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Sunday, June 7, 2015

What is Courage?

What is Courage?  noun cour·age \ˈkər-ij, ˈkə-rij\
: the ability to do something that you know is difficult or dangerous

     There seems to be an issue with this word lately. I can only hope that people start to understand that just because you don't like what a person chose to do, or if you don't agree with it or their life style that doesn't make that person less courageous. In fact, the more people who have issue with something a person does, I think lends credence to the fact that what they did was courageous. We are all courageous in many ways every day.
    You don't need to have battled cancer to be courageous. Nor do you have to have been a soldier. You can be a student who stands up to a bully, a woman who finally looks someone in the eyes and stands up for herself. A man who saves a animal from abuse. It is taking that first step.  Dressing yourself for the first time and trying again when you get it wrong.  It is being friends with someone because you like them even though others do not.  It take courage to try a new food, or to try a new religion that appeals to you.  It takes a lot of courage to do it in front of the world.  It is being you!

     If you find it difficult to do and do it, then you are courageous. There is no measurement for what is courageous except what you believe and allow yourself to accomplish. If you don't believe a person did something courageous keep it to yourself. Courage is personal to the one doing the action, not the one witnessing it. You are not them and you do not know how they view the world.  Nor do they view the world as you do.
     If someone is getting an award for their courage and you don't agree they should receive it, or think someone else is more deserving, it is more than acceptable to start your own award for recognition of courage.
     But if another agency that you are not part of chooses to recognize someones courage they are allowed to as well.  It is impossible for everyone in the world to agree on who should receive a single award.  Courage is not something that can be measure equally by everyone because we are all individual with our own set of life experiences and schema.  

Friday, June 5, 2015

Such a Long Hard Day and then Happiness

My son had his spring concert this week, I found out about it from my ex on the day before the concert, luckily I was able to make it.  He even saved a seat for me up front so I would be able to see and record it.  It meant I had to sit next to him but I figured we were in public so...

The same day, same time and in the same building my daughter had three pieces in the school district's art show.  At first my ex suggested I go to one and he go to the other, I guess not realizing they were just a few dozen feet apart from each other.   Though he insisted that he go to our son's concert no matter what.  That upset me a little because he seemed to brush aside our daughter accomplishments by saying that.  Eventually I got him to understand that we could do both, even if not on the same night the art show was a two day event.

P did great in the concert, the precision ensemble that his is part of got to play the piece they won first place with at a recent competition.  It was long, almost two hours and the order of the concert was not as written so I admit I was a bit exasperated when it was over.  It was a long day for me and I had been up and busy since 6 am.  It was not almost 8 pm and I wanted to see B's pics in the art show which was supposed to be over at 8 pm.

 We had to pick up P first and the ex seemed to not be able to figure out how to leave the auditorium.  I saw some parents I hadn't seen in a while and mingled a little as we waited for P.  Then when my guard was down my ex decided to nag me about a bill I was supposed t pay the weekend I was mugged.

Now this is a school district I work in.  Many of the students in the hallway are students I have taught.  Many of the parents in the hallway are parents of students I am teaching.  They see me and point me out to their parents.  That is my substitute teacher they say and they are happy to see me.  When I am at my children's school I consider myself to be on the job.  It is not the time or place to talk to me about a bill that I told him two weeks ago I wouldn't be able to pay because I was mugged.  I needed another paycheck.  He said he understood.

It is not the time or place to say loudly that I am inconsiderate because I work enough that I should be able to pay a bill.  It is not a time or place to have an argument with me about paying bills.  I asked him to stop and saw happily that the door to the art show was still open and I could go in.  I had hoped he would drop it because we were going to be looking at our daughter's art work.  I should have known better.

So I go in, our daughter is giddy with excitement.  She shows us her clay monster and he is still going on about the phone bill and how he is going to shut the phone off and switch companies because I won't pay the $40.00.  I know that I would get paid in just two days and I can pay it then, but he has no interest in what I can do.  Only in what I didn't do.  I try to focus on B's second art piece, beautiful pumpkins.  She is telling me all about it and I have to try to tune out my exes nagging so I can hear her.

Finally I see her last piece, "Kitty World" and she is so proud.  I want to be able to focus entirely on her, but my son is complain that he wants to go home, my ex is calling me horrible things in front of my students.  I hug her and tell her how proud I am, I hug P and tell him his concert was wonderful and say I have to go.  I remind P I am picking him up on Saturday for a sleep over at my place and he adds the final nail to a horrible fifteen minutes and tells me he doesn't want to sleep at my house.  I know it is Aspergers and the fact that he is 12 but I can't take any more and I rush out of there fighting back the tears.

When I get to my car I can't stop the tears anymore and I cry almost all the way home.  I get there and collapse on the couch and manage to talk to the people I live with.  They listen to me and offer me some comfort.  I need to just curl up in a ball and sleep so I get my mail and go to bed.  One envelope is which is thicker than the others.  It is from my exes lawyer.  I don't want to open it, assuming it is just another delay to our divorce.  But I do...

I am DIVORCED!  After a horrible time with my ex, where once again he reminded me why I left him I find out that I am no longer his wife!  I am single!  I am free!  Pure joy!  Happiness!