Free The Hikers: Part III

02.02.2011

I’m writing about the hikers again because, I think, there’s been a misunderstanding about what message I was trying to convey the other day. I wrote that entry very late and after an exhausting day, and I later realized that it may not have made sense.

To start, for anyone who may be new to my blog and who may not have read my very first entry, the “rules” and “point” of my blog may not be clear. While I do get political and express my opinions, it’s always in the context of analyzing our society through the topic of children whether it’s on parenting or education, for example. I also often provide personal experiences to explore whatever issue(s) I’m discussing in a particular entry. I think my entry on the hikers the other day and relating it to my sister may have been doubly confusing without knowing the way I’ve set things up.

What I personally took away from last week’s event at USC with Sarah Shourd is how despite having every reason to be angry and spiteful, I’m to understand that she’s made peace with her interment and continues to fight for her fiancé and friend. Through this dark period in her life, she’s found a way of letting go of the anger and continues to hope and pray for the release of Josh and Shane.

From their mothers’ perspective, I understood that they too hope and pray (and fight), BUT, I would like to draw attention to the fact that the situation and ultimate decision of their sons’ fate is out of their hands. They can scream, turn blue, throw and break things but nothing will change it. They have the power to do exactly what it is they’re doing now but they can’t force Iran’s government to release their sons. Sometimes the most painful decision includes sitting and waiting and accepting that there is a greater power in control (and I mean that literally and spiritually).

It was this sentiment that I was trying to express when I brought up my sister. I acknowledge that it was a weak attempt and, obviously, my family’s plight at the time didn’t involve a family member unjustly detained. But, without getting into specifics, a life was in danger. My mom and I could do nothing to change the situation and we had to sit, wait and accept that there was a greater power in control. For my family, there was a happy ending. I too wish the same ending for Josh and Shane. I also wish that Sarah and Shane can marry one day and start a life together in peace. They most certainly deserve that as does anyone.

The Road Less Traveled By

11.09.2010

I know that most of us fear change. Habit, however good or bad, gives us comfort and stability. I’m no stranger to being a creature of comfort. What I’m also no stranger to is fierce and radical change.

I think I’m the only person I know who’s lived in the same place for 27 years except for maybe my grandmother but even that’s questionable. I also think it’s strange for a child to live in the same place he/she grew up instead of a parent raising a family in one place and staying there until an assisted living-type of situation occurs or death.

In 2006, Rob and I discussed moving and even went house hunting on and off for two years but despite my occasional interest in a house, there was much resistance on my part. Leave my rent-controlled apartment? (Notice I said, “my.”) Move away from pretty much the only place I’ve ever known? Are you serious?

When I quit my job two years ago, we still looked around because the hope of me finding another job was still high. But the economy tanked and I’ve only had a few temp jobs. Needless to say, we stopped looking.

About 12 months ago, an emotional shift within me began to grow. I realized a few months ago how stagnant I feel. I also feel that Rob and I can’t grow emotionally as a couple if we continue to live here much longer. I grew up in this apartment. My family was raised. My memories are embedded in these walls, and it doesn’t matter how many times I change their color or repaint them or rearrange the furniture, the tentacles of my past restrain me.

I’ve reached a point where I want, where I need some sort of a major change. I swear I do everything backwards because couldn’t this realization come to me three years ago when I was working?

Earlier today I found myself meditating on this topic of change particularly as it pertains to work. The notion of “change” led me to think about a friend who’s pregnant and another who went into labor today. I thought about pregnancy and how that would certainly classify as “major change.” This made me think about the growing baby in my friend and caught myself with a smile on my face instead of the usual look of repulsion I have. Pregnancy and the physical change it produces still terrify me but I was in a rare moment of vulnerability when thinking about it.

I don’t know what the future holds but I also know my pattern and when I seek change, it’s radical, it’s unconventional, and it’s almost always life-changing. Leave my rent-controlled apartment? Yes. Move away from pretty much the only place I’ve ever known? Yes. Are you serious? Very.

Have a kid? “Break the rules, go with your heart, the world is wide and anything…anything…can happen.”[1]

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[1] Advertisement slogan, 1997.

A Sonogram of Hope

10.13.2010

I recently saw a sonogram and I don’t know if it’s because it belonged to someone close to me or not but I was overwhelmed with emotion. The newness and promise that comes with a baby is so strong, and I wish that at least a fraction of that remained with us throughout our lives. We get so jaded by the time we’re adults and it becomes more challenging with each year to try and see situations from a fresh perspective or from the perspective of hope. So much emphasis on these emotions is associated with having a baby that I wish we’d spread them a little more throughout our lives instead of just with the coming of a baby. It’s up to us as individuals to remember that having hope, like a smile, is contagious.