"And, in the end, the love you take...

...is equal to the love you make."  Paul McCartney added that philosophical couplet to the to the of "The End".  And it can take a lifetime's worth of lessons to feel the truth of that.

It becomes the theme of this post because, as I was watching Rebel Without A Cause a few days ago, it reminded me of that song.  There is a scene inside the mansion, where Judy and Jim are hanging out upstairs, and says, with reverence, "I love somebody. All the time I've been... I've been looking for someone to love me. And now I love somebody. And it's so easy. Why is it easy now".  I think it was easy for her, and for Jim, because they were open to it, and because, in the course of a day, their world view had totally shifted.

Here's the thing though:  at the heart of them, Rebel Without a Cause, The Wizard of Oz, and Field of Dreams are all about that very same idea.  Finding your capacity for greatness within yourself and not waiting for it to knock on your door, or show up on a yellow-brick road, or in a cornfield.

There is a moment, I think, that when the universe delivers the person who will become THE Person, there is a moment where you realize that who you have found may not have been who you thought you were looking for.  And in that moment of realization, you have two choices.  You can be surprised, and caught off guard and just go with it, or you can fight it.  And if you have the guts to say "that is my Person, and I have no idea why, but everything that is happening feels absolutely like what I am supposed to be doing" then you will be rewarded with a great relationship, a great love and overall greatness.  Your friends may say, "Why are you building that baseball field in your corn?", but you do it because you are compelled, because you have to do it.  If you didn't do it, you might as well not do anything.  That is what love was like, is like for me.  That is what loving my husband is like.  It was the universe smacking me on the back of the head and saying "See that guy?  That's him."  And it was, it is.  It was totally uncharted territory for me.  I had thought I had known love, but it was like the difference between seeing a Keanu Reeves version of Citizen Kane, and thinking it was okay, and then seeing Welles in 70mm.  Earth-shattering and mind-blowing.

In The Wizard of Oz, Dorothy has the power, has always had the power, and just didn't know it.  In Rebel, Judy and Jim realize that their capacity to love is more, so much more important, than how much they are loved by others.  It is your capacity to love that makes you feel alive.  Not the anger, the frustration, any of that.  It is all in your capacity to love.

In Field of Dreams when Ray's dad shows up at the end, he says "Oh, God, it was you."  Thinking that he had built this field so that his emotionally distant father would come so that they could reconnect.  And Shoeless Joe Jackson turns to Ray, from way out there in deep center field, and says, "No, Ray.  It was you."  The best thing ever.  That even though no one would ever think they were building a baseball field to heal themselves, that's what it was really for.  It was Ray's immense capacity for love of his father, his family, and of the game, that made the ghosts happen.  "If you build it, he will come."  And I love Field of Dreams.  It's a transcendent film, and people throw it away, but I unapologetically love it.

So if you are looking for anything out there (love, inspiration, genius, soul), you have to, have to look inside yourself.  It's all in there:  ruby slippers, a baseball field, a rebel without a cause.  All of it is inside you.  All of it.  Everyday.  The capacity to love, to be great, to be rebellious, to be powerful, life-changing, earth-shattering, mind-blowing.

So, after all of that, I would like to thank my husband.  For helping me understand my capacity and ability to love.  We have been married for 16 years now, and I am still sometimes so overwhelmed with love for him that I cry.  There are songs I could hear a thousand times, and I would cry every time, because I love him so much.  So thank you, Mr. B., and happy anniversary.

Don't say there's nothing to do in the doldrums

The doldrums are something that happen in the middle of the ocean, these huge areas of stillness way out there in the middle.  No wind, no waves, and lots of waiting.

Once you're stuck out there, the only thing to do is sleep and clean the ship.  Because you are up against nature, the only thing to do is drift for a while.  It can make you a little crazy; all that stillness and waiting.  Waiting for a giant and powerful force to help you move.

My ship is clean, I am well-rested, and ready to get moving, but this ocean I am sailing on is dead calm right now.  I am ready for some major wind to get me going.

I was talking to Cece the other day, and lamenting this stillness, and was laughing because this is such a 'white person' problem (in the sense of somtimes well-off, entitled folk complaining about anything) and she said, "Just because it's a white person problem doesn't mean it's not a problem."  My girl.

I know that there are people all over the world who have real things to complain about.  Poverty, hunger, lack of clean water and sanitation.  And all of these issues trump mine, no doubt, but that doesn't mean that what's happening on this calm sea doesn't matter, or doesn't affect me.  And if this is all I have to lament, I consider myself to be exceptionally lucky.  I have a loving husband, wonderful kids, great family all around.  Sometimes, though, I feel far from the land.  I am not alone, not even close to alone, but sometimes feel very solitary. 

There are small, teasing indications that wind is on the way, but every time I get my hatches battened down, nothing happens.  Maybe it just means that when it actually comes, I will be super-prepared.  I am so ready to sail.

I am trying to find inspiration, which I think is like trying to find Narnia:  you can't find it if you're looking for it.  So in the meantime, I will clean the ship, get some sleep, and wait for the winds to come.

The middle of nowhere is about 25 miles from here

I read something today that said, essentially, that you can both lose yourself and find yourself in the middle of nowhere.  And somehow I feel that being close to the center of United States counts.  Kansas, specifically.  It may seem that I am constantly disparaging Kansas, but it's like wearing shoes that don't fit, and having to break them in.  Then they fit pretty well for a while.  Suddenly, though, the heel is worn unevenly and they get all scuffed, and it's time for a new pair of shoes.

Many people would say, ah, here's a woman talking about shoes again, but it's the first analogy that came to mind.  All I want is a new pair of shoes.

So, maybe I am taking some time and finding myself out here.  I have certainly come to some good realizations over the past 5 years. 

First, anger serves almost no purpose.  Usually, the people you're angry at don't care or don't know, so all it is does is make you more angry. 

Second, if you thought high-school drama was ridiculous, wait until you are around entitled grown-ups.  (As an example, many military wives I know are losing their minds that the commissary prices may go up significantly.  I think that's fine, since I would rather that the government supply good insurance and retirement for soldiers.  If $1 more for something will insure enough money in the military coffers to take care of current soldiers and veterans, I'd rather have that than cheaper breakfast cereal.)

Third, while I am not responsible for the happiness of other people, I still long to help facilitate it.  It's so hard for me not to try valiantly to help someone achieve or acquire something they want.  Sometimes, it's just when someone is feeling down.  I want to help them not feel that way, and not to feel lonely in their down-ness.  I have to make sure, though, not to get to the point where I am working harder for it than they are.  That's the trick for me, I think.  I don't have a good balance, and think that, if I don't immediately act to help someone in need, they may think that I don't care about them.  Theses are often people who I have known for years, and of course they know that I love them, value them, and wish they had happiness and success (by whatever standard that is measured for them).  It's not my job to help them, but as a friend or family member, is it in the best interest of the community ("it takes a village") to help them out?  I am still sorting this one out...

Fourth, and finally for now, I have learned to start believing that I am enough.  Just as I am.  And even though there's always room for improvement (both personally and professionally), I am enough.  Even when my house is a mess, I have eaten too much, or I am not nice when talking about someone, I am enough.  All that does is provide me with clear goals and objectives to clean the damn house, put down the fork, and keep other people's names out of my mouth.

I am force to be reckoned with, just as I am.  I am enough, just as I am.  I am a weird, driven, cranky, laugh-my-ass-off woman just as I am.  I want more happiness for you than you may want for yourself.  I certainly want more happiness for myself than you want for me, is how it feels sometimes.  But there is no one who is better at stopping me, talking me out of things, and obstructing me as I am.  If I were someone else, I would tell me to get out of my way.

Maybe that's what all this is for, psyching myself up and putting things out there so that it's written down somewhere and not just rolling around in my head.  Constantly, like a tumbleweed.  In Kansas.

The common denominator

Yeah, so I guess it's sort of been awhile since I last posted anything here.  I guess part of it is that, as a scattered, creative person, I tend to focus on things for about 72 hours at a time before I find myself moving on to the next fascinatingly shiny thing.

I am currently living in Kansas and working for a major tax preparing chain for the tax busy season.  We've been here almost five years, and while it is a nice place, I am ready to go somewhere that is, um, more bustling.  I never expected to be here in Kansas, and never expected to be here for such a long time.  The people here, for the most part, are very nice, and seem to like it, but it is not for me.  I'd like one metropolis with a side of culture, please.

I am thinking that, due to recent circumstances that have left me lonely, maybe it's time to revisit my seldom-used blog and talk to anyone willing to listen.  I am trying to lead of more positive life, and not get caught up in drama, and this may be a good venue for me before people start railing against anything I may write.

I guess the thing is, I really want to be friends with people, but I am at the point where I don't trust hardly any women at all.  I trust people that I've know for years (and seldom get to see) and a few women here, who I see one at a time, but I am coming to the conclusion that a group of women is more dangerous than a basket of pit vipers. "Snakes.....Why did it have to be snakes?"  Oh, Indy, I know how you feel...

It's always really great when, after some situation where a group of women turns on you, that your remaining friends tell you how awesome you are, and how it was problems that were inherent to other people in the group, but then why does it seem that I am the common denominator? 

But there are other ways that I am the common denominator with other people.  My brother Sam, who is seriously one of the coolest people I have ever met or had the pleasure to know, attributes a lot of his interests (and some aspects of his personage) to me.  I was the one who made him memorize the names of all the Beatles when he was 4, and I was home for Christmas from my first year at college.  We watched "A Hard Day's Night", and I made him learn their names (first and last) and what instruments they played.  I introduced him to Green Day and Nirvana and Presidents of the United States of America and (paragon of the 80s) Night Ranger.  But only 'Sister Christian' of course.

And now, my 15-year old daughter, who is super cool.  I made her a Beatles' fan, too, and she loves Green Day and old movies, and rocking out in the car.  And she is one of the coolest people, too.  And I think that, between the two of them, I am the common denominator.  And I don't mean that in an arrogant way.  Not one bit.  But why do people assume that anyone who takes pride in their own ability or actions or is self-congratulatory is also arrogant?  Muhammad Ali said he was 'the Greatest' a long time before he actually WAS 'the Greatest'.

But I will no longer apologize for giving myself credit for things that I have accomplished.  So that's that.  Maybe more here tomorrow, but maybe more in 4 more years.  You never know what shiny thing I may see in the next 72 hours.