Seafarer

I'd like to believe I am open to change. That overall I am a forward thinking person ready to adapt to evolving situations and new opportunities that come my way. And generally, this is true. But when major change comes along (such as making a decision to move cross country again) or something totally new presents itself to me, the dark fear monster raises it's ugly head and nags.

"I happen to like things just the way they are," I defensively think. I've got a good thing going, why should I change it? Don't people always say the grass isn't always greener on the other side? Besides, my mother always told me the devil you know is better than the devil you don't. And thus, the cycle begins.

I'm like a toddler in a candy store refusing to leave. Internally, I'm throwing a full blown temper tantrum with arms and legs flailing at hyper speed. I'm screaming at the top of my lungs that I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE! And even if someone does buy me the new Hollywood Barbie, I'm still probably not moving. So there! (followed by a literal forceful sticking out of my tongue)

Fear takes over, I begin to feel like a child, and I'm too anxious to make a move. Most of the time, my rational self comes back into the picture and has the ability to talk logic to my terrified, four-year-old self.

"Change has always been good to you," my logical self soothingly promises. "Most life changing events have been very positive and you are glad you took the leap!"

As I begrudgingly give into my rational thoughts, I realize this is true. I've embraced a lot of change over the years, and most, if not all, have actualized a positive experience. I start to remember that I do, in fact, like change. That I am ready for something new. I'm going to tackle the unknown head-on and jump with both feet first without even looking back for a split second glance!

"But things are great the way they are. Do you really think you'll get so lucky again?" doubt asks. "Or are you going to screw up the perfect balance you have going, and end up regretting this change?"

And so it continues, and sometimes much longer than I care to admit. But eventually I come around and realize that adapting to change is a process. I am definitely open to it, albeit in a highly guarded fashion, and I understand the importance of evolving. Getting stuck is far more terrifying than trying something new.

So with the help of my ever-loving, patient husband and my good natured, opinionated parents, I'm usually able to navigate the rough seas of change. Not only do they make the process so much more enjoyable, but they help me appreciate the positive impact it has on my life afterwards.

an obstacle called vagina

I never thought of my vagina as a hindrance to achieving my goals.  I was raised by a progressive, forward thinking, feminist family that encouraged me to reach for the stars.  They promised that if I put in the effort and received an education, I could do and become anything I wanted.  I set my sights high at a young age and imagined myself as the first female President of the United States.  I envisioned future me as a type of Wonder Woman with the world at my feet.  I could do anything, Mom and Dad really did say anything, I wanted!

So, I busted my ass in school.  I took my grades very seriously and reached to the top of my class.  I graduated from college as Summa Cum Laude and set out to make a difference.  Naturally reality set in along the way, and I slowly became aware of the glass ceiling and unequal pay that existed for many women in the workforce.  Introduced in academic lecture halls, and later discussed feverishly at dinners with friends and colleagues, this issue was a regular talking point.  But it never felt real to me.  It was always an intangible, that although outraged me to no end, I never fully believed this problem existed.  I thought it was leftover from the past and would eventually disappear.  Surely, by the time I established my career it would be a non-issue.  I was trying to fool myself into believing that it couldn't happen to me.  But it has... and it's only going to get worse.  

It's a sad joke that I find myself defending my rights as a woman in 2012.  These battles have already been waged and won on a government level. Why are they being re-introduced?  We already have enough trouble trying to change the culture on social and corporate levels, we don't need more headaches from a policy standpoint.  As far as I am concerned, it's a closed case ladies and gentlemen, and has been since the 70s.  As women, we have the right to plan our families through the use of birth control, we have the right to opt for an abortion within a health-care facility, and we have the right to equal pay if our skills and qualifications match the requirements.  It's a done deal.  I've been entitled to these rights for years, do you really think I am going to sit back and watch passively as they are snatched away from me?  Hell. No.

For women, this shouldn't be a question of politics.  Being a Democrat, and a liberal one to boot, doesn't drive my opinion for women's equality.  Being a woman does.  It's not a Republican vs. Democrat issue, it's a human rights issue which shouldn't be decided on party lines.  As women, it is our responsibility to remove the conversation from politics and take ownership over it.  Stop letting old, white men in Congress tell us what to do.

Trying to remove the politics from women's equality is quite frankly, impossible.  My pipe-dream so to speak.  Our country is too invested in the two party system and the lines have been drawn.  The issue of women's rights is for the Democrats.  A valuable lesson I learned while on a business trip in Texas, and stumbled my way into a very heated political discussion.  I don't want to stereotype, and this may come off a little trite, but I was surrounded by Texas bred, ex-Marines that vehemently believe women do not have the right to abortions, and that basically a woman's place is in the home with her children.  And much to my surprise, it wasn't just old, white men I mentioned earlier holding these opinions.  It was young, white men too.  Honestly, the forum didn't offer much other than white males.  I was acutely aware of my femaleness the entire conference.  During our political disagreements, I felt as though I had been thrown into a time warp.  Although bizarre and in direct contrast to my understandings, it is their reality.  Life for them functions this way.  But as far as I am concerned, we don't need our legal system placating these unequal beliefs.   

I'm a registered voter, and I am going to vote for the candidate that continues to protect these rights.  And I can only hope that every other woman voter is going to do the same.  It's a fight worth having, and we shouldn't sit passively and take it.  As Helen Reddy put it, "I am woman. Hear me roar".  Better watch out boys - vaginas are starting to take their rights back.    

  

  

nocturnal

Summer has arrived in Michigan, and I am starting to feel like my old self.  I'm a desert rat, and only feel at home in the heat.  As far as I am concerned cold weather is for polar bears, penguins and humpback whales, not for human beings.  I'm off kilter through out the winter months- cranky, cold, and constantly shivering- I typically struggle to put my best self forward.  But when the sun is shining and the warm air wraps around me like a favorite blanket, Davina returns.


It's been a wonderful spring in Michigan, and probably the first real spring since moving here.  For the last couple of years, the weather jumped  from sub zero temperatures to triple digit numbers on the thermometer.  It was one extreme to the next in a blink of an eye.  This year however, spring has matured slowly and its progression has been beautiful.  I've enjoyed watching the flowers bloom and the trees come back to life with all of the various pinks, reds, blues, purples and greens refreshing the landscape after a winter of dingy brown.  It has a revitalizing impact on my soul.  And although the days of glorious sunshine and vivid colors are amazing, spring is missing one important aspect - warm nights.  


There's something magical, and very romantic, about a warm, summer night.  It's always a little weird to be outside at night without a jacket - it feels as though you are privy to something special and unheard of.  I feel as if I am a member of a private club that only a select few people get to experience.  It's eerie because typically we associated darkness with cold, so it's an unexpected curve ball to embrace the warm temperatures.  Plus, it reminds me of my teenage years growing up in Vegas.  Vegas' summers are un-Godly hot and most people stay indoors, unless of course you are in a pool lathered in sunscreen.  The night is for the locals, when we come out of our air conditioned caves, and embrace the darkness.


I have fond memories of late nights spent on my parent's back patio with my teenage friends - without a care in the world, or a single jacket within the group - we would pass the time with jokes and laughter into the wee hours of the morning.  We were carefree and felt invincible.  Those were our nights filled with thoughts of love, change and uncertain futures.  We opened our hearts to each other during those late, midnight hours transforming ourselves into the adults we would later become.  And although this might sound cliche, the warm nights made expressing our feelings safer and easier.  My mind wasn't preoccupied with feeling uncomfortably cold, and my body wasn't working hard to keep itself warm, so I was free to focus on myself.  My thoughts, my feelings and my expectations - all of which were overwhelming and totally confusing during my fragile, teen years.  But those pleasant Vegas nights saw me through the turbulent high school phase.


Last night was reminiscent of those balmy, Vegas nights.  I spent the evening with my husband and two close friends at dinner.  Afterwards, we walked a couple of blocks to Washtenaw Dairy to get dessert.  Sitting outside on the wooden bench in the dusk hours enjoying a strawberry ice cream cone, I felt 16 again.  I was warm.  I wasn't wearing a coat.  And I felt safe.    
   

enriched soil

In the middle of a conversation with a friend, whining and complaining about life and the current state of affairs with my workweek, I blurted out that I needed more enrichment.  It came as a total surprise to me as I was unaware of needing, or lacking, said enrichment.  It sort of popped out of my mouth.  It was hovering in my subconscious for weeks, and before I had a chance to reflect on what I actually meant, I spilled "I just need more enrichment in my life"


And it sounds a little bourgeois.  Something I never considered myself to be, nor did I ever hope to discover about myself.  My life is actually quite fulfilling at the moment, and upon reflection, it sounds quite selfish, and dare I say pessimistic, to ask for more.
A pessimistic bourgeois - I shudder at the thought.


But it's true, my life is incredibly satisfying.  I have a wonderful husband with whom I share a very deep, respective and understanding relationship.  Through our (almost) 4 years of marriage, we have cultivated a partnership that goes beyond what I had originally hoped a marriage to be.  I have amazing friends that are supportive, interesting, comical and loyal - all of the major qualities I use when defining a friend.  As far as personal relationships go, I am well fulfilled and connected.  


I am in the middle of training for my first half-marathon race, and although this may sound crazy to all of you non-runners out there, as well as myself circa 2009 and before, I am thoroughly enjoying the process.  Sure, my knees are sore, and I have a blister larger than a Mexican cockroach on my left foot, but the overall training has been deeply rewarding.  It's an amazing feeling to push my body further and further each week and achieve milestones I never thought possible.  And the running itself is a release - a time for me and me only.  I commune with nature soaking in the different sights and smells of the great outdoors, and most of all, I let my mind relax.  My body is doing all of the work, so my mind goes on a temporary vacation.  It simply floats from thought to thought.  Rather than anxiously running (no pun intended) my to-do list for the week, month, life in general - I basically drift. It's my meditation.  


So, you might ask, and I have asked myself since this crazy enrichment statement, what is missing?  You, my dear blog.  You.  I miss writing.  I miss the creative passion within my soul, and writing has always been the best way to set it free.  It's my creative self that I have been shutting out for too long.  The part of me that gets shoved to the side by other "more important" and demanding requirements.  And I think it's only become more obvious now that I am in the workforce.  While in school, I was constantly using my creativity - whether to write an article for the school paper, layout a new page design, come up with a research paper - my creative self was constantly being put to the test.  Whereas my work place simply requires me to push paper and monitor customer accounts.  Although not always easy, it's much of the same day in and day out.  


But it's time for a change and no more excuses.   Embracing my optimistic side, which is getting much stronger as I get further into this blog, I challenge myself to find that enrichment. To set aside the time to unleash creative, not-at-all pessimistic, or bourgeois Davina.  

In review...

At one point during the NYE festivities last night, I asked everyone to give me their best "2011 in review" face for pictures. When it came to my turn, I put on my cheesiest smile, gave 2 very big thumbs up and emphasized as much excitement as possible. Although my silly behavior was largely due to the delicious beer that Corner Brewery was offering, I think my pose does summarize 2011 well.

It's been a whirlwind year. I experienced many new travels, including a transatlantic trip to Switzerland in October. It was a wonderful trip filled with amazing adventures and people. It was the vacation of a lifetime, and I feel so grateful to have had the opportunity to visit Claudine and Andrew. It wouldn't have been as memorable without them.

It's also been the year of love with quite a few of our friends exchanging marriage vows this year. I was a maid of honor in Monique and Brian's fabulous Temecula wedding. I was a bridesmaid in Molly and Seyth's fun-filled Corner Brewery wedding. I was a guest at Laura and Kreg's romantic and family oriented bash. Each wedding contained it's own unique experience, and I will carry those memories for the rest of my life.

Scott and I celebrated our 3 year wedding anniversary this year in Northern Michigan along the beautiful Torch Lake. It was an incredibly romantic weekend filled with wine tasting, delicious food, and "hotel room" time. We didn't let the unseasonably cold weather bring us down, and brought our own heat to the lakeside. Our relationship has grown to deeper levels of commitment, trust and love than I ever thought possible. I cannot wait to see how much further our relationship develops into 2012.

I didn't get to see my parents as much as I would have liked. But the time I was able to spend with them, I hold very close to my heart. It's a daily struggle to be over 2,000 miles away from them, so phone calls and skype chats help to keep me going. I am so thankful to be able to communicate as honestly and openly with my parents as I do. They have no idea how much I truly value our close relationship. Here's to 2012 holding much more face to face time.

As with life, 2011 also brought some hardships and very difficult events. Scott and I were struck by tragedy when his cousin, Nate, fell to his death during a rock climbing trip. Nate's death shook both of us to our core, and left us feeling very vulnerable and devastated. Although his funeral was exceptionally difficult and trying, I consider us fortunate to have been surrounded by Scott's loving family. It was an incredible experience to be around so many extraordinary people, and see how the power of love can truly initiate the healing process. The wounds are still open, and the pain can still cut very deep, but each day I try to carry on Nate's zest for life and openminded outlook.

I bought a new car. I developed relationships with clients at work. I backpacked on a beach. I climbed a mountain. I made new friends. I lost some friends. I re-connected with old friends. I attempted cooking. I crocheted a beanie. I took new risks. And I definitely made a couple of mistakes along the way. But it's been a learning year, and I feel as though I have grown and matured in a positive direction. I can only hope that 2012's path is just as interesting and exciting.

Resolved

I've neglected you lately. And I am sorry. There are times when life seems so overwhelming and challenging enough as it is, that the thought of trying to conquer the blank page seems terrifying. So, before the new year begins and making resolutions becomes decidedly trite, I am resolving to nurture my craft of writing. Even if it's just a paragraph or two, I will make the effort.

And so the exertion begins...

Similar to a training plan for a 10k race, the first mile is always the hardest. No increase will be as difficult as that initial mile. The jump from 2 miles to 3 miles wasn't nearly as physically trying as that very first mile. After months of laziness and distraction, this is my First Mile. I will work through the awkwardness of forced ideas, and hopefully stumble upon the familiar and comfortable rhythm. It's the perfect arrangement of words developing into a melody that keeps me coming back for more.

I will keep my excuses to a minimum and do my best to keep things interesting. I want to share my experiences, and hopefully communicate my feelings of wonderment and awe related to the roller coaster that is life. I plan to dissect my perspective on different issues, including the complications of human relations, and hopefully persuade others to take a step outside of their own box.

It's baby steps, and most of mine are probably smaller than a 1 year old's stride. I am comfortable in routine and feel most secure when I can anticipate what the future holds. It's time to break the pattern.

It's going to be bumpy, and I'm prepared for frustration and anxiety. But for once, I am not going to let anxiety dissuade me, and in the end hopefully recreate my love affair with writing.

Never Seen

While sitting in the kitchen with my husband discussing potential eye surgery for our dear puppy, Mea, I had an amazing feeling of déjà vu. I interrupted my husband and gasped "I've experienced this exact moment before!"

Everything about the moment was familiar. From the way we were sitting at the kitchen table in front of the laptop to the words Scott used to describe the logistics of the eye surgery. My inner emotions even felt repetitive.

And I was flabbergasted.

I have only experienced déjà vu a couple of times in my life, and whenever it occurs I feel breathless. There is something so odd about the déjà vu experience- it’s familiar, yet unsettling; comforting, yet awkward.

I have heard some people claim that déjà vu is simply a memory from our previous lives that has surfaced to our subconscious. I could buy into this theory and spend hours fantasizing about what I was in previous lives. I would love to picture my past life spent as an Arabian princess, a Japanese warrior, a lonely fisherman, or a famous Opera singer. It all sounds so thrilling.

But my cases of déjà vu are too specific to be a memory from a previous life. It is implausible to believe that in a past life I experienced that EXACT same situation. For one, computers and laptops haven’t been around long enough. And two, the emotional experience is also too precise.

Other déjà vu believers theorize it’s a spiritual experience. Our soul has left our body and experienced the moment before our body is given the opportunity. Once our soul re-enters the body and lives the moment in real-time the experience becomes déjà vu. That too, is fascinating. It also lends the question, what else is my soul capable of doing? Does my soul leave my body often? Perhaps when I am dreaming? Are these experiences buried somewhere in my mind?

Do I even have a soul?