowed it to happen and the sellers of hate were counting on it. They probably even had odds set on some event wager line in Las Vegas. Bravo assholes!

What do we do now?  I’m only one person but I will continue saying this over and over until someone else hears it and passes it on, “Stop letting the sellers of fear win!” We are better than this America. Kindness isn’t weakness and here is a novel thought, how about we start by being kind to one another, see how THAT goes and then spread it out to like-minded countries around us? A WHOLE national functions better than a divided one and, better yet, a UNIFIED but respectful of differences type nation scares the hell out of those that wish to control us. “Damn! These Americans finally have their shit together and can’t be scared into lashing out at one another to the point of being so broken down that we can just swoop in and take over!” Life is pretty simple after all….and it is WE who choose to make it hard. Choose better, choose wiser and in the end nothing else matters.