is this real life?

Anyone that knows me knows that I love a good crime drama. I love to escape into the fantasy of chasing the bad guy and determining why a crafted villan executed his absurd crimes. The problem is that recently, I can barely differentiate the terrifying reality of the local news with the fantastic escape of these made up tales. The crime scenes are not sets built to look familiar, they are the stores I frequent and neighborhoods I have driven through on streets that I know. The responding officers are not actors, they are my neighbors. The blood of the wounded and killed is not from the prop closet, it is from the hearts of those that loved people close to me and protected our homes.

How is this real? I know that being in a "lockdown" is to keep us safe so I try to take comfort in a day at home. But then I watch SWAT teams invade not a camp in a warzone... or a city in another country... or even a city in a different state, but the neighborhood down the street. Down the street. That's not a random mall that they are using as a terrorist-tracking base camp, that's the mall I was at last week - there is a military vehicle where I parked my Corolla last week. This doesn't happen here. It happens, but it doesn't happen HERE.

Shit just got real and I am NOT handling it well. And this is barely happening to me.

I am one of the lucky ones - I got the "you're next-door, so you lockdown too" warning. I got the "shaken, but ok" responses from my panicked texts and frantic calls. I got to respond with "good, please stay safe" and someone was alive and well on the receiving end. There are others out there that are not that lucky. They are sitting in their houses, afraid to watch the chaos unfolding outside their front door, literally. They are in hospital rooms or worse, staring at make-shift memorials trying to wrap their minds about how they are going to continue on without loved ones.

So if I'm removed, why can't I handle it? Because this is what it means to be human: to feel on behalf of someone else. And even though we want to remove ourselves from such horrible experiences, we cannot ignore what hits home. We use physical distance to create emotional distance from tragedy because without that defense mechanism we would never be able to muster-up the strength to exist, but then it happens down the street and you have no choice but to be affected.

So here we are Boston, being affected. And it sucks. But so far we have done a damn good job. We have helped each other, we have informed each other, we have been there for each other, and we are feeling for each other. We are Boston Strong and we will continue to live up to our reputation of being the tough, resilient city at the foundation of America.

"You showed us, Boston, that in the face of evil, Americans will lift up what's good. In the face of cruelty, we will choose compassion. In the face of those who would visit death upon innocents, we will choose to save and to comfort and to heal. We'll choose friendship. We'll choose love." - President Barack Obama

Boston, you're my home. And I cannot wait until it is a wicked peaceful place once more.

haves and have nots

So I may have made a major life decision tonight; rather than wishing I grew up in the 80's as opposed to being born in them, I might just wish I grew up in the 60's.  I went to see Hair with my mother, 2 aunts, and my grandmother.  Really not as awkward as you would think considering the night consisted of 3 hours of sex acts, acid trips, and a full-fontal of the entire cast.  As great as the theater experience was (highly recommended), the message it offered was even greater.

Obviously it was the typical message you think of when you think of the 60's- "hell no we wont go," "make love not war," "peace & love."  And obviously this is right up my ally seeing as I own a shirt that says "make love not war."  Now that I think about it is in neon 80's colors, hmmm... there's an interesting coincidence, but we'll leave that for later.  So even though there are so many places I could go with this type of idealistic viewpoint being thrust (and I literally mean thrust) upon me, what stood out the most is something even more basic.  There is one point in the story where one of the main characters is asked the series of questions all us young adults dread: "What are you doing with your life?" "When are you going to grow up and make the responsible choices?" "What do you have?"

The character's response was a song (it's a musical, duhh!) with a canorous list of body parts.  He literally listed everything from eyes and ears to arms and hands to legs and toes; then, more importantly, moved on to highlight that he has his mind, heart, and soul.  Pretty basic stuff.  Was is the answer to the question?  Yeah.  Was it a total wise-ass response?  Of course, he was a hippie people- fight the man and keep up won't you!  Was it a GREAT response? Hell yeah- in so many ways.

So what if it wasn't much than he was born with?  That's what really matters in life, these are the basic things that make us who we are- the things that no one can take away from us or discredit us for in any way.  Not only is his highlighting the basics as important a powerful sentiment, the mindset that drives this enhances it as well; he is focusing on what he has, not dwelling on what he doesn't.

As a culture we get so caught up in what we don't have; we get concerned that others have more than we do, are doing better than we are.  We get lost in the "if only's" and forget what really matters and all we really do have.  We have so much, there are always so many things that are going right in our lives.  But somehow one negative outweighs 2, 3, 4, or even more positives.   This is not a way to lead a happy life and so we need to be reminded of these things.  This is what the purpose of art (as idealistic as it is) is- to remind us not to get bogged down with the unfortunate realities and reinvigorate our sense hope.  We need something to motivate us to get up everyday- positivity and idealism work for me.