Fog

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When I went to bed this morning, the fog was pretty dense behind my house. It rolled in out of nowhere. I think it’s a metaphor for what I am going through at the moment. “It happened out of nowhere.” Yeah, that sounds about right.

I feel nothing. I’m an ocean-cleansed shell. For almost two weeks now, I’ve continued to say “I’m fine.” I’ve probably been saying that for longer than I realize. “I’m okay” or “I’m fine” are often the truth, but sometimes it’s me dismissing myself when I shouldn’t. I didn’t have to pay someone to tell me that in therapy either, I am working it out on my own.

Today is “Surgical Thursday”, and I feel NOTHING. When someone takes their anger, frustration, and fear out on you systematically over the course of several days, weeks, months, years, etc., you slowly lose the ability to give a shit. You might very well care, but today, I’m choosing not to invest emotion into what is happening.

My dear Uncle used to say “It is what it is.” I’d like to interpret that as “Let it go.” It’s much like Glinda, the Good Witch of the North saying “You have no power here. Be gone, before someone drops a house on you!”

Today, I am going to do my level best to focus on things I neglected yesterday. I am tired of being on the phone for hours, of texting until my fingers ache, and of updating people when it’s not my responsibility to do so.

I politely asked my brother to have the surgeon call me after the procedure is over (he is the last surgery of the day, so I wasn’t asking for a miracle. It is commonplace for a surgeon to call the family if they cannot be present or speak to the family if they’re in the surgical waiting room.), so I’d know how it went. He dismissed me and said he’d call me himself. I think he’s over-reaching his expectations on that level. The kid thinks I’m going to be his caretaker/caregiver for many months of recovery. He’s wrong. Disrespect me once; shame on you. Disrespect me twice and you can go fuck yourself. When I hang up on a person twice in one day, it’s not because they’ve been polite and kind, it’s likely because they’ve been an asshole.

When I spoke to Case Study #2 last night, I vocalized this and he said “Then you don’t have to. You’re not obligated to take care of anyone who cannot see all the good that you do. You don’t need to be abused for caring and showing compassion. If someone cannot clearly see you, then they do not deserve you.” You might very well know all of that inside your soul, but having that reaffirmed by someone, at times, is quite gratifying. Everyone else has told me “You’re exhausted, you need to eat and take care of you.”, but no one was willing to address the fact that I don’t deserve hostility. I only have so much compassion before I shut down and say “Enough.”

Concern and compassion don’t come from selfish, self-serving places. They come from a place of genuineness. If someone repeatedly shows you that they do not respect that, or you, it’s perfectly fine to say “Fuck off!” (Or whatever you, personally, prefer to say.)

And so my day begins… There is writing to be done and creativity to unleash. Here’s hoping it is a productive day for one and all. If you are participating in NaNoWriMo, I wish you oodles of good luck. 🙂

Personally, I’m certain that over a hundred thousand quality words come out of my mouth on a daily basis, but that doesn’t mean they’re there for free. 😉

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Actions & Words

Last week I was struggling pretty hard and opened up to a friend. Most people run for the hills when you’re blatant in your honesty with them, especially about anything difficult, but this friend showed me that I was not going to be kicked while I was down, that her arms and heart were open for me. Actions speak louder than words. You can say you’ll always be there for me, but actually being there? That’s far more important to me. Words, it turns out, are often meaningless when it truly matters. So, thank you for being there for me, B. I won’t forget that. XO.

When you’ve spent most of your life being abandoned by people, you come to expect that it will continue to cycle, regardless of what you do to try to break the chain. Forgiveness isn’t an option for me in most instances. I will let something go…for me, but I don’t allow the same people back into my life to continue to hurt and harm me. Once I no longer feel anything for you, be it love or respect, I’m emotionally done. I used to think that was odd, but it turns out it’s not. The heart, mind, and soul have boundaries too, and it’s okay to accept and honor that.

I’ve been contemplating for some time now getting in touch with family I haven’t spoken to in several years. Ultimately I have decided not to call until Thanksgiving, because I truly don’t feel as though I’ve ever been part of the family, and there’s only so much effort I can make. In my mind, this is their last chance and I’m not going to make any bones about that. Not everyone you share blood lines with is going to be true family. Thankfully, you can choose your friends, which makes up for everything you find lacking in your family. If you met 99% of mine, you’d never know I was related to them. My best friend Marion suggested a DNA test to make sure they’re actually my relatives. She was appalled by the differences. I spent my entire life thinking there was something wrong with me, but it turns out, it’s not me, it’s them, and she helped me see that.

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This morning I learned of a friends’ miscarriage, and it put a lot of things into perspective for me. My heart breaks for the loss of the twins they were expecting. Yes, miscarriages happen every day, but if any two people deserved to be parents, it was them. I know in my heart that the right children will be gifted to them at the right time, and that they need time to fully mourn, but it knocked me down with immense sadness. An absolute stranger could tell me about a miscarriage and I’d feel sad for their loss. It’s called empathy. It never ceases to amaze me how much people are lacking in this department. I have moments where I only need to know the facts and how to fix the situations presented to me, but I’m not self-absorbed. I don’t ignore other people’s pain. Other people may ignore mine, but the humanity in me doesn’t allow me to ignore theirs. I don’t require a pat on the back for paying attention or looking deeply at other people. I’m simply being myself.

Take a moment during your busy day or week to look a little deeper at someone and a little less at yourself. You might be surprised by what you find.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

This Is One Of My Lines- Do Not Fucking Cross It

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I don’t write about religion often. Usually I mention it in passing, not as core subject matter. I believe that we are all entitled to our personal beliefs, so long as we aren’t hurting anyone. However, when I DO write about religion, it’s because something has pissed me off, which brings me to why I am writing this. There’s a reason.

Nine times out of ten when people meet me, the first words out of their mouth are “What part of Italy are your parents from?” or “What part of Puerto Rico are you from?” (My brother also gets pegged as 100% Italian or Puerto Rican, except he has olive skin and I can totally see it in him, especially when he’s tan.) I stare at them, dumbfounded. For the record, my Italian ancestry is from Rome and Venice and my Spanish ancestry is from Spain and Argentina. To read about additional aspects you can read more here Ancestry, or ask me. Not that I think it is important, it’s not.

For clarity, let me set the stage for you: I am the palest white girl you might ever meet. My natural hair color is a dark brown that I call espresso (It is currently blue-black because I wanted a change.), and my eyes are hazel-green that are predominantly green. They change color depending on what I’m wearing and the mood I’m in. There is not a single thing about me that is distinctively any racial ethnicity over another, but I always get pegged for one of the two, and occasionally people assume I’m Irish (I think it’s my complexion.). I have no problem with any of that, but when I say “Actually, I’m Jewish and my ancestry is blended.”, people audibly gasp as if I just announced I am the reincarnation of Hitler and Stalin and I’m planning on world domination.

There is an awful lot of inter-religion racism that I find deplorable, and I discovered it within my family last year. While we might be related, however closely or distantly, we don’t all have the same facial features, for obvious reasons. I was talking to a cousin and her exact words were “No one thinks you’re Jewish because you don’t have the Jewish nose that walks into the room five minutes before you do, like mine.” My jaw was on the fucking floor at the disgust I heard in her voice. She openly admitted that she thinks it’s ugly, but that she doesn’t believe in spending the money on plastic surgery or she’d do something about it. All I could think was “There are things I don’t like about myself too, but I don’t look at my face that way.” I mentioned it to someone else and they told me “You don’t know what it’s like to go through life as an ugly person.” Again, I was floored. I have NO IDEA what they see that I do not.

I don’t possess that level of self-hatred for quirks of nature that make each of us unique. I treasure the fact that I inherited high cheekbones that both of my Grandmothers had, that I am the last of the hazel-green eyed women in my family (for now), and that I got my maternal Grandmother’s and mother’s full lips and widow’s peak. I am an amalgamation of three different generations of women, perhaps more, all with distinctive genetic blends. I don’t see myself as any one thing, but I do see myself as me.

But I digress.

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About ten days ago, a friend of a friend sent me a Facebook request. Unlike most people, I do not accept friend requests simply because A knows B. I decided to do a little research. It took less than a minute to learn that the woman who wanted to be my “friend” is a 27-year-old Filipino woman, friends with someone I’ve known for a long time, who is married to a 70+ year old British man who is 100% anti-Semitic. Strike One.

His Facebook wall is full of BDS posts, anti-Israel posts, and all kinds of hate messages against Israel. Apparently every Jew on this planet “needs to be eliminated immediately” because “they’re all terrorists”. WOW! I stared at the screen, utterly speechless. This is who a young, pretty girl is married to?! Surely she can do better. I mean really, she’s stunning and appears to be sane. What is wrong with her?

He posts this crap in England and she’s asking him, in the Philippines, if this stuff is “true”. (That’s right, they don’t live together. Does this sound familiar?) His answer is “YES!”, along with additional colorful hate speech. Strike Two.

Instead of educating herself (There is NO reason anyone in this world should be THAT uneducated so as to believe such vile hatred about a country or a religion. You don’t have to be a Ph.D. candidate, you simply have to have a brain you utilize daily and not be ignorant.), she doesn’t question it. It’s coming from her husband, so she believes it. Strike Three. And get this: He’s a philosophy professor. Any university I know would revoke his tenure and fire him for that shit.

I immediately deleted her “friend request”. It would have resulted in an epic fight and I do not have the time, patience, or the inclination to educate someone who should be shipping off to an old age home sometime soon, as opposed to newly married to someone old enough to be his daughter who is either way too good for him, or maybe way too stupid.

If you want to believe that “Israel is plotting terror.”, do your fucking homework. It’s a tiny democratic country in the Middle East, home to Jews, Christians, and Muslims alike, surrounded by countries that all want to wipe them off the map because Israel is the only country in the world that is Jewish land, given to the Jewish people, so decreed by God.

I messaged my friend and explained the situation. She’s “friends” with both of them and I didn’t want to step on any toes because I didn’t know how close the relationship was or wasn’t. I’d never intentionally disrespect someone else’s friends. She agreed that I did the right thing, that the husband is crazy and that his hate messages bother her too, and she said she doesn’t understand his hate or where it comes from. And yet, her answer to dealing with him is to hide his posts on her Facebook wall, as opposed to outright deleting them OR telling him he’s wrong. That’s way too passive for me.

If someone says something derogatory to me because of my religion (or anything else, really), I call them out on their shit immediately. I have freedom of speech and I know how to use it. If you’re going to hide behind a computer and say stupid shit, I dare you to say it to my face. That’s the thing; these cowards NEVER actually come out from hiding and say a word to your face.

Sadly, the most hatred I have faced in terms of direct anti-Semitism has been from  my own people. My own family, and other Jews. I suspect that a lot of that is because I “don’t look Jewish”. I have no idea what that even means, because it is a wholly racist comment. I wouldn’t tell a white woman that she “doesn’t look African”, despite the fact that she just told me that’s where she’s from, so why would I brand anyone else as not looking like an image someone else is putting in one’s mind? That is incredibly ignorant.

Would you tell Behati Prinsloo, wife to Adam Levine, that she doesn’t look like an African woman (She is Namibian. I do my homework.)? No, I didn’t think so. Because not only is she white and a supermodel, but the last time I checked her English is better than most people born in this country.

In my mind, I don’t see color. I see people. Everyone is different, everyone is unique. There are religious differences, yes. The difference in Judaism is that we do not believe in Jesus or that Jesus is the son of God. There are dietary laws and some other historical and biblical differences, but the differences aren’t so enormous that one needs to argue about it. I can argue the two different Bibles with you until the cows come home, but does that really matter? No. To each their own, so long as you aren’t hurting anyone.

However, any form of hatred hurts us all. Hatred is taught. We are not born knowing hate. I grew up surrounded by other religions and cultures, never once thinking anything of it. As I’ve gotten older, I realize how incredibly sheltered some people are, and that is scary and eye-opening to me.

I don’t often wear a symbol of faith because it feels redundant, but the other day a woman came running up to me to ask about my Triple Goddess pendant. I had it custom-made about five years ago. In between the three phases of the moon that represent Maiden, Mother, and Crone are two Stars of David and a very large gemstone in the center represents the full moon. It was my first time wearing it. That is precisely who and what I am. I believe in duality of God and Goddess (this is represented in Kabbalah, but is represented as male and feminine aspects of God as opposed to duality.), but I am also 100% Jewish. And as a Jewish woman, there is no room in my world, or the world on a whole, for anti-Semitism or hatred. Make an off-color, stupid, or rude remark to or in front of me and we’ll see if you’re sitting and/or eating tomorrow. I am supremely polite, I believe we all have the right to practice whatever we believe in so long as no harm is coming to anyone, but I will never be polite in the face of hatred or ignorance, nor will I tolerate it.

Tonight is the beginning of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. It marks the end of the year 5775 on the Jewish calendar and brings in 5776. It is one of the holiest holidays we celebrate. Many people have told me that this year, their temples have notified them of police presence and/or security for services, partly due to all of the anti-Semitism that has occurred all over the world over the past year. I think it’s smart, but it’s sad.

I, personally, don’t attend temple unless I am invited to something that calls for it. It has nothing to do with anything other than my attention span. Services are long, are almost predominantly in Hebrew or Ladino, and my brain can only listen for a certain amount of time before I space out and/or start to fall asleep, which is rude beyond words, so I prefer to pray throughout the year, light candles on my own, and take time to reflect and work on myself. It is emotionally heavy for me, so I feel it’s crucial to know my boundaries. Part of that is knowing myself. The holidays are tough on me, and going to temple isn’t going to ease that. I don’t have to be among other people to be what I was born, or to be what I believe. That makes sense for some people, but for me, it doesn’t help matters, so I tough it out.

Here’s hoping the new year will be prosperous and sweet. Let there be more understanding, more compassion, more concern for others, more helping people in need, because at the end of the day, there is no room for hate. It benefits nothing and no one.

L’Shana Tovah!

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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True Compassion

“True compassion is not just an emotional response, but a firm commitment founded on reason. Therefore, our compassion for others does not change even if they behave negatively. Our feelings of responsibility for others gives rise to a wish to help them actively overcome their problems.” -Dalai Lama