Day 277: Dreaming Up What's Forgotten

It is said that dreams are our way of working things out in our unconscious mind. I believe this and often find that whatever has been especially worrying me will someone be spotlighted in my dreams. Sometimes I am surprised by the direction that takes my nocturnal mind, as dreams stretch the boundaries of the plausible. Even so, I’m willing to buy almost any elaborate stage show my mind puts on without question. When I do start to worry and wonder, however, is when I dream something troubling that I did not know was even on my mind. Things I thought I’d already worked out in my conscious mind are apparently still starring in their own dream tributes and it makes me wonder why I wasn’t thinking about it more.

Clearly, if I’m dreaming about it I’m thinking about it, right? Well yes and no. As any insomniac like me can tell you, the brain races without end. When you think you’re focused in on one thought pattern, the sudden mental appearance of a seemingly random topic alerts us that maybe only our consciousness is zeroed in on one thing, and the rest of mind is busy sifting through and examing any number of mental conflicts. So maybe you are thinking, “Mmm, pizza,” but it’s a sure bet that you are also thinking “I probably shouldn’t have bought those shoes . . . tomorrow I really need to clean the bedroom . . . did I remember to flush the toilet” or some similar stream of consciousness barrage.

So that brings us back to dreams and the fact that they can sometimes bring up emotional landmines you thought you’d disposed of. Ask me how I feel about my Mother’s untimely death and I will tell you that it is hard every single day, but that I do not focus on the loss anymore and prefer to remember the laughter and love. Flash forward to my dreams and out of nowhere I dream an old favorite from the first year after she passed: She’s alive, but somehow being torn apart from me, usually physically as we get separated or one of us is forced to go on a dangerous journey. I wake from these dreams sobbing and while the sense of sadness and loss is not new or a surprise the mere fact that after ten years I’m still having that dream is.

I am left to wonder what it all means. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything other than that the constant barrage of emotions and experiences we are under from birth to death are cycling and recycling through our unconscious mind. Then again, maybe it means that I’m still obsessing over something I thought I moved beyond. Could it be that the only reason we ever “move on” is because the unconscious helps us out by taking on the burden of those negative or troubling thoughts/feelings and works on them for us? It’s like our own personal therapist helping us to be okay with life, only it’s off the clock. Whatever it is, while it does occasionally blindside me, it also serves as a reminder that nothing is ever truly gone forever and that I, much like life itself, am a work in progress.

Day 276: Tell Me About Your God, No Really, I Have Questions

In the past, I have written a few blogs touching on religion. My personal beliefs aside, one thing I continue to wonder about is how it’s supposed to work. Even when I did believe in a God, I guess I never looked at it the same way others seem to. It’s the mechanics of the thing that I can’t seem to wrap my head around and the questions I’m about to ask are meant in all seriousness, not with sarcasm. Well, it is me, so some might be laced with sarcasm. God is an esoteric concept that most people think of as concrete fact so I’d like to ask all you true believers how the God show is supposed to work.

First off, where is heaven? I mean, is it an actual place and if so, could get there in a really fast spaceship? Or is heaven right here, but on a different plane so we cannot actually see it until we kick? And if it’s just sort of hiding in another dimension or something, are we people when we go there, like, do we look like ourselves and have some sort of transparent body that’s not really matter? Or do we pass into a different form of energy when we die, but keep our conscious which maybe projects the appearance of bodies and a physical place called heaven, when we are actually just some sort of supernatural vapor in a other dimensional vapor heaven kind of thing?

Do you ever wonder if the reason you believe in God is simply because it’s what you’ve been taught to believe. If God is a fact, yet one nobody has ever seen then the only way you believe now is because society and your parents told you to or else you believe there was some innate force in your mind/soul that made you believe. Does that make sense? I mean, if you were born and raised in a community that no one ever spoke about a God and you’d never heard of religion do you think you would still be a believer somehow? Of something you’d never heard of?

Following that logic, do you not agree that God and religion must be man made? I’m not even talking about the actual existence. I mean, possibly God does exist, but our notion of religion and God is man made because it was told to a man who told another man, etc. If you lived somewhere without access to it, you’d not be a believer – so do you think such people are doomed to hell despite the fact that they’ve simply never been offered the opportunity to believe or not believe?

Another question I have is what do you think God looks like? He is a big white old guy with a flowing beard? A George Burns type figure? If you were God, would you choose to look old or more like George Clooney? Also, how do you explain that most in the Western world believe God is a white guy? If I buy the story of Jesus and God, etc., then doesn’t logic follow that God would not be white? I mean, you do know where Jerusalem is, right? Chances aren’t good that God would be white. One more news flash along that line, Jesus didn’t have blue eyes.

I have so many questions. What about the old testament? Do people actually believe in an arc? That was the OT right? Do people believe Lott’s wife turned into a pillar of salt? If the OT stories are now considered to be parables, then how do you insist the new testament is fact? What else? Oh, why do you tell your sins to a dude instead of just confessing to the man upstairs himself during your nightly prayers? I mean, you do realize that a priest/minister/rabbi/etc. is giving you penance that he or she makes up in accordance to what he or she thinks is appropriate. The man/woman of the cloth might have more experience, but there is not a sin to penance guideline laid out in the Bible, so couldn’t you just sort of do that yourself? It seems weird.

Finally, how do Christians, Muslims, Jews, you name it excuse the misogyny that seems ever present in their religious texts? Do you believe that your God actually felt women, a . . . um, species, he created was inferior and deserved to be treated as such? Why would an all-powerful God create such a creature on purpose? Is it not more likely that since the Bible, Qur’an, Tanakh, etc., were written by men that they just made men better?

I don’t get a lot about your beliefs and I keep wanting to ask my priest father-in-law, but he can be kind of pompous about this shit and I fear it would annoy me enough to finally blurt out that I’m a nonbeliever. So I leave it to, beloved readers, to help me understand how I die, but then have a body that goes to a heaven that either exists in a real place or doesn’t. It’s all a little foolish and completely irrational to me and I find that I often surprised that other rational people actually believe it, but then I remember that it wasn’t long ago that I too believed. I just never understood the traditional beliefs, so explain it to me. Explain to me as if I were a small child, because honestly, I’m having a hard time picturing what you all seem to take for granted.

Day 275: I'm Right, You're Wrong . . . but I Still Like You!

I think I’m right a lot and to be honest I really like that feeling. There is a small part of me I try not to recognize that realizes I am very often, if not more often, actually in the wrong. The best thing about opinions on complex issues, however, is that there is not factual right or wrong. It means there is room for all of us, even the “us” we love to hate. I have a friend from high school that Facebook reconnected me with and she is about as close to a 180 from me as possible. It would be so easy to write her off and stay insulated in my little bubble of rightness, but I like her and as much as I disagree, I like that she has opinions (even if they’re wrong – kidding).

To be honest, the reason I probably did not write her off is the fact that she accepted me despite knowing that I do not believe in what is probably her most treasured belief: her faith in God. She knows I am an atheist and it doesn’t scare her or make her think I’m a bad person or even cause her to try to “save” me. She just disagrees and maintains her faith without apology for it or a judgment toward me. I think in some ways Facebook is helpful in these situations because it lets us get to know one another in snippets. If this friend and I met in real life after all these years, we might never have bonded. I likely would have labeled her a Jesus freak and she’d probably assume I was hateful and close-minded toward anyone who holds her beliefs.

I believe we have a responsibility to one another to accept, if not agree. True, I’m never going to fully respect those people who mostly live in the middle and are neither educated, nor open to learning, but those are people I merely accept as fellow humans not people I want to get to know. My big thing in life is simply to have an opinion and to back it up with a little research that isn’t completely biased to your way of thinking. I admit I sometimes spout off instinctively, but I’m willing to acknowledge once my momentum slows. I dislike people who refuse to take a side as much as those who only give time to their side. If you listen to and form your opinions solely from your Rush Limbaugh or Michael Moore outlet, you’re an ass. Have an opinion, but make an effort to see the other side fairly and then craft an argument to dispute their points and support your own.

My friend and I will never see eye to eye on most things, but I have no doubt that should we ever actually be together again in person we will have a great time. I disagree with almost every opinion she has on political issues, but that’s okay too. Where we go wrong is to confuse opinion with character. My whole family is religious and they haven’t disowned me yet – though I don’t exactly wear a “God doesn’t exist – rational thought does” t-shirt when I’m around them. Still, most people in my life accept that I am opinionated and not all of them think like me (though I sometimes would prefer if they did). Sometimes opinions run so deep that issue based discussions can ruin a friendship. So maybe the answer is to sometimes just accept the person and love them for who they are, not what they think.

Day 274: Could My Business be Your Business?

So I’m sitting at the bar of a restaurant with the husband and he points out that the couple next to us have their two small children on their laps AT THE BAR. This is slightly annoying to us both as we purposely sit in the bar to get away from the noise and chaos of dining families. Even so, I shrug and start to turn away, until I notice the two martinis the bartender has just put down in front of them both. I can’t believe they are drinking martinis and then driving their kids home I comment and the husband points out that it’s really none of our business. I guess, but I don’t know, isn’t it? So many of the things we all claim to be our personal business actually affect or have the potential to affect the lives of others. Just because we are not directly involved does that mean we do not have a right to an opinion or even to step in, if we feel the situation warrants it?

Bartenders have the right, and in fact the obligation, to refuse to overserve an intoxicated patron. In a way, could you not claim it’s none of his or her business? A parent smoking a cigarette in the presence of his or her child or sitting in the smoking section with their minor children is their affair, right? When I waited tables years ago I saw a lot of parents set the carriers of their sleeping infants, on top of the table and then proceed to blow smoke across the top of them. I never said anything because I needed my job, but I felt like I had the right. They aren’t my kids, but someone needs to advocate for them. In 50 years when those kids are suffering from second-hand related illnesses and our tax dollars are helping to pay their medical bills, you might feel it’s your business.

Pet owners who do not spay or neuter and then indiscriminately let those animals outside to potentially breed are doing us all a disservice. Yes, those are their pets, but we’re all saddled with the ever-expanding unwanted pet population. So yeah, it’s my damn business. The pregnant woman that drinks has the right to do what she chooses. While many people might believe it is never okay, current research suggests that restrained consumption of beer or wine is not particularly harmful. Does this mean breeders should be knocking back martinis or grain alcohol, probably not, but can you be sure what they are drinking or how much? When do we have the right to an opinion?

I’m not suggesting any specific right or wrong answer to these scenarios, but it is notable that we’re constantly being confronted with things we might feel are wrong, but conflicted because they are none of our business. Maybe we need to redefine what makes something our business. We’re not an isolated society anymore, or a small village nation. We are enmeshed in this big, complicated world and maybe it’s okay that preggers has a glass of wine without your judgment. Maybe your friend with the cat they won’t neuter then let outside to roam should not be a pet owner. Maybe you can just say no this one time to knocking one back with your spouse if one of you needs to drive the bambinos home.

You want to smoke? Knock yourself out, but do it someplace private and not around others who cannot choose for themselves to leave the room. Our decisions do impact others just as our judgment does. There are not many clear answers, because we rarely have all the facts. Maybe those martinis I saw those two parents drinking were virgins, put into fancy glasses, maybe the pregnant woman I thought was just having a small glass of wine, was draining the bottle, maybe we should all keep our mouths shut and our opinions to ourselves. Still, I keep thinking about that bar patron who doesn’t get cut off by the concerned bartender, then drives home and on the way kills a family when he hits them head on. Yes, I’m opinionated, but opinions aren’t always bad things and sometimes “your” business affects more than you.

Day 273: Can You be Your Spouse's Biggest Cheerleader When You Don't Like the Game He Plays?

Work can be great. Work parties can be great. Then again, you could be in the military and cordially “invited” to mandatory “parties” that take time away from your family and personal life when you’re already working fifteen-hour days. Welcome to my husband’s life and the one I share with him. I’m sure many people have the same type of problem at their office, I’ve had to deal with it myself, the difference is that we’re talking one or two a year, not nonstop. I don’t want to complain, but we only see one another Friday-Sunday nights, so when he ends up having to stay at Fort Bragg for a weekend shindig it means we don’t get to have our time together. We don’t fight, but we frequently bruise one another when it comes to his career. It makes me wonder how you can be your spouse’s biggest cheerleader if you don’t like the game he plays?

The military owns you 24 hours a day so you don’t get to decide that you would prefer to go to your kid’s soccer game, or church, or in our case see your wife. He’s gone to eight or more of these forced social gatherings in the last six weeks and more than half are on days that he should be here with me. I want to be supportive of him, but we have major differences in how we view his career. This is the only thing he’s ever done. It’s paid for both his undergrad and grad degrees and pays our bills currently, so I cannot say I’m 100% ungrateful. The problem is that I don’t like to be told what to do, and in this situation I am being forced to follow orders and I’m not the one in the Army.

Jeff is not a fan of every aspect of his job – who is—but he has been in long enough to understand the political side of it and the extreme time commitment military service requires. I find it difficult to express my displeasure about the infringement on our life without judging the military itself. What if your spouse was a criminal defense attorney and helped legitimately guilty violent criminals go free? You still love your wife or husband, but you can hate that part of their job, can’t you? The sheer time commitment Jeff has devoted to the Army is commendable. This is not a 9-5 job or part time passion. He’s a career officer and for the most part he loves his job. I want and need him to know I am proud of him. I tell him, probably not enough, but I do tell him. What I don’t do is show him by shutting the hell up.

I’m not the typical Army wife and to an extent I do not want to be involved in his job. I treat it like any other career and maintain my distance the way we all do in the civilian workforce. The military is not a traditional office and while my head gets it, my emotional rationality does not. Each social engagement he is forced to go to we also have to pay for. If you’re going out with buddies and having a great time you don’t think twice about paying for your food or drink of course. If you don’t want to go, don’t like or want the food, and are not drinking your weight in Budweiser it seems ridiculous that you’d have to pay for it. Then again, I’m thinking like a civilian. Jeff never complains, I guess I do enough of that for the both of us.

Bottom line, we all want our partners to be proud of us and supportive. I’m not sure what it says about me that I am having trouble with this. There is so much bureaucracy in the military lifestyle and my natural tendency is to push back, but I think at some point you have to swallow your medicine and pretend you like it. I can always tell my boss to shove it, doing that in the military can get you more than fired. I will endeavor to be more supportive and keep my comments to myself. It will likely give me headaches, nausea, and acid reflux, but I’m going to try. I may not be a good Army wife, but the least I can do is to try to just be a good wife, period.

Day 272: The Mutilation of Coconut (my cat)

I don’t want to mutilate animals, especially not my new kitten. All my research leads me to conclude that I must be an animal abuser, but my rational mind is screaming that it’s not true. I have managed to raise two cats who seemed happy and healthy and neither of them ever seemed to hate me for my alleged mutilating abuse. I admit that I have had two cats declawed (only in the front!) and that despite all the accusatory articles out there telling me not to, I am considering doing it again. Gasp! What exactly is our obligation in the world to the animal population and more specifically, to our pets?

I’ve had the new kitten for two months now and I’m still not fully attached to her. She’s sweet and adorable and goofy as hell, but she’s also an aggressive killer. She has torn the husband and I up repeatedly with her damn claws and bit me so badly once that it became infected and I ended up dropping $150 at the doctor to keep my finger from falling off. I want to do right by her and that means not subjecting her to an unnecessary medical procedure, but if it is keeping me from fully bonding with her, then isn’t it in her best interest too?

In case you don’t know, declawing a cat is a major procedure and involves the amputation of the toe up to the first knuckle. This can cause behavioral problems as the cat might feel less secure and become more defensive and it can also lead to joint pain due to changing the way the cat walks and causing postural problems. On one hand, it’s a lot like circumcising Junior: not at all necessary for health reasons, but more convenient for you. When I had the first two cats declawed it was fifteen years ago and no one in Indiana even mentioned that it might be cruel. Flash forward to now and I am old enough and aware enough to know on my own that it is unnecessary and inhumane. So why do I still want to do it?

First, the husband is pressuring me and doesn’t really buy into the cruelty aspect. I tell him all the time he’s a horrible person, but he doesn’t believe me and stalks around kicking puppies at every opportunity. Saintly animal activist that I am, I actually care for the poor defenseless cats and think I’m being selfish, except for one thing. Coconut is an aggressive six pounds of fur who attacks any moving target with 100% fury, regardless if the target is a toy, feet, hands, head or any part of the body that might move during sleep. I currently have scars on my foot, wrist, both hands, thigh, shoulder and a place I’d rather not mention – but here’s a tip, never pick up a scratching cat without first putting on a shirt. So I’m not worried about furniture, I’m worried that if something is not done to prevent the painful attacks, our relationship is never going to fully develop.

I want to love her, she’s a six pound ball of purring softness, but she also has razor like claws and teeth, both with unbelievable accuracy at finding their target. I’m scared of holding her at times and I have to continually kick her out of the bedroom when I sleep so she does not accidentally do real damage to my eyes or face. So is it more or less humane to declaw her in an effort to improve our relationship (and hopefully going to last 15 years or more)? She deserves a loving owner who is not frightened of her, but at what price? I don’t want to be just another human who believes I am superior to all other creatures and exploits them at my discretion. Then again, I also want to go a day without bleeding.