Desires, Concepts, and Casualties

Society6
Veronika Weroni Vajdova

When there are too many thoughts in my head, I like to write like this. It's a little bit therapeutic, a little bit soul soothing.

It's chaos in order.

1. Desires

a. The husband and I have been talking about having kids. We vary in our opinions of when, and even how. I've always wanted to adopt at least one child and, before he met me, that idea never crossed his mind. 

b. I understand the desire of having your own children. Little mini-me's. Something that is of your own flesh and blood. Something that, in some ways, you have more control over as far as knowing what you're getting into from a family genetics perspective. 

None of that has ever mattered to me.  

c. My husband says I am a passionate person; that I become impassioned easily. That once I feel a certain way about something, it's full steam ahead. It's true.

The idea of adoption has been with me for as long as I can remember. Initially, I couldn't explain why. It was just a feeling. Now, while it still remains an urging and a desire, there is more. There is the understanding of how many children already exist in this world with nothing. No family, no safety or security. No idea of what belonging means.  

Children that do not know what it feels like to be loved.

d. I can't foretell how my life will play out. Adoption is not for everyone, which I understand. All I know is that in my bones I feel that someday, in some way, I will have a child that is not of my own creating.  

2. Concepts

a. As I grow to better understand the world, I also grow with more questions. I feel both certain and uncertain about aspects of how things are or how things should be, could be, might need to be. 

For instance, some say the world is overpopulated by the human race. If you look at the amount of humans that inhabit this precious planet, if you look at cities where people are crammed in together, if you consider the amount of resources needed (food, shelter, clean water) for the current population and predicted increases in population, it's hard to disagree. There are already masses of people who do not have their basic needs being met.

b. Thinking about that brings me back to procreation.  

Is it selfish to bring a child into a world knowing the capacity of our planet and knowing there are hundred of thousands (if not more) of familyless children already?  

c. Years ago, if someone could not conceive a child, they would either not have children at all or adopt. Now, with the advancements we've made, it's possible to have children even when your body isn't able to naturally. 

I know this is a sensitive subject, and I can greatly understand the desire to try at all costs. I have no negative feelings towards this, none whatsoever. But allow me a moment to play the devil's advocate.  

Nature has a way of controlling things. It's obvious when you look at animals, at insects, at flora and fauna. At how these things evolve, change, increase or decrease based on what needs to happen. When you really examine this, when you really consider the magnitude of what nature knows without the help of graphs or data, science or solutions, it's remarkable.  

The same applies to us. 

What if, for those who cannot have children, it's nature's way of helping us control the population? And not just control it, but help it. If you can't conceive on your own, you adopt. One less child without a family, one less family without a child. A simple mathematical equation. 

Nature is, according to research, stepping in in other ways as well.  

A friend of mine (who is gay) posted an article about an idea of why homosexuality might exist. The concept evolved entirely around population control. The idea was that when a species is overpopulated, our bodies make adjustments to help control the population in other ways. Homosexuality being one of them. Since a homosexual couple cannot conceive on their own, they don't add to the population and, in most cases, they help keep it in control by adopting. 

(Side Note: I don't need a reason for why homosexuality exists. I support LGBTQ people regardless. I just find this to be interesting.)

d. For over three decades, couples in China were only allowed one child. Now, they can have two. For obvious reasons, many people believe this is a violation of basic human rights. How dare a government tell people what to do with their own bodies!

But what if it comes down to that one day, in the future, because there are simply too many of us and not enough of everything else? Because we have bypassed nature with scientific advancements?  

And how does all of this tie into the never ending fight between Pro-Life and Pro-Choice? I won't even try to go into that here because it's just too big a topic.

I will broach the subject of genetic testing, though. Prior to this, parents had no way of knowing if their child would be born in perfect health or with some kind of illness or genetic disorder. Now, it's almost unheard of not to find out in advance. Often, when parents do, they are given the option of terminating the pregnancy. They are given the option of life or death with some degree of knowledge about what their life, and their child's, could look like given the test results.  

What does this say about our humaneness? 

Are we more kind by not wanting a small soul to suffer? Or are we less by not giving them a chance to prove us all wrong? 

This brings me to the next thought process.

3. Casualties

a. I dare you to name someone you know that doesn't have some sort of a disease or genetic disorder. Even the healthiest people have something wrong with them, no matter how small, which is why we're always looking for cures. We love our people and we want them with us for as long as possible. We want them healthy, well, able to enjoy the life they've been given.  

b. We also want them safe. We don't want to worry about car accidents or murderers. Natural disasters, like the terrible things that are happening in Texas. We want security in knowing the people we love are protected. This is why we have laws, governing agencies, seat belts, warnings.  

I understand all of this. I want all of this. 

c. I also understand, too much, that there is a balance and why it has to exist. Why we can never be free of disease, of accidents, of tragedy. What it would mean if we were; how many more of us would exist, how fewer resources we would have. How weird it is to realize why we have limits, but how accurate it is that we do. There is only so much of everything to go around. 

Imagine if everyone lived to a ripe old age- everyone. It's a beautiful idea, a lovely thought. It's what we strive for with research and science and testing, testing, testing.  

But would it ultimately ruin us in other ways? 

A lion must have prey to survive, the prey must have plants to survive, and each and every living thing must die in its own way. Is it fair to say that all these deaths are both tragic and necessary?

I don't know.  These are questions that may never be answered in my lifetime, or ever. 

Food for thought, all of this. Things to ponder.

Random Ramblings: Next Level

Photo Credit: Pinterest

Hi Folks,

I'm super swamped right now with wedding planning, and organizing myself, and mostly just trying not to die because it's so damn hot right now. Therefore, I'm going to take a little break from the blog. The Friday poems for The Reflection of Shadows will continue, but the Monday posts are on break with my brain. 

I leave you with this.
_

1. Origins and Knowledge and Failure

a. My eyelashes are naturally ombre. At the base they're brown, but then they go to blonde and then to such a light shade of blonde they're basically invisible at the tips. My best friend, Mascara, is a huge help in life because of this insanity. 

b. On a regular basis I get asked if my eyelashes are real because they are quite long. When I respond that they are, most people are super nice about it and compliment me on afore mentioned long eyelashes. However, a small percentage of people think I'm lying to them. I get that weird side-eye situation happening where they size me up and think to themselves, "Yeah, right."  It is odd and uncomfortable and I've debated carrying face wipes with me so I can swipe off one eye, then put more mascara back on just to prove myself to those weird, side-eyeing people. That's too much work, though, and I only work that hard for people who believe in me.

c. I find it odd how people think they know more about you than you know about yourself.  

One time a customer argued with me for a good 20 minutes about my heritage based on my last name. Me being me, I know the origin. It's Croatian. It looks Greek, I know that, but it's not, and I know exactly why. I know the story behind my name. The stranger, being a stranger, clearly knew nothing about me or my heritage. That didn't stop him from angrily telling me I was wrong, over and over and over and over, until he finally thought yelling at me would work. It didn't.  

d. I understand the desire to learn. I understand the desire to know things. I don't understand people who can't handle being wrong. The path to wisdom is trial and error. It's mistakes. It's being humble and continually learning learning learning through failing failing failing. Ever the student, never the teacher. This is the motto of the wise. 

e. The best compliment I ever received was: You'll be successful because you're not afraid. 

I am afraid. I'm afraid of spiders and werewolves and I hate static so very much that you might as well consider it a fear too.

I'm afraid of plenty of things, trust me.

The one thing I'm not afraid of is failing. 

I think it's one of the most important experiences you can have. I think it's how we learn the best. I think failure is a weapon in the war of life. It prepares you, arms you, readies you for battle. I think failure is a gift. 

2. Age

a. When I was in my early twenties and worked with people in their early thirties, I was surprised: they were just like me! For some reason I expected them to be less fun, boring, old, I guess. I expected them to be different than me, in so many ways. They weren't. 

Now that I'm in my early thirties I see this come full circle. I get it. I feel no different now than I did then, except for the fact that I could really use a nap pretty much every single day. Outside of being slightly older and slightly wiser, slightly altered by life lessons, I still remain as myself. Age is a funny thing.

b. When I was a kid, a friend of mine had a crush on me, and I on him. He was three years younger but we totally loved each other in that way only kids do. You know: he thought I had a nice singing voice and played the piano well and thought I was pretty, which was a totally new concept for me. Those were my serious ugly duckling years, so his love was real, you guys. Real. 

I thought he was all kinds of awesome bundled up in brown eyes and skin that was the perfect shade of sun-kissed no matter what time of year it was. He was the most thoughtful boy I knew. He had our future all mapped out- how many kids we were going to have, how many cars, and what our grownup life would look like together. I was pretty blown away by his commitment to us, needless to say.  

As I got a little older, that three year gap turned into a huge bridge that I no longer knew how to cross. 

I no longer understood "us" or if there really had been an "us" at all. I was so wrapped up in growing up and all the things that came with it, that my other life, which included him, fell completely away. We never talked about anything ever again. 

I never forgot, though. I never felt right about it either. I hate the idea of hurting people, especially the boy I once I loved (and was going to have at least four children with, according to his plans).

In my early twenties I wrote him a message. For so long I had been sure he hated me, for good reason, that I simply stayed away. However, to heal one's soul it's good to do things like make amends and apologize and set things as right as you possibly can, even if it's decades later. 

In my message I told him that he had been an important part of my life and I simply wanted him to know that, to know I appreciated him and was sorry I never said it all those years ago. Clearly, I was sorry for many things, but didn't know how to say all the words that needed to be said. I'm pretty sure the rest of the message was just a bunch of rambling nonsense. Awkward rambling nonsense that ended with hoping he was doing well, was happy, and had all the good things in life that he so very much deserved.

He never wrote back.

c.  I no longer view age the way I did back then. Younger, older, none of it matters. People are what matter.

d. This is something I learned with age. 

3. Normal Life

a. The more normal something is, the less normal I feel.

b.  Example: Wedding dress shopping is a kind of white dress hell for me. White, ivory, off-white, sand. I can't handle it, people!

I like color, I like not-just-white. I like everything outside of the eggshell/beige world. I love white on other people and I think there  are some seriously gorgeous dresses out there that are white, but that's not who I am.

I am not a white wedding dress girl.

c. White wedding dresses are a fairly new thing. This trend became popular in Western culture thanks to Queen V. back in the 19th century. Prior to that, women would wear dresses of all colors including black, crimson, and forest green. This was for many reasons; to show off their wealth as darker colors were considered rich not only in color but status, because buying a dress for one single day was unheard of, so they wore the nicest dress they owned, and because culturally, like in Asia, colored dresses are the norm. For instance, in India red is a traditional color to wear.

d. I knew I had an old soul. Pretty sure this proves it.

4. Normal Thinking

a. Whenever I'm thinking about something, it's always presented in my brain like a story. As if I'm telling a story to someone or writing a book.

b. I assume this isn't normal. I assume other people don't run around thinking in Story Telling Language all day every day like I do.

c. I assume, however, this might be normal for people like me who write, who love letters, who think continuously about how best to present the written word. I assume this means I'm on the right track in life. 

There's clearing a lot of assuming happening here. 

5. Poetry

a. Poetry is one of the greatest loves of my life. It never fails to impress me, the way words can make a person feel, the endless options of combining this and that to form just the right sentence, the way writing something down feels like freeing your soul. Ah, poetry. I heart you. 

b. I write a lot of poetry that deals with the darker things in life. Sadness, anger, loss, death. I don't actually do that on purpose, it's just what I'm drawn to. I appreciate all the emotions of life, but for me it's important to understand the 'why' behind the ones that so many people try to escape. Often, I do that best through pen and paper, regardless of the situation, whether it's a first hand account or something happening to a friend, in the world, etc. 

c. Don't get me wrong, happy, funny, loving poems are fantastic. I enjoy writing those as well. I just think my particular gift, if I can call it that, is to unearth the jewels that lie hidden in the darkness. To stare anger and sadness squarely in the face and figure out the lesson to be learned. To understand sadness so that I can then better understand happiness. 

I hope when people read my poems, they sense this. The living and learning, feeling and understanding. That darkness is essential in finding the light.

6. Change

a. I'm at a point in my life right now where I feel like change is taking place. Or needs to take place. Like right now is the exact moment I need to put time and energy into...something. I haven't figured the something out yet. I'm not sure if it's career related, if it's because of the upcoming wedding with the one day kids, or if it's simply that I need a new color of paint in the bathroom. Whatever it is, it's waiting for me to find it.

b. This same feeling hit me at the same time in my life, 10 years ago. Looking back, I can see it like a movie. The feeling that I needed to do/be/learn/try/become something else. The yoga class I took over and over and over at the community college, because it spoke to me for reasons I couldn't understand. The day a substitute teacher came to class and talked about something called SWIHA. The questions in my head about what the heck SWIHA meant, and the questions I eventually asked her after class. The answer.  

The enrollment in this college, SWIHA, the Southwest Institute of Healing Arts.  The yoga teacher training program I signed up for, just because. The holistic nutrition classes I took on a whim. The psychology degree that followed. All the little changes over the course of those couple of years where I learned so many things about myself. 

c. If I look back another 10 years prior, I can see this same pattern. This feeling, this change, the outcome. Each and every time before, amazing things eventually came out of the change. Figuring out what I needed to do, how I needed to do it, that was the hard part. A painful, time consuming process that eventually led to better. Everything better.  

d. I saw this quote the other day. I think this is one of many clues I'm supposed to be looking for right now. One of many puzzles pieces, pointing me in the right direction as I try to put each and every piece in place. 

Photo Credit: Pinterest

e. I'm going out with lanterns, looking for myself.

Wish me luck.

SaveSave

Random Ramblings

Society6
LouiJoverArt

1. Sometimes it's more fun to write like this. Random, yet structured. Sometimes the creative juices flow better. Sometimes it gives me ideas.

2. I used to have a Facebook page called Random Ramblings on Nothingness. I don't know why.

3. I strongly dislike #hashtags.

a. I use them, because I understand what they're intended to do, but I only use them occasionally for #fun or #strategically. 

b. I think hashtags have gotten out of control. They're running around wild on social media like teenagers without parental supervision. #makinguprandomhashtagsallthetimejustbecausewecan 

c. All of that being said, I appreciate and get a kick out of funny hashtags, such as what this gentleman did:

#YouMakeMeLaugh #ThankYou #ThisIsAnExampleOfFunnyHashtagUse
#Otherwise #Quit #Hashtagging #Everything #Because #It's #Pointless

 4. Everything changes, even perception.

a. Kate Winslet was considered fat when Titanic came out. I just watched the movie the other day. She was (still is) gorgeous. What was the world thinking back then? She was breathtaking.

b. This is how we treat ourselves. We look back at old photos and think, "I was so thin, beautiful, perfect." You were. You are now. You never realize it in the moment. Change is what makes us realize these things.

5. Lesson of the Day: In Chinese, Chi Ku means: To eat bitterness, the ability to go through difficult times.

6. My favorite shape is quatrefoil. It reminds me of India, of certain places in Asia, of far off places that have gorgeous buildings, spicy food, and kind people. If my heart had a shape, it would be this. You know, outside of the normal shape it actually has in real life.

7. I don't have a favorite color. I have many colors that are my favorites. Cerulean, mink, cobalt. Almost any shade of green. Most shades of gray. Lavender. Red.

a. I also enjoy the absence of color. Black and white are spectacular.

8. Authentic. This is one of my favorite words. It means: genuine, true, reliable. It goes right along with honesty, which I value above most other qualities in a person. Kindness, too. Kindness is King, honesty Queen.

9. Being Internet Famous. That's such a weird concept to me, yet what am I doing with a blog, right? What are any of us doing when we care about how many likes, re-tweets, or favorites we get? Ten tiny years ago none of that mattered. What will matter in ten more?

10. I just found out I have a mutated gene. Guys, I am an X-Men. I'm waiting for my powers to surface.

a. My super power of choice would be: being fluent in every language known to man. Maybe the ones not known to man as well. All languages everywhere. I want to speak, write, understand every single one of them.  

b. Did you know there are cases of people who wake up and can suddenly speak other languages? How many times do I have to get hit in the head for that to happen? Because I've got to be at least half way there. 

c. My defective gene is the MTHFR. You know what's fun? Blaming everything on it. "I'm tired. It's gotta be that Mother Effer! Tripped again, doggone Mother Effing gene!" See what I did there? 

11. In the year 2016 we still have racism, inequality, discrimination, gangs, rape, and now we have a problem with people shooting everyone just because they feel like it. Is this how you pictured the year 2016? It seems like so much of this should be ancient by now, past tense, resolved. Things we read about in books and ponder, wondering how in the world people lived during these times, got away with these crimes, why it took so long before change happened. I wonder what 2030 will look like.

12. "A man without tattoo's is invisible to the Gods." - Iban Proverb

a. Tattoos: one of the greatest things ever created, in my opinion. I love their origins, where and why they started. What they used to stand for religiously, culturally, spiritually. What they also stand for now: rebellion, fun, art. I find it odd and amusing how misunderstood they are, we are, those of us with the tattoos who are judged by those without. 

b.  I've loved tattoos my entire life. When I was a little kid I begged my mom to buy me the fake Lisa Frank glitter tattoos - the Easter edition, specifically. I very clearly remember being at the store, certain my entire little kid life would end if I didn't get those fake tattoos. After I finally wore her down and she got them for me, I spent the next several weeks debating over where those tattoos were going to go on my body as if they were real, permanent, forever. As if the glittery little easter bunny would be on my ankle until I died. 

c. I have seven. They're mostly quotes or poems in different languages. I'm getting a few more this year. This is how they hit me, in waves. Nothing for years, then a few at a time. Placement - where I'll be wearing this piece of art forever - is as important to me today as it was way back then. Placement is crucial. 

13. Passion; noun. A strong and barely controllable emotion.

a. Whenever I get really passionate about something, I either learn everything I can about it or, like in the case of the gluten free taquitos that I just found at Some Burros, I eat them allllll the time until that passion subsides and I go back to being a normal person again.

b. Fangirling is like that. Fandoms, in general, are like that. The psychology behind why we become obsessed with people (or movies, characters, etc.) is interesting business, friends. Do you really know why you're a fan? 

c. The Fiance took me to an Andy Black show the other night for my birthday because I recently became a fangirl of his. We had special meet and greet passes and, up until I actually met him, I was a completely normal, calm, collected human being. The second I met him everything went to hell in a hand basket. I don't remember making eye contact, I forgot everything I was going to say, and I'm pretty sure I was the weirdest I could have ever possibly been. I also looked like a mess because we'd been standing out in the heat for an hour and it had rained the day before, so my naturally crazy hair was doing special spiral swirls everywhere.

I should mention the room was filled almost entirely with teenage girls- that only talked about Andy and how good looking he was and how blue his eyes are and how awesome his hair is. Not that I blame them, he's a babe. There was a lot of screaming, like, a lot. At one point, my own inner fangirl lost her damn mind and screamed along with them when he announced a song he was going to sing. I scared The Fiance. I scared myself.

Never have I felt more ancient in my life. It's cool, I made friends with a sixteen year old. We hung out. She's infinitely more cool than I ever was at that age and probably will ever be.

14. Sometimes the answer is in the absence: Of sound, thought, action. People.

15. History is important. It isn't always told accurately, honestly, or factually. We hurt not only ourselves when we forget and/or alter what has happened in the past, we hurt the future- our future. The generations to come. We learn from mistakes, the ones we make personally, professionally, as a society. If we try to conceal them, we risk repeating them. We've already done this, over and over and over. History is important.