Tag: drama

Let’s Restore Peace to the Playground of Life.

Alice LundyLeave a comment

“When we turn on light, darkness disappears.” ~ Marianne Williamson

We want black and white, good and bad, light and dark. We want to choose sides, draw lines and know we’re right—in the church we’ve chosen, the political party we’re affiliated with, and the side of the law “our” people are on, as if DNA hasn’t exonerated hundreds of falsely convicted.

It takes courage to examine the gray.

Personally, I like to draw a line and call Donald Trump the devil. Maybe, but maybe he’s the wake-up call our society has served itself. Maybe there’s some good there.

That thought is quite a stretch for me, but I actually like trying to understand, even when I disagree with other sides. I’m curious how people come to their conclusions.

While I’m a thousand miles from sharing certain ideologies, I can sometimes see, stretching into openness, how someone arrived. Sometimes I can imagine maybe if I was born to those parents, with that DNA and raised in those circumstances, with their challenges (or wealth and opportunities), I might conclude things that given my particular path I can’t fathom.

Curiosity is a start. Not just what do you believe, but how did you get there?

Maybe if I understand another’s journey, I can simply honor—for them—the seductiveness of a philosophy that’s foreign to me.

And yet, this consideration scares me, due to the rhetoric and bullsh*t I like believe I’m immune to. How many of us like to think I’m smarter than that?

Well, I’ve seen intelligent women fall for deceiving men (and vice versa), smart businesspeople fail, and good family members and friends vote for a charlatan.

I myself have been manipulated, multiple times. Then, I awoke.

Things I believed in my 20s and 30s no longer serve me. That doesn’t mean I was wrong. I was on my path.

Maybe that’s the best I can do—respect each has a path and invite light on mine. What I can’t do is become so understanding of darkness I go there.

I cannot condone hate. I cannot stand idle to the fall of our democracy, to mistreatment of children, animals or marginalized groups.

But, maybe I can say, “Yes, I see you there” because people want to be seen. I see you in your darkness. I won’t make you defend it.

I hope and pray with everything I’ve got that I may shine light. Not me alone, but together with other women and men walking in the light.

The truth is I’m afraid of the dark: violence, anger, hatred, judgement, self-righteousness. Screaming is enough to shake my soul. I’m a peaceful warrior.

For so long, I’ve been walking the path of peace and believing that was enough. Now, it’s time to awaken the warrior and spread the light.

I’m little in a sea of opposing forces. But, still I swim here. I live here. I love here. Collectively, I’m part of a new path. I’m walking in spite of my fear.

Why show up at all? For one, I have a beautiful little niece named Madeline who’s dancing in the light of childhood and innocence. Life will teach her many hard things. My hope is she doesn’t have to grow up into a world welcoming her with proof that darkness prevails.

Second, my mother fought for women’s rights. I witnessed that fight and naively believed it had been mostly won. No, the baton has been passed. I’m called to continue.

Third, my stepmom marched for civil rights. Doesn’t the name say it all? What happened to civility?

We, as a country, have turned cruel. We’re not embodying the basic principles most parents teach their children—kindness, fairness, decency, respect, showing up, not being bullies.

My God, I saw a group of middle-aged adults engaging in fist fights at their children’s high school graduation, over someone saving seats. Really?!

This is the playground of life. Some swing on the swings happily oblivious.

But, there’s a bully beating others to a pulp while a crowd chants, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” Someone runs to tell a teacher/leader, but they don’t want to jeopardize their comfort. So, they hang in the lounge pretending not to hear.

We must walk through the crowd of instigators and pull the bully off our democracy. We must say: Stop. That’s enough.

We don’t care who threw the first punch. We care about stopping the fight and restoring peace to the playground.

Sure, it’s more complicated than that. Or is it?

How to Open After Breaking.

I want to know: who flung those arrows into your heart, how did you escape the pain, and what have you learned about walking in this world?

Alice Lundy4 Comments

I wish to rip off your mask and talk deep with ease.

If you wish to know me, see me. If you wish to see me, look beyond the maintained by the manmade.

If you wish to make your way into my heart, open yours. I’ll look past your label, your name, and my subconscious assumptions I’d rather deny.

Please don’t put me on a pedestal unless your destination is disappointment.

I won’t dismiss you—today, but don’t book your expectations on me. I offer you no promises and tell you I’ve broken plenty in the past.

I promised forever and failed—twice.

I’ve also lived in the moment and given full-on, exercised-in-delight love.

I’ve changed men. Some woke up and others shattered.

With men, I’ve both expanded and become completely undone.

I’m the phoenix. I fly into the fire and come out transformed.

That’s why I leaped off a 50-foot telephone pole and walked across 40-feet of hot burning coals. Metamorphosis is what I do.

It’s my chosen path even when I attempt to avoid it, which I do less and less as I age. I welcome change because it’s coming.

I’d like to invite you with me, but I don’t know how long your destiny is meant to intertwine with mine.

Some main characters of yesterday are no longer on the page.

This isn’t a novel. I’m the author of this true story.

I have a say, but how many actors and factors come into play in a life? Prediction seems preposterous.

I’m a risk taker, but today I cling to certainties.

You’re on my path. That’s all I know.

I want to know more. I want to know: who flung those arrows into your heart, how did you escape the pain, and what have you learned about walking in this world? How did you learn to sing and what drives you to get up in the morning?

I want to know the answers below the answers. I yearn for soul connection.

It starts with the eyes. Yet, sometimes I turn away from yours. It’s the intimacy I crave colliding with my protection mechanisms.

I want to ask, why are you still here? And, thank God you’re still here.

Yet, I look away. I look away? Forgive me.

I’m afraid of the unknown, disappointing one more man, and death—yours—even though I don’t know you that well yet.

Only beyond words. From that other lifetime where we meant something to each other that’s been carried over here—in coincidences, synchronicities, habits, and conversational patterns.

So, lean in and tell me what you see in my eyes.

Maybe I need to go to the mirror before I can meet you where you are.

I wish to know you, to see you. I wish to rip off your mask, talk deep with ease, and listen like life is speaking.

I Divorced Drama

Alice LundyLeave a comment

I refuse to be disrespected. I’m not going to shut down so you can speak up. You don’t get to feel good at my expense. You’re responsible for you—your words, attitude and drama. I’m responsible for me—my voice, feelings, and sense of self.

I no longer keep people in my life who put me down, pull me down, or try to make me feel small. I do my best to build people up and surround myself with others who dare do the same.

If you’re grieving, struggling, feeling down, or going through a hard time, I’m there. I’ll listen until 3 a.m. or be your errand gal. I’ll do the shit that’s hard for you. Truly, whatever you need.

However, if your life screams drama because you attract it, are addicted to it, you’re easily offended, create conflict out of insignificance, or you consistently project or defend, sayonara baby. I wish you well. I’ve been you. I’ve spent enough time with characters who come from where you do.

“When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.” Well, I’m not your teacher or your fixer.

I’m the woman who walks down a new street.

I’m going somewhere different.

I divorced drama. Now, like the alcoholic who shouldn’t be in a bar, I cannot be around defeatists or those who want to argue, prove, one-up or one-down me.

I’ve got to surround myself with the winners of the world, the dreamers, the artists, writers, singers, dancers, life players and love makers. I spent a lifetime contorting and exposing my buttons to be pushed and crying poor me and me, too! But, no more!

I decided to stand up, to live this last half of my life (yep, going for 100!) as the gift that it is, be fully present for the people and experiences before me. I just can’t do that around the crazy makers and naysayers.

There’s a certain kind of person that can pull me in and suck me dry, make me think less of myself and wonder why I try.

Even if you don’t mean to, I’ve discovered who you are and what my reaction is to you. So, I’m out.

I’m out so I can be in. In truth. In authenticity. In courage. In joy. In forward movement. I’m out from the crowd and certain individuals who crush my spirit, even the well-meaning ones. I determine to expand like an eagle in flight, like a person sucking the marrow out of life. Can you dig it?

 

 

 

I refuse to be disrespected. I’m not going to shut down so you can speak up. You don’t get to feel good at my expense. You’re responsible for you—your words, attitude and drama. I’m responsible for me—my voice, feelings, and sense of self.

I no longer keep people in my life who put me down, pull me down, or try to make me feel small. I do my best to build people up and surround myself with others who dare do the same.

If you’re grieving, struggling, feeling down, or going through a hard time, I’m there. I’ll listen until 3 a.m. or be your errand gal. I’ll do the shit that’s hard for you. Truly, whatever you need.

However, if your life screams drama because you attract it, are addicted to it, you’re easily offended, create conflict out of insignificance, or you consistently project or defend, sayonara baby. I wish you well. I’ve been you. I’ve spent enough time with characters who come from where you do.

“When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.” Well, I’m not your teacher or your fixer.

I’m the woman who walks down a new street.

I’m going somewhere different.

I divorced drama. Now, like the alcoholic who shouldn’t be in a bar, I cannot be around defeatists or those who want to argue, prove, one-up or one-down me.

I’ve got to surround myself with the winners of the world, the dreamers, the artists, writers, singers, dancers, life players and love makers. I spent a lifetime contorting and exposing my buttons to be pushed and crying poor me and me, too! But, no more!

I decided to stand up, to live this last half of my life (yep, going for 100!) as the gift that it is, be fully present for the people and experiences before me. I just can’t do that around the crazy makers and naysayers.

There’s a certain kind of person that can pull me in and suck me dry, make me think less of myself and wonder why I try.

Even if you don’t mean to, I’ve discovered who you are and what my reaction is to you. So, I’m out.

I’m out so I can be in. In truth. In authenticity. In courage. In joy. In forward movement. I’m out from the crowd and certain individuals who crush my spirit, even the well-meaning ones. I determine to expand like an eagle in flight, like a person sucking the marrow out of life. Can you dig it?