Breaking the Lock

For a very long time, I had a great deal of challenge seeing de facto value for myself. For a while, it seemed ironic, because of the fact that I would always use my identification as an activist to support and reinforce the value that other people have simply for the fact of their being human.

I even remember one of our NMAC staff retreats, I don't remember what the topic was, but I recall several of my coworkers stating that I was very hard on myself, including both of my supervisors. Not to get too much into the paranoia I frequently get in whenever I think that my work is somehow not on par with what somebody else's expectations, but I was a bit taken aback by it. I also remember the people there saying something about how I viewed other people, and why I seemed so willing to be ok with other people's mistakes, and not my own. I also remember vividly the look of shock on everyone's faces whenever I stated that it somehow seemed ok for other people, but that I felt like I had to have a different standard for myself.

It's taken me years to be able to overcome this sense within myself of having to somehow prove my own value to myself, or somehow, to the universe, in some way. To a limited degree, I wonder if it has anything to do with my image of God. For myself, I identify as an atheist not so much because I feel as if God *cannot* exist, but rather that I view God as retributive, selfish, and ultimately mean-spirited, and therefore, I choose to believe in a universe that is not predestined to misery by some sort of force that is more powerful than all of us together. Years ago, toward the end of my high school days, is when I came to this conclusion...

Interestingly, prior to coming to that conclusion, I had been *extremely* religious, and as such had fallen into a lot of the conservative culture. To the extent that it had been a point of pride for myself how many times I'd read the Bible cover to cover, how well I understood or could argue certain of the lessons within it, etc. And for years afterward, it was always (and likely still is, but I choose most of the time not to banter with fundamentalists and other conservatives later in life) a constant nail in the coffin of anybody who tried to argue either politics or religion with me, because it's difficult to make an argument based upon religion against somebody who is infinitely more qualified to interpret religious texts and doctrine than you. Which, to some degree, was also part of the reason why I'd focused on Religious Studies as one of my majors in college. (I'll let you take my stand on personal standards into place whenever I then point out again that I had a double major in Philosophy and Religious Studies, and also a double minor in Legal Studies and Women's Studies... especially with having been called the king of incompletes because, as one of my Women's Studies professors stated to me about turning in one particular assignment "We know whatever you turn in is going to be great, and it doesn't have to be perfect. Just turn something in to us. Don't worry about having to do additional research or getting more data. Just turn in what you have." Sadly, I still couldn't do it, and even when I *did* turn in what I had, I was terribly disappointed in it.)

Those tangents aside, the main point being that I had determined that it was my goal to do the right thing in the world, even if it meant going against the will of God. And as such, it also meant that I would try to live my life doing the right thing at all times, with the consideration that "if God is in any way benevolent, then He will determine that I've lived my life doing my best to make the world a better place, or else God is a tyrant, and I will gladly go to Hell in protest to an unjust deity."

It almost seems arrogant whenever I tell it to others. But it was also a bad setup that I placed myself in. Because it was so global, so cosmic of a goal, that it requires every moment of every day to be made as if it's some sort of move on a grand chess board, with me on one side of the action and God on the other. It also set me up to have a very low opinion of myself every time I made a false move, failed in some way, or did something that was hurtful to others.

In this sense, I suppose it's only a matter of distance from that previous belief that has gotten me to a point that has come to start finally accepting myself and my value for what and who it is that I am, not as some sort of grand schemer who can best some fictional divine being at a cosmic game of morality. My own sense of worth comes from myself, not from what degree I'm able to come out ahead in the game and be *just that much* better. I can't pinpoint any moment where this has made less of a difference or impact upon me, but it's something recent, at the very least. And so it's only distance that I can explain it out as. I have to relate it to Ani Difranco here:

"I was locked, into being my mother's daughter. I was just eating bread and water, thinking 'nothing ever changes.' I was shocked, to see the mistakes of each generation will fade like a radio station if you drive out of range."

In the end, I'm finally starting to like myself a heck of a lot better. And I don't need to have anybody give me that value, or find it in providing something to others. Or even in finding the right thing to do, particularly at my own expense. I still do take a great deal of pride in being able to look at a situation and doing the right thing, but there is a different feeling to it now. First of all, I don't have to do it at the expense of my own self, and it doesn't have some lower value for doing the right thing just because I haven't sacrificed anything for it. Now, though, I know I have a choice in anything I do, and that I can consider my own well-being just as much as I am considering everyone else's, at the same time. It's a relief to know, and a great thing to hold onto, and I am glad for the opportunity now to love myself in a way that I never have been able to before...

Cassandra

In a lot of my profiles, games, and such, I've taken on a screen name that has spoken highly of my desire to stand up for what is right, stand by my decisions, and stand against what may seem to be overwhelming opposition in the form of Orestes. The version, in order to fully clarify, that is told in Sartre's re-telling of the ancient Greek myth as stated in "The Flies."

Lately, I have felt more and more in touch with the myth of Cassandra. Cassandra was granted the gift of prophecy, but because she did not return love for Apollo, he twisted the gift into a curse. Thus she was given the gift of foresight, but without anybody ever believing her.

I am an extremely empathetic person in general, and I can see things several moves or steps in advance. The problem is that it doesn't do me any lick of good to see it. People need to go through their own processes, they need to learn each of their own lessons the hard way, and they need to do it all on their own, as help or guidance from somebody else just doesn't do much for anyone.

When the predictions are foretellings of doom, the "gift" becomes even more frustrating, because as much as people don't believe you despite the fact that you may have been right about something, I admit that I often HOPE that I am wrong. In those cases, it feels to me as if I'd rather have to eat crow than to witness the end result of a bad situation.

Recently, I just saw a piece of that very same situation, and I admit that I'm having a difficult time with my own feelings of powerlessness within the situation. It is incredibly difficult for me particularly, being able to see what somebody is going through, to love them deeply, and yet to know that you cannot do a single thing to either prevent them from the pain that they are going through, or to make it any easier to take the first step towards becoming a healthier person.

A while back, I had been accused of being excessively harsh with regard to my interaction with a particular person, somebody who I have loved very deeply. It had come to the point where it had impacted several of my friendships, and while I stood my ground, I had to wonder if perhaps I might actually be wrong about things. With a very recent phone call from one of those friends that confirmed what I had foreseen happening, I have to say that I take very little solace in knowing that I was right. What is the benefit? Where's the prize in it? That I still get to watch (albeit right now from a long distance) as somebody slowly destroys himself? To know the terrible pain that he is going through, knowing that there is absolutely nothing that I can do or say to make it any better?

As an activist particularly, it is even more difficult for me to be in this position. The whole point of activism for me, from the very beginning, was to NOT stand idly by while there is hope for a better tomorrow. And yet, any degree to which I will attempt to make the situation better would be potentially making the situation worse, with no hope of making it any better at all. It's almost as if it is some form of cosmic torture to have to be in this position. Wouldn't it be better to not know, so that I never have to think about it? Wouldn't I be better off if I was simply able to let go and not care? It's the caring, and the hoping, and the loving that make it all that much more difficult to wait for somebody to hit rock bottom before they're capable of working themselves up.

At the very least, I have this outlet. Hopefully it will take the edge off of my own psyche for a few days, perhaps even a couple of weeks. I hope. In the meantime, the only other thing I can say is that Matt, wherever you are, I love you and I hope that you start getting better soon...