Day 29

I started this blog as a way to document my efforts to live according to principles of nonviolence. Mostly I find myself writing about what's most alive for me on any given day. That's OK because I believe living nonviolently first and foremost requires awareness. It is most important to be aware of where my energy is focused. Sometimes my energy is focused on a conflict between myself and someone else. Sometimes what is most alive for me is gratitude for the simple comforts in my life or joy in making a connection with someone I love.

Some days it is hard to hone in on what is most alive for me. Sometimes my mind is less active and my thoughts less focused. Cows don't produce milk every minute of every day. Sometimes they just stand in the field chewing cud - that too is essential to the creative process.

This weekend I have spent a lot of time chewing cud. I made cookies and changed sheets and graded papers and read a book but I didn't think any big thoughts or feel inspired to create. Maybe tomorrow I will write my manifesto or find a way to end poverty. For today I rest. That's good too.

Day 28

My head is as empty as a hollow gourd today. I considered not writing because I can't seem to latch onto a thought for more than a minute or two. Then I thought, why not just focus on my present state and just see where it goes?



I am feeling calm, relaxed, at ease. This is interesting given that my last blog was focused on how uptight I was feeling. Was that a mere 24 hours ago? Perhaps I am a rapid cycling bi-polar. Most people I know experience these kinds of tectonic emotional shifts on a regular basis. One minute we're up, the next minute we're down. I suspect it's fairly normal (whatever that means).



My wise-woman-friend Leeanne told me something I have been pondering for months. She said that our feelings are really only good for one thing, they point us to our needs. That really blew my mind. First, because I had always invested so much in feelings, like they were jewels to be mined and polished and displayed. And second because I had never considered their actual usefulness.



Yesterday I had some unmet needs. I needed ease and order and tranquility. Today my needs are being satisfied. I had a good time with my friends last night which seemed to fill me up. Today I enjoyed a relatively stress free day at home with the person I love.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

Day 27

I love the saying "wound a little tight" as in "Wow, she is wound a little tight." I like it because it so describes how I feel at times, like today. I feel like an old clock with springs about to burst.

I went to a meeting today for an organization that I am committed to but frustrated with. I am impatient and want action - NOW! I got a letter from the graduate school telling me that I still need to take a couple of classes in order to complete my degree - a degree I have been working on for almost 5 years. At the moment I am trapped in red tape. In order to prove myself worthy of a PhD I must untangle myself. Bureaucracy sucks! I am having friends over for dinner. Sounds fun, right? It will be if I manage to quit worrying about my lack of domestic talent. Clearly I am not Martha Stewart. In fact I nearly flunked 8th grade home economics and never set foot in a classroom with ovens and sewing machines again. So, why do I care if my pasta is al dente and my bread is store bought?

Oh yeah, I need to breath...

Day 26

There is something about finishing a good book that is a little like saying goodbye to an old friend. I sometimes even put off finishing so I can linger a little longer with authors I enjoy.

I just finished Cleaving: A Story of Marriage, Meat and Obsession by Julie Powell. She is also the author of Julie and Julia, my inspiration for starting a blog. She is so bold in the way she shares her personal experiences and reflections. I felt like I was being dared to do the same.

Near the end of Cleaving she recalls an emotional conversation with her husband. He says: "Life is messy. I'm tired of being scared of that...Things are going to happen, or not happen, and life is going to change, one way or the other, and I am tired of being terrified, angry that I can't keep everything the same, the way it was."

Wow, I love it when a passage jumps off the page and smacks me in the head.

I have always been a neat freak: always straightening, organizing, trying to rein in the chaos. It is my unwillingness to accept the messiness that has led to so much suffering in my life.

LIFE IS MESSY! EMBRACE THE CHAOS!

Perhaps this will be my new mantra.

Day 25

I just told a friend that I am a "praise whore" meaning that I will do just about anything for a few "atta girls." This isn't entirely accurate. I'm more like a "praise junkie." Come to think of it, praise is a lot like smack. In the beginning it makes you feel great, no problem. Then you start to crave it. You want more and more. You and those you love are shocked by what you are willing to do to get that high. Ultimately, when you don't have it you're sick, you feel like you might die. OK, maybe that's a little melodramatic but you get the picture.

I have gone through periods in my life when my actions were the subject of praise: in school, in jobs, in relationships...It feels great but the fear sets in immediately. You start to think: they love me know but what if I screw up...Oh, my God I can't screw up. You know it's only a matter of time. You will screw up. Once you've been put on a pedestal the fall is so much more painful.

So now I am a little leery of praise. I tell myself: don't believe everything they say, even if it feels great to hear it. Because if I believe what they say when I am up, on top of the world, don't I also have to accept the bad press...oh yeah, there will inevitably be bad press.

Marshall Rosenberg talks about an alternative to praise. He encourages people to share with him what he does or can do to make their lives more enjoyable. This sounds more like a shot of vitamin B than a fix. Still, this praise thing might be a hard habit to break.

Day 24

2:00 a.m. I emerged from a cloud of sleep, becoming increasingly aware of a low, pulsating electronic alarm. It was somewhere in my bedroom. I finally identified the annoyance emanating from my partner's wristwatch right before it subsided. Unfortunately, I was wide awake at this point. It wasn't long before my thoughts were teeming. I laid in bed for another hour toying with a variety of ideas. At 3:00 a.m. it was clear that there would be no more sleep for me. They say that 3:00 a.m. is the witching hour. I know that it is the time when it is most difficult to quiet my thoughts. The great thing about a blog is that it gives you a tidy place to store those thoughts.

I woke up thinking about a phone conversation I had yesterday. A close friend called and said: "I'm feeling kind of down today." I said: "What's going on?" He went on to describe some recent thoughts about himself and life in general, some of which he found disturbing.

This got me thinking...

When he says, "I'm feeling down" what does he mean?

I think he means I am sad. Feelings are, in many ways, a sensory experience, just like seeing or smelling. However, our egos try to convince us that feelings are something else. We begin to try to interpret our feelings, tie them to events and circumstances, instead of merely experiencing them as they arise and fall away.

So my friend says, "I am feeling down, because..." Interesting. We never say: I see clouds in the sky because...Instead we merely see. Images come into our range of sight and pass through. We don't ask why.

Another thing about feelings...I have noticed that there is a pattern to my friend's feelings. He often feels "down." I, on the other hand, often feel scared. I describe these feelings as worried, nervous, anxious. But they are all fear. My friend's most prevalent feeling seems to be sadness.

Perhaps we feel certain ways because of patterns that are established early on. I had an insecure, unstable childhood. Did I learn to be afraid? Did my friend have a childhood filled with grief? How do we break these patterns?

For me, there is an antidote to fear. It is present moment awareness. I often have to remind myself that in this moment I am safe. I may not know what the future holds, but for right now I have nothing to fear. I sometimes even say to myself: I am safe.

What about my sad friend? Is there an antidote to sadness? I think that sadness must come from unresolved grief. When a person is given the space and support for grieving perhaps the sadness dissipates like clouds passing through consciousness.

It is 4:51 am and these are my ramblings. Please don't judge, lest you wake at 3:00 am bewitched by strange thoughts. And now for breakfast...

Day 23

I have a friend who is in a lot of pain right now. So often when people share their pain with me, they tack on apologies. "I am so sorry to dump this on you...I don't want to impose..." There is no need to apologize. In fact, I am honored when someone decides to share their pain with me. It is an instant opportunity to connect. Isn't that why we're all here?

Sometimes I struggle with how to respond to a friend in pain. Should I share on the same level so that they don't feel so alone? Should I offer advice? Should I provide comfort in the form of a hug, a cup of tea or a bottle of tequila? I admit, I have often felt lost at those moments when I sit with a friend in tears.

A few years ago I went through a very painful period. I lost my job, my husband was sick and my son moved away from home. I felt lost and alone. What I needed more than anything was to just feel the pain. I needed to let it wrap itself around me like a cocoon. I didn't want comfort or proposed solutions to my various life dilemmas. I just wanted empathy. I wanted someone to sit with me and listen to my pain and let it be. Fortunately I found a really great therapist who knew how to do that (unfortunately in my experience most therapist are not prepared to do this).

I am still learning how to do this for my friends but my intention is strong. I will keep practicing. Our culture doesn't provide much training or support in this area. Wouldn't it be great if we had a custom around empathy? What if, when someone is in pain, their friends would gather to offer empathy? We could call it an Empathy Party (because that sounds so much more inviting than a pain party and I certainly don't want to have a pity party). We could all wear our pajamas to keep it comfortable. We could serve tea and chocolate cake and maybe a little tequila. Mostly we would just listen and cry together.

Day 22

I spent most of my day facilitating a planning session for the board of a local nonprofit. It was fun and interesting. However, there were a number of times during the day when one person in the group pointed out the shortcomings (as he saw them) in the process I was using. I found myself getting defensive. I knew that I could easily get drawn into a pissing contest with this person. Instead, I paid attention to what I was feeling, then I tried to hone in on what he might need. I allowed him to be the expert and guide the process at key points. I took a step back, recognizing that any perceived conflict was an illusion. At the end of the day he complemented me and the job I did as facilitator. I felt victorious in spite of avoiding the battle.

Day 21

Today is Donna's birthday. She is 46 years old. We were friends from the time we were both 8. I haven't talked to her in almost two years. That's the math. I, however, am a person who prefers stories to equations.

For many years I referred to Donna as my "best friend." When we were teenagers she moved across the country to live with my family. Later, when we were in our 20's I made the move to be near her. We made the decision to go to college together and graduated on the same day. She was there when I divorced. I was there while she recovered from surgery.

A few years ago we drifted apart. I was never sure why. There was just this distance between us. Maybe it had to do with her health problems. Maybe it had to do with my new marriage. I don't know. I tried to reconnect but didn't know how. Then she sent me the equivalent of a "Dear John Letter" via email. I has hurt but knew that I needed to let go of this friendship.

I still wish it could have been different. But more and more the grief is giving way to new possibility. And wherever Donna is today, I hope she is having a great birthday.

Day 20

Since I started blogging I have had many questions about privacy, from myself and others. How much can I and should I share? Where are the boundaries of good taste and emotional safety? Isn't it risky to reveal my most intimate thoughts and feelings?

I have been called an emotional exhibitionist. I never saw any reason to hide what I feel and think. Of course this has at times created discomfort for me and for those around me. But I guess I am kind of like those people who enjoy extreme sports, only I prefer to keep my feet literally on the ground. I love the thrill of taking an emotional risk, walking an emotional tightrope. It makes me feel more alive to reveal to others what is on the inside.

Most people hide their insides from the rest of the world. As a result, I spent most of my life going around comparing my insides with everybody else's outsides, assuming that I was different and flawed. Shame seems to grow best in dark. isolated places. What I've learned from those people who have been willing to share with me on an intimate level is that fear and loneliness and grief are part of the human condition, as are joy, hope and love.

When I share my thoughts and feelings it is with the understanding that on the inside we are all more alike than different. There is a sense of safety in that, a kind of emotional safety net that promises to break the free fall. As cliche as it might be, I love the line spoken between the two main characters in Avatar: "I see you." What if we really could see each other, from the inside out?

Day 19

I learned how to make cranes out of paper last week. Some people call these peace cranes. I have probably made 50 of them so far. This really isn't like me. I don't generally like these kinds of activities. In fact, I used to think that there was some kind of disconnect between my brain and my hands. I am not crafty. So, why am I so obsessed with these little birds?

There is a Japanese legend that suggests that a person who makes 1000 paper cranes will be granted a wish. There is a famous story of a little girl who was poisoned by radiation when the bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. She tried to make 1000 cranes before she died. Since her death, the cranes have been a symbol of peace around the world.

This is my year of peace. I am trying to live according to the principles of nonviolence. It is not easy for me. I often believe that even my own reactions, thoughts and feelings are beyond my control. It is easy to feel powerless when we want to create peace. I guess that making these little cranes is something I can do. For the minute or two that it takes me to make a crane I am focused on nothing else. Each crane is like a meditation on peace. Sometimes that's all I have to give.

Day 18

Have you ever had this conversation:

You: Do you want to go out to dinner?

Other: Sure. Where do you want to go?

You: I don't know. Where do you want to go?

Other: I don't know. You decide.

I have it all the time with my partner and it sometimes goes on for an embarrassingly long time. Sometimes we give up and eat at home.

Why is it so hard to ask for what I want? Probably because most of the time I'm not even sure what I want. I suppose that most of us are not encouraged as children to know our needs, much less ask others to accommodate them.

So here I am a middle age (ugh) person in transition with so many possible roads to choose from and I find myself hesitating. What road should I choose? What do I really want? It's like trying to tune an old AM radio. Mostly I hear static. Other times I get a DJ blaring in Spanish or country-western. Neither suit my ears. I guess I'll just keep fiddling with the knobs until I get it right. I suspect it will sound something like Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah.

Day 17

My friend Leeanne and I planned a class and only two people signed up. I have this nightmare about throwing a party that no one comes to. It brings up my fear of rejection big time. So today I am still struggling a little bit with that. Leeanne and I decided not to plan another class together. I am a little sad about that. I am grieving the loss of this little dream I had for our partnership. Life is so full of these little losses. They remind us that nothing is really ours outside of this moment. When I am not so sad I will regroup and consider moving ahead without Leeanne as a partner.

Day 16

I got up this morning thinking about how great my life is right now. I am enjoying my relationship with my partner. I am negotiating a new, more adult relationship with my son. I have incredible friends. And I am about to finish my Ph.D. and embark on new and meaningful work. The bluebirds were just about to land on my shoulders when, WHAMMY, out of nowhere I got hit with a major attack of insecurity.

It started innocently enough with an email. A friend was asking about a class I committed to teach - a reminder that it is scheduled to start next Monday - a week from today. Only two people are signed up at this point.

I started tallying up all of my shortcomings and comparing myself to other, more competent recruiters and facilitators. Suddenly, I was back in high school. It was my sophomore year and I was the new kid (again). For the most part I maintained a low profile. I thought of myself as the invisible girl. A few weeks into the school year another new girl arrived. She seemed to be instantly popular. By spring she was elected student body president. I was still the invisible girl. I felt like such a loser. Some days I still do.

I had a little cry and let myself sit with the disappointment over my class. Then I called a friend and made a plan to regroup. Maybe tomorrow there will be bluebirds.

Day 17

I didn't write yesterday. I don't want to write today. But here I am. I am writing because I struggle with the choice between giving in to what I want at any given moment and doing what I committed to at some earlier point.


For example, I often commit to new "eating plans." Some people may be unfamiliar with this term (eating plan) however, if you are one of the growing (no pun intended) group of people who are obsessed with weight and diet you have no doubt used it. If you are like me and some of my closest friends you may use it obsessively. Anyway, this is how it goes...I commit to, say, give up chocolate on Sunday when I am feeling particularly disgusted with my weight and my lack of self control. I decide to start on Monday. My resolve is strong on Monday morning. By Monday afternoon, I have seen about a thousand advertisements for products with names like Bliss and Chocolate Decadence with promises of creamy goodness and pure indulgence. I want to be give in. I want to be pleasured (Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here?).


So this is the struggle. I have competing needs: the need to be pleasured versus the need for integrity. This is a common dilemma. One of my favorite writers on nonviolent communication is Kelly Bryson. He works with kids and encourages them when faced with a choice to choose the most selfish option. What is most in my best interest at any given moment? I'm still struggling. But I did write today.

Day 15

I just love it when I get immediate validation for a change in behavior. I call it instant karma.

Yesterday I was on the phone with someone from the medical clinic where I recently had some tests done. It seems that my insurance wasn't in force at the time because I failed to fill out the proper forms. In my previous life I would have ranted and raved and demanded and cursed which generally left me embarrassed and still footing the bill.

Yesterday, I felt the urge to fight back but I stopped myself and took a breath. I asked the billing clerk if there were any provisions for someone in my circumstances. I explained that it would be difficult for me to pay the bill. She told me that they could write off part of the bill but I would have to pay the rest. I reluctantly accepted my fate.

Later I dropped a form off at her office. Surprise! She told me that she found a way to get the bills covered. I would owe almost nothing. I feel a little like one of Pavlov's dogs. I feel myself being conditioned toward civility. I guess you can teach an old dog...

Day 14

I went to a movie with my son yesterday and then out to dinner. I told him that I am worried that he will flunk out of college. He assured me that he has no such intention. Then he said that he really needs me to "back off," to give him more "emotional space." OUCH. I think my son is breaking up with me.

We talked about the specifics. I agreed to call less often, ask fewer questions, in short, give him "space." At the same time I am struggling with a variety of emotional responses. I appreciate that my son is able to make such a request of me. But I could also feel the fear creeping up on me as we talked. I have defined myself as a mom for all of my adult life. If I am not actively playing the role of mom, who am I? What will happen to the relationship between me and my son if I am not actively attending to it? Is he telling me that he doesn't value our relationship as much as I do? What does this say about me?

This is just the kind of thing that has so often caused me to act in ways I regret. Rejection. That is my hot button. Any perceived rejection is met with overwhelming sadness, often followed by anger. I strike out because I am hurt and lonely, feelings I refuse to acknowledge or attend to.

Today, I am learning to sit with these feelings. to let wash over me, teach me. So that is where I sit today. I sit with the sadness of having my son move a step away from me.

Day 13

I think that I have a very specific form of Alzheimer's. I keep forgetting why I need to meditate. I try to sit everyday for about 20 minutes. Inevitably, I skip a day because I get busy with other things. Just as predictably, I start to get agitated, anxious, worried, angry...Then it occurs to me. Oh yeah, I haven't made time to sit in 3 days.

Is it possible that I need these fluctuations to remind me to take care of myself?

Day 12

One thing I know for sure - when I am really able to connect with another person and be together in a space of mutual understanding and respect, the possibility of violence, in any form, is greatly reduced. And yet, I realize daily just have difficult that is to do.

My partner and I have a great friendship. We spend many hours everyday together. We talk often. However, for the last few days I have wanted to have a serious conversation with him about a particular issue and can't seem to find the right time and space. We are so caught up in our daily routines it seems like a challenge to connect on anything more than a superficial level.

Day 11

So far this blog has been little more than a personal diary. I suspect that it is emotional, overwrought, self-indulgent. I feel the need to pause and reflect on what I am doing here. My intention was to try to make a connection between the internal processes and external behaviors that are part of a cycle of violence in my life. Perhaps I haven't made that connection as well as I would like.

I recently came to the realization that I can only cultivate nonviolence in a context of awareness. In other words, I have to be awake and aware in order to choose nonviolence as a way of life. For me, part of learning to be awake and aware is identifying my thoughts, feelings and needs.

Yesterday I was worried about my son - about the possibility that he could flunk out of college. I have a need for freedom at this point in his life, freedom from the responsibilities of parenthood. I would enjoy knowing that he is self-sufficient and no longer needs me to take care of him. He has demonstrated that in some areas of his life, but not for long and I am not trusting that he will be able to continue.

Today, I decided to focus on practicing empathy toward my son. This took the focus off of my own needs for a while. I know that my son is scared and uncertain about his ability to make it in college and in the world. He wants to have a voice and make a meaningful contribution but he is insure about how to do that. He wants to be independent. He is once again uncertain about how to negotiate our relationship as mother and son.

How can I get my needs met in my relationship with my son? How can I support him in getting his needs met? Clearly if we are each able to get our needs met we are less likely to revert to controlling (my tendency) or retreating and isolating (his tendency). These behaviors are a form of violence - something I hope to transform in my own life.

Day 10

I skipped a day (Day 9) and I feel like a total loser. I committed to blog everyday for a year and here I am in week 2 and I've already skipped a day. I should be severely punished. Granted I did finish my dissertation and I have been exhausted but I MADE A COMMITMENT.

I guess I have always been a stickler for this kind of thing. If I say I am going to do something, I do. My dad was an alcoholic - totally unreliable. I was determined to be different - if not altogether sane. I do realize that my rigidity borders on being pathological at times. I live by a rigid set of rules - rules I refuse to compromise.

As you might imagine, this leads to problems. For example, lately I have been worried that my son will flunk out of school and move back in with us. I told a friend this yesterday and she said, "You don't have to let him move in with you." My response: "I could never turn him away if he didn't have a place to stay." See another rule: If your child needs a place to stay, you as a parent have to provide one for him. Hmmm. Is it possible that some of these rules not only could but should be changed?

Day 8

I plan to finish my dissertation today. I have been working on it for almost two years. For months now I have thought: This dissertation is the only thing standing between me and my dreams. There are things I would like to accomplish but can't because I have to do my dissertation first...

And there in lies the rub. I want to finish but I am scared to finish. After today there is nothing standing between me and my dreams. Oh sure, I can always manufacture something, but it would seem disingenuous after so many months telling myself otherwise.

It's time to step off the cliff into the unknown.

Day 7

FEAR! The gremlin that occupies so much of my psychic space can also be called by this name. Whereas anxiety is more clinical, implying possible treatment, a pill somewhere by which it can be eradicated, fear is more earthy, more primordial, difficult to pin down. It is like a fog.

Fear is the wall that so often separates me from others. Judging, lashing out, demanding, these are all strategies I use to protect myself, trying to stay safe, never really certain what I am protecting myself from.

Day 6

I used to work in a psychiatric hospital where they use something called the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM) to label the various forms of pathology that patients presented with. What I learned is that if you observe people closely and you search the manual carefully, you can find a psychiatric disorder to fit just about anyone. As my partner says: "No one emerges from the DSM unscathed."

Anyway, my official diagnosis is anxiety. It is like a Gremlin that has followed me through most of my life. Sometimes he is relatively quiet - I hardly notice that he is there. Other times he is loud and obnoxious. He likes to focus on the "what ifs." What if you don't find a job? What if you get sick? What if your husband / son / mother / friend is in an accident? He likes to wake me up at 3:00 a.m. with his insipid questioning.

Today that little Gremlin seems to have taken over. I woke up worried about an upcoming medical appointment. It is just for a few routine tests. But, what if they find something? I lose my insurance in a few months when I graduate from the PhD program I have been in for 5 years. Oh, and about that. What am I going to do with the rest of my life?

Bottom line...I am scared. Wow, just writing those words made the Gremlin shrink just a little. Maybe acceptance is his kryptonite.

Day 5

My partner and I had an argument last night. We have been together for about 13 years so we have had hundreds of fights over the years. What I've found is that how we fight is much more important than what we are fighting about. I am trying to learn to listen more, to put aside my needs at times in order to attend to his needs, to speak to my feelings and needs and avoid blaming and demanding.

Still I am not always the kind of fighter I would like to be. What I notice is that there is a moment when I begin to feel disconnected from my partner. It usually goes like this...he says something that I find hurtful...my lizard brain takes over...I am in defense mode...I am determined to prove that I am not only right, but a good person, a loveable person...my needs grow so large I can no longer hear his needs...I try a variety of defensive strategies to get my needs met...I yell...I cry...I run away.

I am trying to change this pattern. Yesterday we went through the whole cycle before I was able to stop myself and hear my partner's feelings and needs. I suspect that this thing called "marriage" is an ongoing project. Someday I hope to be better at it.

Day 4

I have been studying nonviolent communication (NVC) (http://www.cnvc.org/) for a few years now. I know that NVC offers strategies and tools that can help people to connect more effectively. I have seen the evidence that NVC works in my own life, particularly in my relationships with my partner and with my son. However, I still struggle with this habit I have of making enemies. It happens all the time. For example, I went into Walgreens a few days ago. I picked up an item that appeared to be on sale. When I got to the checkout the sale price did not ring up. I went back and showed the cashier that the sale price was displayed on the shelf. She said: “Oh, someone forgot to remove the label.” I was immediately angry. At the risk of sounding petty, I really did see that cashier as my enemy. She wasn’t just a young woman trying to make a living, she was a representative of “the man,” this big, ugly corporation that was trying to rip me off.

The incident at Walgreen’s really made me think. How can I begin to deconstruct the thinking that leads to making enemies and has, in the past, led me to act in aggressive ways? It seems to me that awareness is the key. So often my actions seem automatic because I am unaware of the thoughts that led to my behavior. I need to learn to slow down my thinking and be more mindful. One of my heroes is the Dali Lama. Can you imagine being exiled by invaders who seemingly have no right to your homeland? I imagine myself in this situation as full of rage. The Dali Lama, however, is the picture of peace. How does he do that? That is one of the questions I intend to explore this year.

My intention in this blog is to examine my thoughts, feelings, habits and other behaviors on a daily basis to see when and how I am inclined to make enemies. I hope that by being more aware I will learn to act in more compassionate ways.

Day 3

A few years ago I began to question: how well has this victim – oppressor worldview worked for me? Being a fighter has at times cost me more than I wanted to pay in the form of lost friendships, lost jobs and lost energy. It has, however, had some benefits. It helped me forge alliances and connect with other people at times. Granted these alliances were based on our shared status as victims and/or our common enemies. Another benefit of this worldview is the sense of self-righteousness that accompanies ongoing warfare. Mostly I refused to give up my role as a fighter because I believed that I if I wasn’t a fighter I would merely be a victim, with no choice but to succumb to abuse.

Are these the only two choices: to succumb to abuse or fight back? Is it possible to see people who act in ways that are harmful to me not as enemies but as fellow human beings struggling to get through life the best way they know how? Is it possible to graciously accept the things that happen to me, the good and the bad, without resistance or anger? These are the questions that resonated with me when I decided to start this blog.

Day 2

The idea for my resolution first started brewing a few months ago. My mom called me very upset about something that was happening to my brother and his wife. They are involved in a lawsuit that has been dragging on for years. My sister-in-law is permanently disabled as the result of a work related injury. I will spare you the sad details. Suffice to say, my mom was angry at the lawyers and insurance company representatives who seem unable to settle this claim. She was talking about how unfair this David and Goliath battle seems to be. I tried to empathize with her but found that I was frustrated with her position. It took me a while to figure out what was bothering me.

I kept coming back to the conversation I had with my mom over the next few days. I came to realize that I have spent much of my life angry over just the sort of injustice that my mother was talking about. Growing up, I was one of those kids who was always crying: “That’s not fair!” I lived in a poor neighborhood and was raised by a single mother. We moved a lot and I was often the “new kid” in school. These circumstances, no doubt, made me more aware of how power and privilege operate.

My mom is an incredible woman. She married to escape an abusive home and had me at the age of 17. I suppose that a lot of what she taught me about the world was based on her own experience: the experience of being not only a victim but also a fighter. The story she told me over and over again in so many ways went like this: life is not fair, people like us get abused and taken advantage of every day, we have to keep fighting back, it is the only way to keep our spirits alive. My mom taught me to be a warrior. As a warrior I learned, first and foremost, to identify my enemies.

That day on the phone, as I listened to my mom rail against the insurance companies and the lawyers, I found myself resisting. My mom was casting my brother and his wife as the victims, small and insignificant, waging an epic battle against enemies they have little chance of defeating. Looking back I came to realize that I had often cast myself and others in much the same way: me as the victim, those who disagree with or oppose me as the dominators, the oppressors, my enemies.

Day 1

Happy New Year! I am usually not one for resolutions. This year, however, I am making an exception. My resolution? To live this year without enemies. Granted, most of my enemies live in my head, but they are the hardest ones to defeat. I am committing myself to 365 days of nonviolence.