Things I Don’t Understand


Confusion (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Every day I just get more confused. I don’t understand . . .

  • why who someone loves and chooses to spend his/her life with makes any difference to other people
  • why it matters more who you know than who you are
  • why money means more than who you are
  • why women are still perceived as not equal
  • why men are so afraid of women’s power
  • why we are forced to “opt out” rather than “opt in”
  • why my body, and what I do with it, has anything to do with anyone but myself and my family
  • why there are so many women who support the subjugation of other women (as long as their individual power is not touched, of course)
  • why poverty is blamed on the poor, when the system works against them
  • why the rich get richer and the middle class disappears
  • why racism still exists in a world where the only difference between races is color of skin
  • why being different is seen as something bad
  • why certain beliefs should be seen as more right than others. I simply don’t believe that. What I believe is what I believe. What you believe is what you believe. And as long as those beliefs don’t hurt each other, that shouldn’t be a problem. But now, it seems that in some belief systems it is perfectly acceptable and encouraged to hurt anyone who believes differently.
  • why all the foods that are bad for you taste so good
  • why I usually like my nurse practitioners more than I like my doctors
  • why I can accomplish more when I have more to do, and I can’t seem to write when I give myself a break from blogging daily.

All these questions and more floated through my head today as I had a sort of surreal medical experience. (Sorry guys, if you don’t want to read about women’s issues, stop here).

I lay on the table at the OB/GYN, legs in stirrups, as my wonderful new Nurse Practitioner exchanged my expired birth control for a new one. Now, that’s not unusual, except that this was happening in the environs of what I assumed was a Catholic hospital.

“Is this a Catholic hospital?” I asked.

“Yes it is.”

“So how are you able to do this?”

“We got special permission. These things can only be done within these four walls,” she said, indicating the small suite of examination rooms we were in. “If you wanted it done in the greater hospital, it couldn’t happen. We don’t even have access to hormones there.”

Surreal, isn’t it?

I suppose the battles between religion vs. science, common sense vs.  faith,  believers vs. non-believers, owners vs. workers, powerful vs. powerless, etc. will continue on ad infinitum until humankind destroy’s itself completely.

I suppose that makes sense, but I still don’t get it. Can anyone explain?

Achieving “Fortytude”

It’s a little challenging trying to write Hubs to get some kind of writing “career” (for lack of a better term) started, but wanting to write here, for the wonderful community of connections that I have been building. Today, for example, I wanted to share with you the lucky serendipity of my discovery of the book by Sarah Brokaw called Fortytude: making the Next Decades the Best Years of Your Life–through the 40s, 50s, and Beyond but I also realized how much it fit into my series of Reinventing Self posts on the HubPages. So, I decided to do both, allowing this post to become the more personal exploration of the topic and the other to be a little more generic. If you are interested in both, here is the link to “How to Reinvent Yourself: Living Life with ‘Fortytude'”

But enough business. I do suggest you go out and read this book, because it is making me rethink a lot of things about life. I plan on exploring a lot of the questions it is forming over the next few days, and knowing me I’ll do it right here in the blog for all to share. As soon as I started reading, I found myself scribbling notes frantically as thoughts and questions blossomed into my brain. I haven’t finished reading yet, but have filled front and back of three large note cards with things I want to write about. I wanted to share a picture of them, but for some reason I am being defeated by technology today. So instead, I am going to share some of the notes and questions I’ve written down. If they inspire you, please feel free to explore them in your own writing, and let me know or share the link below in the comments:

  • Brokaw writes about “sparkling moments” which, to her are moments that often get the label of problems. She suggests that “sparkling moments” provide “opportunities to change, experiment, push yourself, grow, and learn new skills” (3) I want to explore the sparkling moments that exist in my life.
  • “Why do I . . . allow myself to be undermined by the very values I choose not to ascribe to?” (Brokaw 7)
  • How do I exhibit grace in my life? What does grace mean to me?
  • Write about a time when I was told that I was not “good enough” and how that changed my life completely.
  • What defines my femininity?
  • What are the “sprinkles” in my life? (According to one of the women Brokaw interviewed in the book “Adding a few sprinkles to your ice cream made all the difference in the world. Sprinkles change your mind-set.”

  • How do I feel connected and establish connections? (Part of that answer exists in the very nature of this blog)
  • How do I define a quality friendship?
  • What does mentoring mean to me?
  • What does it mean to be an accomplished woman? What am I accomplished at? What is accomplishment? (This one is a really important one for me to explore).
  • Am I good enough? Why don’t I feel good enough? Will I ever be good enough?
  • What does the word career even mean to me?
  • When I am 90, what will I regret?
  • Be creative with definitions of what I do well. I need to define myself in new ways.
  • What is adventure? What does adventure mean to me? How do I define it?
  • What is my body telling me?
  • What would I love to do if age has no meaning. This comes from a discussion in the book about Blame Sally, a rock band started by women in their 40s and 50s and succeeding against all odds.

There you have it my friends, a babbling list of questions that will hopefully inspire future posts–for myself and perhaps for a few of you as well.

More later. Thanks for reading.



What If . . . ?

3D Character and Question Mark

What if you woke up one morning to discover all your dreams had come true? Would you create new dreams? I would, because life without dreams sounds boring to me.

What if you found out that everyone had only 6 months to live? That is the premise of the book I am reading, On the Beach by Nevil Shute, a post-apocalyptic story that takes place in the early 1960’s after the entire Northern hemisphere has destroyed itself through nuclear war. The radiation is slowly making its way South while the people there wait aware that their time is short. Sounds depressing, doesn’t it? Well, in a way it is, in a way it is also very beautiful. Reading this made the words “what if” pop into my head, leading to this post. So what if this really happened? How would your spend your remaining time?

“What if . . . ?” is the basis of all stories, large and small. It is the basis of understanding ourselves.

What if the world came to its senses and stopped trying to destroy each other in ways big and small? Would we actually have a peaceful existence? I don’t think so. Part of the joys and pains of being human is that we have the freedom to think and believe as we want. So while I daily wish for some sanity in the ranks of government, or for sense that allows people health care and equal marriage rights, and all that; I recognize that we will never all agree. If we did, we would simply find another battle to fight, another argument to wage, another “us vs. them.”

The question “What if . . .?” opens worlds of possibilities, while at the same time uncovers hidden truths.

“What if . . .?” is the question. Writing, is the answer.

%d bloggers like this: