Roller Coaster for Babies

Up, down, up, down...

I think I'm getting used to the cliched roller coaster that is my life. One week, I'm financially sound, healthy, happy, and hopeful; the next week, I'm sick, I'm broke and overdrawn, and I see no future and no way out of "this mess." No way out except to wait another week.

Then a friend leaves me a message on my voice mail asking me to tell her what I would need to be convinced of to change my mind about the war. Everything screeches to a halt.

Although her question was for a persuasion exercise she's doing for a class, she's done much much more by asking it. She's given me perspective - yet again.

My answer to her (followed by the perspective it gave me):

Got your message last night. I thought about this
all day today and I'm really stumped on how to answer. The problem is that
I'm not against the war, itself, but I'm against much much more than just the
war "on terror" in general.

I think many people like me feel this same disillusionment and hopelessness with regards to the country we love and the government we used to be so proud of. So much has surfaced, so much
evil that WE have done... that we continue to do in the name of democracy
that I no longer feel any ability to support my own country.

We have created the situation we now find ourselves in, and we continue to make it
worse by killing innocent people. Carloads of families - parents, children, grandparents - are murdered by U.S. soldiers simply because they did not know the rules and did not understand that they appeared to be a potential threat driving through a certain checkpoint on their way to a wedding or a
funeral or on the way to work. The surviving children will grow up to feel
the same way about what remains of the U.S. that the terrorists we fight today
feel. We create them. We are the monsters.

I think I would need to be convinced that we are contrite and aware of our
wrongdoing. I would need to be convinced that we are motivated to help
Iraq - no matter what - and that we will not desert her and leave yet another
country feeling victimized and betrayed by the United States.

Saddam Hussein is NOT paying for his crimes. This war punishes innocent people - whether it means to or not - by bring these "insurgents" from outside countries to Iraqi soil to fight us. The Iraqis
have been through enough. Now we bring our war to their home. Saddam is comfortable in a protected cell. If he is convicted of his crimes, any punishment he receives will be a blessing compared to what we have brought to the Iraqi children. What they are seeing and living with is not better
than what he did to them. It is only different. Yeah, so we have a
better motivation to be there "supposedly" - I bet they don't care about
anyone's motivation. They just don't want to die and watch their families
die anymore.

What could you say to convince me that we had any
right to do this now, as a result of the terrorist attacks on OUR soil?
Nothing.

Metaphor? We saw a gang hit our mother and
sister in a driveby shooting. In our grief we went and killed the innocent
family of a corrupt politician that we should have impeached long
ago.

It makes as much sense as the LA riots did. We are just
lashing out. We are not stopping or pursuing the terroists responsible for
Sept. 11th or many more horrible acts. We have just set up camp in Iraq
and invited them to the arena. We forgot people lived
there.

How's that for a rant? Did I make sense? I don't
know if this will help, but it's a very emotional version of my opposition right
now. I honestly don't know what could change my mind.

Okay, so I think I'm on a roller coaster. I think that a stubborn throat infection, a few hundred dollars of medical bills, and some stress about a temporarily overdrawn account makes for a bleak future?!!! If I saw me from the outside, right now, I would be disgusted.

No one is killing my family or my friends. I do not wonder who will be "in charge" of justice and law in my country tomorrow. I do not live with acceptance of fear and persecution and death. I do not leave my home sincerely hoping that I will come back alive and that my child will not die that day. Such thoughts are not part of my daily life.

My biggest problem is that I do not know how wonderful my life is. I take for granted all my wealth and my priviledge and my sheer luck to live where I live and to have what I have. I have done nothing to deserve any of this, but here I am. I am so removed from real problems that I think a bacterial infection is an issue.

Thanks for the perspective, Wendy - whether you meant to give it or not - you always seem to do that just when I need it. Hope your class goes well.

I'm tired but I don't sleep

Another night of better judgement cast to the wind as it is now after midnight and despite my exhaustion, I am up. I've decided to blog those thoughts that keep me from crawling into bed. Perhaps this outlet will give me satisfaction enough to be content to sleep.

I still owe a few of you your blogs. I love you and I miss you. Bear with me. Don't stop visiting yet. I have much to say to you about you.

Tonight my mind is full of answers and questions. Every answer in my life has lead to questions. Perhaps the standard order of things is screwed up. Our approach is all wrong. We should play answer and question games. Tests should be lists of answers requesting the questions they've inspired.

I have an interesting boss at my current job. I think he is a friend, but he keeps himself carefully controlled and keeps his cards to his chest. He is a brilliant man whom I admire, and I long for his friendship. Whatever else he is, he is a teacher. Bryan challenges me by ruffling my opinionated feathers. Much of what I would debate in his philosophy is yet too unknown for me to pick apart. It has been a long time since someone could present me with ideas I had never heard.

A conversation we had this evening after work has stayed with me.

But now even as I type this I do not think that I can put into words the concepts and new ideas that are attempting to take root in my head. This is a time to be still.

How I long to communicate even those things that cannot be expressed.

I read "Stillness Speaks" by Tolle and I hated it at first. Then, I calmed down and I could see the sense in some of what he wrote. Now, I cannot express my feelings on that either.

Is this change in me, yet again? Is this maturity?

I am becoming more calm these days (I know how that will disapoint some of you). My introspection's purpose is becoming less of a speech writing time and more of a truely private, in depth time of discovery.

In fact, it's so private that even I don't know what's going on yet.

So, I'm going to force myself to go to bed unsatisfied again. I have no new wisdom to share with my blog or with myself. Not because it is not there. Not because it is not becoming. But because it cannot be expressed.

Is this knowledge or a reboot of my mental hard drive?