Feather in the Stream - A Short Story

Opening Up Again

There are benefits to being alone.  One is that the only person you have to worry about disappointing is yourself.  Another is that you can follow your dreams without any pressure from outside forces to do it faster or in a way you aren't comfortable with.  I'll achieve my dreams, in my time, on my terms, we tell ourselves.

There are also downsides.  In being alone we can become so dependent upon ourselves that when life offers up compassion or friendship or even love, we may have a hard time accepting it.  Connection to another human being is a terrifying thing, and can lead us down a path to loss, grief and heartache.  After all, it has before, hasn't it?  For many of us, that's what caused us to be alone in the first place.

Today, I find myself feeling things I wasn't sure were possible beyond the iron-clad walls of my heart.  Yeah I know, cry me a river, right?  But years upon years of disappointment and disillusionment make it hard not to build those walls.  In fact, they build themselves.  Failed relationships, failed dreams and failed emotional connections each add another block to those walls whether we realize it or not.  Some of us are wise enough to recognize this and learn to protect ourselves while not closing ourselves off to hope.  Many of us find that harder to do.

I've always prided myself on my ability to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  It wasn't always my tunnel, but the light was always there and I could always point that out to friends, family and even mere acquaintances.  Little have I realized that my own lights were getting more dim as I turned my gaze away from them.  "Roll with life's punches and hope for a better tomorrow," became my motto. A better tomorrow.  Not a great one.

And yet....  Suddenly I find myself at a point in my life where compassion is surrounding me.  There are people, events and promises that radiate hope like fireflies asking to land on my palm and glow only for me.  No, not only for me.  They glow for the smiling faces around me as well.

I have friends I care for.  I have a family who loves me.  I have words and the ability to share them.  There's a whole beautiful world out there and every bit of it wants to embrace me.  I have a cause I stand for, and another I have never stopped standing for.  I have a little furry extension of my soul staring out the window sill.

I wasn't sure I could do it.  I thought I might have allowed those walls to grow too thick too fast.  And yet it has happened.

I have fallen in love with life.

Falling in love is a dangerous thing.  Sometimes the heart we put out there isn't sheltered by another. Sometimes it's neglected and left to wither in the elements.  Sometimes it's taken by another only to be discarded in a place that takes time to find again.  But sometimes...sometimes that heart is held...and cherished...and loved in return.

I am not afraid.  I will journey.  I will explore.  I will love.  Most importantly of all, I will accept.  Bad things will happen to me; but so will beautiful things.  I will lose some things and gain others.  I will love life, and while that love may not always feel requited, it will burn bright and pure and strong.

To Give or Not to Give

Gave a homeless man a $5 bill today even though I knew he was probably trying to con me with an elaborate story about his car breaking down.  He said he needed bus fair to get home to his family and his "battery cable was fused to the blah blah blah" or something.  He was also on a cell phone with his wife, telling her after I gave him the money that he was about to catch a bus.

I was on my way to spend that $5 on a lottery ticket.  I figured possibly getting this guy a sandwich or bus fair was a better use of my money.    As soon as he opened his mouth, I felt a familiar conundrum rearing its head. I knew as I talked to this man that he was probably not telling the whole truth.  I don't believe the car he pointed to was his.  I think it's very possible there was no one on the other line of that cell phone conversation.  As I drove out of the parking lot, I saw a backpack and two shopping bags laying nearby that were probably his possessions.

This man probably lied to me.  And yet, I still feel like I did the right thing.  Though he probably twisted the truth in order to get money from me, he may have actually needed fair for a ride home.  Or he could have needed a sandwich.  Or maybe he wanted to buy a lottery ticket himself.  Whatever it was, this man needed something, even if it was just money for the sake of money.

Or he could have needed enough to walk down to the liquor store and ensure he'd be too smashed to remember the rest of the night.  Or my $5 could have contributed to a fund he'd been building for his next hit of heroin.  Maybe this is what he wanted it for.  Perhaps this was even probably what he wanted it for.

But I don't know that.  The man told me he needed help.  I could give it, so I did.

"We have been called
naive
as if it were a dirty word,
We have been called
innocent
as though with shame
our cheeks should burn" - Jewel Kilcher

 My dad would and often did call me naive.  In fact, he called me that, angrily, for doing this very same thing once in his presence.  When I was a kid I gave a homeless man in San Fransico the $20 my parents had given me as spending money.  My dad made me feel horrible for doing so, telling me how the man was worthless and only wanted my money for worthless gain.  Maybe he was right.  Maybe that man did immediately take my 20 to the liquor store.

Or, maybe he fed his family for the first time in a week that night.

Though life has beaten a lot of hopes and dreams and yes, optimism out of me, I'm still that kid.  I still choose to believe that people have the best intentions, and that even though we all make mistakes, those people always end up passing my faith along and helping others.

They don't always.  I know that.  Naive though I may choose to be, I'm not blind.  I do, however think that humanity is, at it's core, good.  That man today may use my gift for poor or wasteful reasons, but I will not condemn him for what he might do.

He asked me for help.  I chose to give it.

You might have guessed by now that I'm writing this to convince myself just as much as anyone.  In the back of my mind, my father's voice still resonates.  I'll never know that my actions will have good consequences.  But faith...faith is a powerful thing.  Especially faith in others.

I asked the man how much bus fair was, he asked his "wife" on the other line, then said it was about $2.50.  I pulled out a 5; it was all I had, and handed it to him.  His eyes lit up.  "Thank you.  Oh man, thank you," he said.  I nodded and smiled and he walked away.  I got back in my car, no longer having a reason (or the money) to go into Kroger and drove home.

I don't know why that $5 made him happy.  I don't know and I never will.  The simple fact that it did is enough for me.

:)

The Age of Aggression

I read an article today about a woman at a graphic design seminar who stood up and attacked the speaker, asking him "how he slept at night".  The designer was taken aback by the question, and I have to admit, I was taken aback as a reader and as someone who works in the graphic design industry.  We don't typically think of ourselves as the bad guy, and this woman wholeheartedly believed that graphic design was another cog in the corporate machine that holds down the poor and unfortunate.  Walmart is currently the hated villain in Athens, the city I've recently adopted as my home, due to their plan to build a giant anchor store in the heart of historic downtown.  Though guys in suits sitting in boardrooms are who Occupy Wallstreet usually direct their hate towards, someone, somewhere designed Walmart's logo.

The article led me to an uncomfortable realization.  I am a part of a group that is hated.  And that realization led me to another realization:

Everyone is

We live in an age where aggression dominates our media, our discussions, and in many cases our view of the world around us.  Republicans hate bleeding heart liberals.  Democrats hate right wing religious nutjobs.  Christians hate those who do not follow the explicit teachings of their book.  Atheist hate Christians and anyone who pushes religion on others.  The 99% hates the 1%.  Home-grown Americans hate and mistrust Middle Easterners.  Hate...hate...hate.

I don't use that word lightly.  I don't just see displeasure when I read a political blog or listen to an Occupy rally or soundbites from a religious sermon.  These people aren't just angry.  Even though they will not outwardly say so, it's obvious in their tone and actions that they outright hate the group they're speaking against.  One human being hating another.  One human being wishing another harm because of ideology.

Hate between men or women has always existed, and often in much higher doses than we're seeing now; and yet I can't help but feel that this aggression is reaching a boiling point over the last five years. It's true that it started simmering after 9/11, but when the recession hit, all bets were off.  People were forced to look after themselves, and that meant looking out over their shoulder to identify those who wanted to take something from them.

The world we live in now is one of defensive protectiveness.  If we don't protect our jobs, we'll lose them to someone else.  If we don't protect our money, someone will take it.  If we don't protect our beliefs, someone will attempt to change them.  What's sad about this is that this is not an over-protectiveness.  All of these things, now more than ever, are absolutely true.  There really is someone, also trying to protect themselves and their families and yes, their beliefs, who will take from you in order to do so.

Knowing this has led most of us into a type of 24/7 battle stance, always looking for the next attack.  In that reality, many of us have decided to strike first; to point the finger at those we believe will take from us, and in doing so somehow weaken them before they can hit us where it hurts.  The Tea Party firmly believes that Obama and the Democrats want to take from them through taxes, over-regulation and attempts to alter their way of life.  Whether this is true or not, to the Tea Party, the current administration is a hated enemy who must be defeated.

Occupy Wallstreet, in this manner, is exactly the same as the Tea Party movement.  Big Business and corporate managers want nothing more than to take from us and change our way of life to suit their agenda.  Whether this is true or not, Big Business is a hated enemy that must be stopped.

Thanks to our media, these shows of protective aggression are not only louder, but spread much faster than they would or even could have in ages before.  True, both the Tea Party and Occupy movements are currently losing steam, but that hate remains, and other more timeless arguments over religion and ways of life are only gaining traction, and permeating into our politics, our entertainment, and even into our day-to-day lives.  No matter what we do, we cannot escape the aggression of others.

What's most terrifying is that in this age of economic vulnerability, we may not be able to escape that aggression within ourselves.  In protecting ourselves, we have a responsibility to avoid the temptation to turn those with situations different from our own into villains who want nothing more than to strip us and our families of what we have.  We can protect ourselves without turning to hate.  We can also protect ourselves from hate directed at us while responsibly striving to improve our situation.

A wave of peace and rainbows isn't going to sweep over our society anytime soon and end the aggression, but if each of us acts, speaks, and thinks responsibly, we can at least turn that aggression into productivity and active discussion.  Hopefully discussions which will bring about the changes that will end our need to so fanatically protect what we hold dear.