back from a brief haitus

It’s November 9, 2016.

For the last two weeks, a number of things have been weighing heavy on my mind. I decided to take a little break from posting online. I feared consequences of writing while feeling so much emotion and tension. I didn’t want to write something I might regret later on.

Our family has just moved from the city where I lived for over 10 years. It was a hard move out of my neighborhood into a suburban one. There was so much that I loved about walking to my favorite businesses owned by friends. I loved the diversity of thought that I started to feel once I got off-campus. I loved that people bought houses in my neighborhood to root themselves and to make it better. Unfortunately, we couldn’t stick around there. Weighing heavy  was the uptick in crime on our block over a short period of time. We worried about how quickly small interactions could escalate. We slept worrying about our safety through the night. We had the means to find a place that is safer, so we did. I feel some guilt about it,  but I really don’t think I should. It’s a work in progress there.

old house.jpg

The move was quick and really great. I haven’t had to worry, other than the fact that our new house is a little too quiet. That, and I am not used to having land near my house that isn’t normally traipsed by strangers. My husband and I are proud of what we have bought and where we are going to raise our kids. There is the tension. Proud and guilty. What a strange feeling.

In all of this movement, there has been an election of immense importance. One that I was fully expecting to go either way since the end of the primaries. I never believed it would be easy for either candidate. I spent (too much) time reading the Podesta emails. I spent a good deal of time on the candidate’s websites and brushing up on the Wisconsin Legislature and especially learning about the “secret history” of the transfer of powers from Jimmy Carter to Ronald Reagan. I tried to stay away from the pundits. I tried to ignore the polls which felt as stupid to me as a daily horoscope. I tried to dig into what I really believe about myself and fellow Americans. And apparently, I am much more optimistic than my counterparts.

In my little world, things look bright, not bleak. The future feels uncertain, but it also seems to me that uncertainty is better than the “status quo,” my new least-favorite political term. I believe that Jullian Assange was of extreme importance in helping our country have a free and fair election. I hope and have confidence he will do the same thing for the Trump Administration. It’s time to dig into the belief that this Republic is beautiful and worth fighting for.

I know that today is a difficult day for many. It is very real and raw to be let-down by the failures of our candidates. I remember feeling distraught in past elections. I remember worrying for the future. I know that it is unpopular as there is a belief this is the worst possible outcome of a presidency in history.

Let me assure you, I remember worrying as hard when others celebrated. I was worried for my loved ones in the service when our so-called dove president was waging illegal wars abroad and drawing down forces in Iraq and Afghanistan putting an  increasingly larger target on their backs. I remember KNOWING that there was a terrorist attack on 9/11 in Libya when people around me didn’t care or care to know and they ate up the lies of our State Department and President. I remember knowing that the prices for healthcare were going to increase because of a back-door deal on Christmas Eve as shady as a deal can be dealt. I worried about transparency as whistle blowers were being silenced at alarming rates by the Obama Administration. These are all things I expected people could agree were bad…but I was wrong. They wanted their man….and they got him and this sizable war with ISIS and the premiums and the lies about Libya and it’s all put us here….

We are a country of different people and we have vastly different “ideals.” No matter if we all watch American Idol at 8 pm, it doesn’t make us all the same. It doesn’t make all minorities the same. Not all white people are the same. Or one of  two things, either a Social Justice Warrior or a Racist. We gotta get OK with it.

I’m going to step off my soapbox now. It’s an uncomfortable place to be. I am just going to start digging in: love my family, protect our money, give freely, develop gratitude, daily. family 1.JPG

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