My dream then morphed into some strange situation where the leader had taken romantic interest in me, and I was able to distract him with seduction while some rebel faction set bombs throughout the government building (castle?). I woke as I was running through the castle trying to warn the people to get out before the bomb went off.
I laid in bed for awhile, pondering the meaning of this. After about an hour of flipping back and forth in bed, I finally got up to write. It is now 2:17 am, and I am wondering why I am up. All I know is the muse in my head won't shut the hell up.
I feel the creeping sensation of pulling back from life. I just want peace. I live in a beautiful island, work at a 5 star resort, and don't watch tv anymore. I used to listen to my NPR station in my old city, but I get spotty reception here, and I rarely drive. If I didn't run a blog, I would close my social media accounts. This election result really bothered me, and I find that I am just hunkering down, much like I did through the Bush years.
I have often teased my family about our privilege. We are fairly educated white people. We may not be rich, but we do not typically want for food or shelter. We live in beautiful, coastal cities. When I was younger, I would fight with them over social justice and awareness, but the older I get, the more I understand them. It isn't that they are selfish or thoughtless or mean or even afraid; they are just wanting peace and quiet.
I went to dinner with my man last night in a mid-priced, waterfront restaurant, and I found that I was getting annoyed by everything. It was past 7 pm, and there was a child watching a video on her tablet, and it was so loud that I could hear it. Her father was speaking in a big voice that carried to our table. We were sitting by the water, and when a new family came in, the daughter pushed her was right by us to see the fish, and yell over her shoulder to her mom and dad to come look. She was practically touching my partner, she was so close. Her mother, rather half-heartedly, told her to wait until they had been seated. We ate quickly, as soon as our food had arrived, and were out of there in less than an hour.
I empathize with other people. I feel the plight of other cultures. I want to be a social justice warrior to stamp out racism and xenophobia. I vote for liberal causes, and I sign petitions, and I donate to causes that speak to me. I do not wish ill on anyone; just don't speak too loud or invade my space. I realize that there are cultural differences. I know this. I am ok with this. Ironically, I feel a warrior's heart in my chest. I know I could and would fight if the fight came to me. I just can't shake the feeling, though, that I don't want to be disrupted.
When I was going through massage school, they spoke of the term Homeostasis, which means, 1. the tendency of a system, especially the physiological system of higher animals, to maintain internal stability, owing to the coordinated response of its parts to any situation or stimulus that would tend to disturb its normal condition or function. 2. Psychology. a state of psychological equilibrium obtained when tension or a drive has been reduced or eliminated. I think this is truly what is driving the challenges we are facing. We all just want to find our zen, our happy place, but we are sharing space with different cultures, different belief systems, even different regional behaviors. It is made worse in larger cities, where diversity is inescapable.
Since our trip to Home Depot was a bust, we continued to Lowe's, which was down the road. I was tired of following him around, so I stayed in the car this time. I saw a truck driving slowly and suspiciously through the parking lot. He parked toward the back of the lot, and my immediate thought was "drug deal." I glanced around for another car, but saw none. After a minute, a young Hispanic man got out of the truck. He appeared to be speaking very loudly on (presumably) his telephone as he left the parking lot and walked out to the sidewalk of the very busy street. Some time later, I noticed that he had returned to his truck, and was fiddling around in the front seat with the door open. He then repeated his loud talking as he walked back to the sidewalk. I began to wonder if he was perhaps turning tricks? Was he mentally challenged? Was he doing this to protect himself by posing as a crazy person?
At this point, I was getting a bit antsy. I find that I am most comfortable in a medium size city, but being on the outskirts of a place like Miami and Homestead is most unsettling to me. There is too much traffic, and too many people. The energies exhaust and disrupt my peace of mind. I was very relieved when my partner finally emerged from the store, and thankfully, with the piece we needed. We could not get home quickly enough for me.
I'm rambling, I know. I needed to get these thoughts out of my head. Perhaps, I can sleep again, and not dream of rebellions and social upheaval. It's 3 am now, and I have a few more hours I can sleep before work in the morning.
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