Life Lessons

I have racked my brain over and over again tonight, trying to think of something interesting to write about. I've started to write about past teachers and friendships. I even tried to write about that infamous question we all find ourselves asking some time or another, "What if?"

Nothing was speaking to me so I started reading my old ramblings from years gone by. (Wow, that makes me sound old...)

This is what I discovered.

I used to be so angry; questioning every authority figure from my parents to politics to God. I just wanted answers to all of the many questions that haunted me throughout each day. It was infuriating that no one seemed to understand or even care what I was going through...what I was putting myself through.

It started when I was in 8th grade, though I don't think I realized that until recently. It was this time in my life that everything began to change. My school went to Washington D.C. that year to see, first hand, all of the history that is our country.

Most of the kids were just excited to be away from their parents for a whole 4 nights and 5 days. I was just excited to see a part of the world I had never seen before.

It was a rude awakening.

So vividly, I remember looking out the bus window, not seeing the rows and rows of columns from all of the huge buildings and monuments, but rows and rows of people lying on the pavement, some with blankets, many without. I didn't understand. The President lived right down the street. Why would he let so many people freeze and starve?

I just didn't understand. Years later, I still don't get it.

Everyone who knows anything about me, knows first and foremost that I am a deeply sensitive being. This was just too much for my 13 year old mind to handle. I almost preferred to be that naive, small town girl... and to stay that way forever. But after that experience, I would never, and have never been the same.

We all have our coming of age stories; something that occurs in our lives that makes us start forming opinions and thoughts of our own. We no longer rely on our parents and teachers to give us the answers because we soon realize that they are just as clueless as we are. It's a hard lesson to learn.

I think I held my feelings about all of this "reality" in for so long that it began coming out in spurts years later. I was a hippie who wanted a revolution of change, but found only frustration in not being able to create that change myself. So I got discouraged and tried to understand society and life better through writing bad poetry, listening to Ani Difranco and wearing patchwork pants.

Nothing could reach me and I could reach nothing. I was a lost soul of sorts trying so hard to resist conforming into what I knew "everyone else" wanted me to be. I fought for this "unknown" for so long and for awhile suddenly became apathetic; almost zombie like.

It's ironic how many of us fight so hard for peace. It soon becomes a war in itself.

I still find myself fighting the same battle from time to time. It's definitely decreased in intensity but it still lingers. And I still want answers. I still want to save the world.

I've just learned to not let it take complete hold of me, even though some days, I still just want to scream out...

"WHY?"

"Imagine all the people living life in peace."
John Lennon