There has been a phrase that has been used that everyone seems to recognize and it has become a consuming thought I have had for the past few days. That phrase is....
"Seeing the world through rose colored glasses"
A safe assumption, is that using the thought that rose colored glasses gives the person looking through them see life as something always positive in a sense that it is blind to other factors that are not so rosy. I get it, but I have a hard time accepting that every aspect of life is on the up and up. Especially, when being offered to try on other colors of glasses to look at the same situation in a different light. Here is what I am thinking....
I have some friends, so cynical that it can be seen as pessimistic. Call it, "the sky is falling" kind of mentality. Everything is a conspiracy and everyone is out to get them. Not one shred of proof will sway them to believe anything different. I call that color of glasses.... gray.
Then, there are the friends that are so focused on one thing that it puts them in a category that can only be noted as having a severe case of blinder syndrome. Better seen as tunnel vision. I would say that their color of glasses would be black, but that would be an inaccurate way of describing that small opening in the center that sets a laser like focus on the one thing that they are focused on. Simply put, there is another branch of black glasses that are so dark and impenetrable to seeing anything are those that choose to remain blissfully ignorant to what is happening around them. Then, there are the ones with blue glasses that only focus on the sadness that surrounds them. They feed off of mysery. Sometimes mistaken for being too compassionate for the well being of others. Of course, we cannot ignore the green glasses that highlight jealousy over everything around them. The jealousy that they don't have what others have. Then, there are the red glasses. Red with anger at everything and nothing at all. Just bitter at the world and always ready for a fight. Yellow, rainbow, purple, and whatever color or pattern you choose can easily describe the beliefs swirling in their minds. Simply put, it is the perceptions that people choose to grasp onto that makes them all individuals.
While I would love to say that I am one that prefers to wear clear glasses when looking at things, I have to admit that there have been times that I donned a pair, or two, that were not crystal clear. I would like to see things in varying angles and in varying colors. It makes life more interesting. Sadly, my glasses have become a swirling mass of contradictions and colors because there has been far too much exposure to compelling arguments that do happen to have a leg to stand upon. Here are my thoughts lately about a few things.....
Recently, Paris, France was attacked by a group of people disguised as refugees running from a horrific situation. While my heart weeps for those that only want peace, my blood boils at the ability for someone with an ulterior motive to attack innocent people that are only trying to help. Knowing that the obvious history of my family heritage states that my ancestors immigrated to the United States, I can only assume that their desire was not to run, but to embrace a new life in a new land. Doing what they can to meld and mix with their new surroundings as a sign of respect for the customs, as well as the language. What managed to bother me is how someone with an inability to embrace differences, places a literal and unsettling emphasis of something that not everyone can accept is a religion or faith, and lash out in such an evil manner. While it is a freedom to choose your faith, it is not a right to inflict pain upon people that do not agree with you. Innocent lives are at stake and I am sickened to the core. I am fearful that regardless of what decisions are made to allow refugees to enter other countries with different customs, traditions, and beliefs.... life is now even more fragile now than it ever was. If we were to strip all the faith, beliefs, and customs of people.... there would be nothing to be passionate about. It does not exactly put the masses in a substantially safer situation, but it does change where the passion lies. I am all for helping the innocent, but I am not willing to sacrifice my safety to my friends and family on the chance of welcoming a terrorist with open arms and the desire to be a compassionate humanitarian. I wonder.... what color my glasses are with that statement?
On a more local note, there has been a major upheaval over gender equality. In all honesty, I believe every person is to be treated with respect... equally. What I have a problem with is forcing a situation as volatile as body image where it should not be forced. You see, there is a boy at my daughter's school. He believes that he is a woman trapped in a man's body. His choice of clothing are what you would normally see on females, but what lies under the clothing is all male. While I am okay with his desire to become what he believes is on the inside.... I have a serious issue with forcing my daughter the image of what is under their clothes in an environment that is already as stressful as it is..... the locker room. A room where the outer layers of a person (clothing) are shed in front of others. As history states, or in the eyes of most.... boys are to change clothes with boys and girls are to change clothes with girls. I happen to be a firm believer in that. While some will argue that gender discrimination does not exactly apply when a mother changes a baby boy's diaper, or a father changing a diaper to his baby girl. Heck, it does not apply when a physician is doing their job and has to deal with the anatomy of the opposite sex. Yes, it is just a body, but this situation can also be seen as something beyond the clinical. While I cannot judge one family from the next... most families keep their unclothed bodies behind closed doors and is only shared with a person that they are comfortable with. My husband does not run around the house naked, and neither do my daughter and I. It is respect for not just ourselves, but respect of others to keep things to ourselves. Do I have a problem with a boy thinking he is a girl? Nope. Do I have an issue with a boy being naked in a girl's locker room? You betcha I do! What you have under your clothes is none of my business, just as well as what you do behind closed doors (sexual orientation). As long as it does not hurt anyone and respects the individual boundaries placed by others around them.... I have no qualms. I just don't appreciate being forced to accept something that I don't need to see. That is where I firmly believe in turning the other cheek, looking away, and not bothering to understand. Be who you are.... embrace it. Just don't force me to embrace it. I can accept, but not embrace. Hmmm.... what color are my glasses now?
While I have more topics to share, I need to stop here. All those swirling colors, tones and shades are muddying my view. Time to get my day going. I'll see what I can share another day, so stay tuned and thanks for reading.....
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Friday, November 13, 2015
Never forgotten....
Everyone has a person, or people, that tend to invoke a plethora of memories. WHEW! Talk about cranking out the thesaurus for the big words today with that statement... ha ha ha! Okay, okay, okay.... enough of the rambled and jumbled segues into other areas of thought today.
(Note to self: just get to the darn point and not scatter the blogging flow.)
Just the other day, it was Veterans Day. A day to remember and reflect upon those that chose to make sacrifices for the greater good of the country. I am pretty sure that everyone can think of at least one person that served time in the military. It could be the Army, Navy, Air Force, or even the Marines Their capacities can range from reservists to career military, from office work to fighting on the front lines. It really does not matter what you choose to focus on, but we can safely say that there is at least one person you knew that served. Some are graced with being brought back to their families alive, while some sadly, were not. In the grand scheme of things.... war is Hell and only the truly strong of mind and body manage to survive the experience. Not saying that those that were injured or killed were any less strong, but it takes a different kind of strength to overcome the brutality of war.
While taking the time to fondly remember people that have touched my life that happen to have been far braver and stronger that I could ever possibly be, I grasped onto a bit of information that was just presented to me over the past week or so before this day of remembering came about. It was a service that I never got to see first hand that assists the injured, and not just the physically injured, either. It is the journey from military experience to the experiences of non military life. The mental anguish of seeing loss of life first hand and the insecurities of feeling safe. Some may call it PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), but others see it as trying to separate the bad from the good. The bad, being the danger of war and the threats to life it possesses. The good is waking up to see another day. Sadly, even the knowledge of living another day can be hard on a person when someone close to them did not get blessed with that same fate. Military families are just that.... families. Their bond is beyond blood, but is in some ways connected through blood. They stand tall and fight a good fight together. Their connection is indescribable. Witnessing the light leaving a fellow soldier's eyes is capable of knocking even the most physically strongest to their knees. While I can go on with this descriptive thought (or perception in my opinion), I would be missing the point of this blog, so I will march on....
What I learned recently was at a fundraiser for assistance to our injured military. Now, when I think of injured military, I think of those commercial ads that ask for donations to The Wounded Warrior Project. You know the ones I am talking about, but if you don't.... it is for military personnel that lost an arm, leg, or suffer from a brain injury. The visual scars of the dangers these brave men and women took. What I did not seem to acknowledge were the ones that suffer mental scars. It was not because I wasn't aware of what PTSD was, or even know what anxiety or depression are all about. Believe me... I am fully aware. I battle with anxiety on a daily basis. I suffer with bouts of depression that make me cut myself off from social situations. While I know that mental disorders are not visible to the naked eye, it was a curiosity that spurned me into looking at what is being done for these internally scarred warriors. I found one of the answers at that fundraiser. It is called Kare9.
Kare9 is a service that provides therapy dogs to assist in treating those hidden scars from war. These dogs are trained to bring calm to the chaos and I met two of these angels just recently. Their names are Flex and Susie. Both are golden retrievers. Understanding the way this service helps these selfless warriors is something I can truly appreciate. As I stood and talked with their handlers, both are veterans, I did not realize that my stresses of the day earlier were easily seen by these two dogs. Their calming presence was heightened when Flex leaned against my leg. Just being close brought my hand to his fur and the calming sensation of softness and strength, eased my frazzled nerves. You see, as I stated earlier, I battle with anxiety on an almost daily basis. I have my good days, but I have my bad ones, too. I do my best to keep moving, but there are times I just prefer to be left alone with nothing to do except read another book on my Kindle or play a game on my phone. That day I met Flex and Susie, I was having one of those days that I wanted to go hide in my reading, but I left work to at least make an appearance of support to a cause that I believe in and that my older brother helps promote. It's an annual thing and I haven't been there the previous year and I felt bad about that. Doing my best to trudge over my little panic attacks for being farther than a 5 minute ride from home is what I did to make my appearance. Needless to say.... Flex and his heightened ability to sense my discomfort did what he is trained to do and that just blew my mind... just a little. Then, as the handler for Susie saw me sit down, Susie hopped onto my lap to let me give a much needed hug of thanks. Tears were threatening to flow freely from my eyes at the intelligence and strength of purpose to bring calm to people. That just totally blew my mind.
From battle lines in other countries to the struggles at home, it is rarely ever seen that dogs play such a strong role in both. The silent and stoic creature that does their job, and does it well. The respect that should be placed before them, never screamed from mountaintops, nor given a day of their own, but appreciated nonetheless.... I can say that I have another person, or better yet - a dog, to be thankful for and to never be forgotten. From dogs that offer therapy, to dogs that sniff out danger, to dogs that take the very front of the battle lines.... Thank You! You are now a permanent member of the list of people that offer good memories to recall upon when I need them.
Thanks for reading and have a great day!!
(Note to self: just get to the darn point and not scatter the blogging flow.)
Just the other day, it was Veterans Day. A day to remember and reflect upon those that chose to make sacrifices for the greater good of the country. I am pretty sure that everyone can think of at least one person that served time in the military. It could be the Army, Navy, Air Force, or even the Marines Their capacities can range from reservists to career military, from office work to fighting on the front lines. It really does not matter what you choose to focus on, but we can safely say that there is at least one person you knew that served. Some are graced with being brought back to their families alive, while some sadly, were not. In the grand scheme of things.... war is Hell and only the truly strong of mind and body manage to survive the experience. Not saying that those that were injured or killed were any less strong, but it takes a different kind of strength to overcome the brutality of war.
While taking the time to fondly remember people that have touched my life that happen to have been far braver and stronger that I could ever possibly be, I grasped onto a bit of information that was just presented to me over the past week or so before this day of remembering came about. It was a service that I never got to see first hand that assists the injured, and not just the physically injured, either. It is the journey from military experience to the experiences of non military life. The mental anguish of seeing loss of life first hand and the insecurities of feeling safe. Some may call it PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), but others see it as trying to separate the bad from the good. The bad, being the danger of war and the threats to life it possesses. The good is waking up to see another day. Sadly, even the knowledge of living another day can be hard on a person when someone close to them did not get blessed with that same fate. Military families are just that.... families. Their bond is beyond blood, but is in some ways connected through blood. They stand tall and fight a good fight together. Their connection is indescribable. Witnessing the light leaving a fellow soldier's eyes is capable of knocking even the most physically strongest to their knees. While I can go on with this descriptive thought (or perception in my opinion), I would be missing the point of this blog, so I will march on....
What I learned recently was at a fundraiser for assistance to our injured military. Now, when I think of injured military, I think of those commercial ads that ask for donations to The Wounded Warrior Project. You know the ones I am talking about, but if you don't.... it is for military personnel that lost an arm, leg, or suffer from a brain injury. The visual scars of the dangers these brave men and women took. What I did not seem to acknowledge were the ones that suffer mental scars. It was not because I wasn't aware of what PTSD was, or even know what anxiety or depression are all about. Believe me... I am fully aware. I battle with anxiety on a daily basis. I suffer with bouts of depression that make me cut myself off from social situations. While I know that mental disorders are not visible to the naked eye, it was a curiosity that spurned me into looking at what is being done for these internally scarred warriors. I found one of the answers at that fundraiser. It is called Kare9.
Kare9 is a service that provides therapy dogs to assist in treating those hidden scars from war. These dogs are trained to bring calm to the chaos and I met two of these angels just recently. Their names are Flex and Susie. Both are golden retrievers. Understanding the way this service helps these selfless warriors is something I can truly appreciate. As I stood and talked with their handlers, both are veterans, I did not realize that my stresses of the day earlier were easily seen by these two dogs. Their calming presence was heightened when Flex leaned against my leg. Just being close brought my hand to his fur and the calming sensation of softness and strength, eased my frazzled nerves. You see, as I stated earlier, I battle with anxiety on an almost daily basis. I have my good days, but I have my bad ones, too. I do my best to keep moving, but there are times I just prefer to be left alone with nothing to do except read another book on my Kindle or play a game on my phone. That day I met Flex and Susie, I was having one of those days that I wanted to go hide in my reading, but I left work to at least make an appearance of support to a cause that I believe in and that my older brother helps promote. It's an annual thing and I haven't been there the previous year and I felt bad about that. Doing my best to trudge over my little panic attacks for being farther than a 5 minute ride from home is what I did to make my appearance. Needless to say.... Flex and his heightened ability to sense my discomfort did what he is trained to do and that just blew my mind... just a little. Then, as the handler for Susie saw me sit down, Susie hopped onto my lap to let me give a much needed hug of thanks. Tears were threatening to flow freely from my eyes at the intelligence and strength of purpose to bring calm to people. That just totally blew my mind.
From battle lines in other countries to the struggles at home, it is rarely ever seen that dogs play such a strong role in both. The silent and stoic creature that does their job, and does it well. The respect that should be placed before them, never screamed from mountaintops, nor given a day of their own, but appreciated nonetheless.... I can say that I have another person, or better yet - a dog, to be thankful for and to never be forgotten. From dogs that offer therapy, to dogs that sniff out danger, to dogs that take the very front of the battle lines.... Thank You! You are now a permanent member of the list of people that offer good memories to recall upon when I need them.
Thanks for reading and have a great day!!
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