A not very righteous anger

The plan was to write about wheels (for my photo challenge) for this post, yet so often my finger have their own story... and my fingers are never happy fingers, until they find their voice and speak their truth. Today, my fingers feel the need to confess.

As may be obvious to anyone who knows my story or has read my blog, my issues generally tend more toward anxiety and sadness. Seems I turn inward in my distress, rather than outward, for the most part. I've written a lot here about my anxiety, which has worsened about a million fold by infertility, but I'm not frequently truly angry.

When I do get angry, it's usually more of an irritableness about my colleagues complete inability to park within a single parking space (is it really that hard, folks?) - or things of that ilk. Honestly, I've begun to feel that parking skills should be part of every job interview, and our annual review process... with zero tolerance for bad results. So, I do certainly know irritation, which passes pretty quickly for me, but I rarely become actually angry or rage-filled.

Yet rarely is not never... and I don't like that I sometimes do get that way. It's not pretty. It's even more not pretty than my anxiety. 

Yesterday and this morning are two of those sometimes. I became unreasonably angry at the seeming injustice of it all. Not only at the injustice in the fact of the matter:infertility and involuntary childlessness, but at the disparity in support and understanding. 

Almost all of that which I hear people frequently complaining about causes me to think, "Wait, are you kidding me? You're trying to get me to understand? I mean, the world is your support group!! What about me?? Where is my outpouring of support? Doesn't anyone care?" After all, I had to go trolling the interwebs to find support - and thank God for the interwebs and the friends I've found there!! Frankly, I don't know how IFers did it before the interwebs. They must have ended up in asylums.... ahem, or prison. 

Is it a coincidence that somehow this song has been a bit stuck in my head:

"What about meeee - it isn't fair!  I haven't had enough and I want my share - can't you seeeeee - they just take more, they just take more... they just take more than they givvvvve. More than they give."

Yet my fingers write this today as a confession - not a complaint. I don't like that I feel this way. It's no one's fault that my troubles are not the troubles of the majority - we all have our troubles and I'd never wish for anyone to have mine, that is for sure. Still, my desire to be understood isn't right, is it? I should seek only to understand, not to be understood.

While I wish I were a better person, more full of grace, it occurs to me that having anger is probably better for me, actually... Except in the cases of horrible parking, I always realize how unfair my anger towards others is, whereas my anxiety and sadness just keep me focused inward. I recognize prolonged anger and angry actions as sinful, I do not recognize my sometimes wallowing in anxiety that way. My anger repulses me, whereas I melt into my anxiety - not giving in to the fear, but feeling better about myself for my perseverance despite it, rather than turning to prayer. (Please note that I am definitely NOT saying that anxiety is sin, nor even anger... I'm referring to what I personally do with those things.)

In either case, one of the blogs I started following a few months ago - in my effort to try to focus outside of my infertility and involuntary childlessness - posted yesterday with encouragement to be careful which way we lean. I needed to hear this good advice, especially since I was experiencing some of that anger yesterday. It gave me great pause, and speaks to my anxiety as well.

Just this morning, when I first checked my Facebook, I saw something that again took me from 0 to 65 in fits of rage.The details aren't important.

"What about meeee - it isn't fair!  I haven't had enough and I want my share - can't you seeeeee - they just take more, they just take more... they just take more than they givvvvve. More than they give."

I fumed and raged and felt the full weight of my self pity and all of the unfairness that this path is... and I continued to do so for about 5 or 7 minutes or so and felt justified in how outraged I planned to be all day long, but then that still small voice reminded me of the words I read yesterday, to Be Careful Which Way I Lean.

Instead of continuing to fume, I actually prayed. Prayer is good.

"But who can discern their own errors? Forgive my hidden faults. Keep your servant also from willful sins; may they not rule over me. Then I will be blameless,innocent of great transgression.May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." (Psalm 19:12-14)

Culture

Week 20 of Photo 52: Culture 

The theme for week 20 of Photo 52 was culture, for which I conveniently happened to be on Utila. I thought it would be interesting to ask Ar's ma (78 years old) and his uncle (67 years old), who both lived there till their 20s/early 30s, how they would define the culture of Utila - now or then.  Well, I sure got some interesting stories about how Utila once was, and what they think of the changes that are happening. 

The culture has - and continues to -  change emphatically, particularly as more cultures have moved onto the little island. It's hard in a lot of ways. I suppose we don't notice changes as much when they happen slowly, when you're there every day. When you go away for some years and come back, the change seems so drastic - even to me, and I only knew it from Ar's stories. I know it makes Ar and Ma a little sad, but I also know this is the way of life. Wouldn't it be lovely if we could just go back in time?  I'd love to visit the little boy who became the man I love so much, and to see the land he loves so much - the way he once saw it.

Well, I chose the photo above for week 20 because of how it resonated with Ar. Growing up in Utila, this was a very common sight and experience - it's less so, these days - it's a good picture of the culture that shaped him. Besides, no way could I resist a solitary fisherman in a rustic boat along a rustic shore.

These are three little boys, who grew up right there on Utila... playing right there on this Iron Shore. 

One of them never left Utila, one followed love to Sweden as a young man, and one came to the US at 13, studied and worked his behind off and... just so happens to live in my apartment. Indeed, these three little boys turned into three very different men, with three very different life experiences - but what a blessing to be able to meet back up together like this, to still fish and play together. No judgment or comparisons, just life. 

This cute little guy is a swamper iguana, which is endemic to Utila. These were abundant when Ar was growing up on Utila - they even hunted them for food. (Delicious, so I've frequently been told!) The iguana lived in the mangrove swamps, but has experienced habitat loss and over-hunting because of the influx of new people moving onto the island. As a result, they were brought to near extinction and are now a critically endangered species. 

The swamper is seen here in the back yard of our family's property. They now largely reside in these rocky areas after being driven out of the swamps. Every time we go back, Ar and ma are just amazed to see them there... they simply don't belong in these rocks: culture change. 

Yet some things don't change with time. You can tell the native islanders by their umbrellas. While I donned a nerdy looking hat and sunscreen, the native islander women stay out of the sun if they can, and use umbrellas when they can't. I think that it's kinda cool - even though they couldn't get me to use one. (Hanging my head in shame. But... I did want to get a little color, at least!) 

Porch-time greetings and frequent impromptu visits haven't changed either. While I, upper midwest girl that I am, am uncomfortable with unscheduled drop-ins, and have a higher value on privacy, I do hope this part of culture never changes on Utila.  

Delicious food can still be found, though changing cultures has definitely impacted the food selections. Don't you just love Ar's hands and poised fork in the shadows in the background??  Poor guy always just wants to eat, but waits patiently while I shoot photos. (This one was Ar's; I got the fish fillet... I'm a wimp, I know.) 

Stories and laughter under the almond tree is something that, thankfully, is not likely to change!

Nor the abundant coconuts.

I sure hope the sea life doesn't change any more than it already has!

Something that always surprise me out there is the more direct approach to life... and death... and everything in between. Things don't seem left unsaid there, for better or worse... people tend to say what they think and don't seem to consider various topics taboo or impolite. It is somewhat refreshing to this generally polite and appropriate (people pleasing?) midwest girl, but sometimes could also feel somewhat harsh to my ears - and, um, yeah - emotionally devastating, at times. 

Another noticeable part of the culture is the integration of the haves and the have-nots: those who made their way and those who have spent a lifetime wandering. 

And then there are those who, like a my Ar, never stop dreaming...

...never stop seeking...

...who learned early on from his ma's example to start by just taking a step, and then another: you've just got to keep going. 

Far side of the sea

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? 

If I go up to the heavens, you are there; 

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

                                    If I rise on the wings of the dawn...

if I settle on the far side of the sea...

even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.

If I say,“Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you."  

Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting."  (From Psalm 139)

May flowers

Ar and I spent the first two weeks of May in Utila, Honduras. We got home late last night. At least I think we did. I'm not totally convinced it wasn't a dream. It's just such a different world. On the other hand, I have the bug bites and sun burn to indicate I was actually there.

It was a good trip. It's different being there with native Utilians - Ar, his ma, and their family - than it would be to be there as a tourist. It allows me to see it with fresh eyes, while still seeing it more as it really is - not just the touristy parts.

I always think of it a bit as paradise meets the wild, wild west.

Week 19 of Photo 52: May flowers

It's interesting and good to see Ar there, in his native land. On the soil where he was born and raised. It always reveals more things about him to me. He is truly wonderful!!

There is a baby there - the one I bought the shoes for, which I wrote about a few weeks ago - who just loved me to pieces. The feeling was quite mutual. Her mama is very sweet and lovely - and close to the family, well, she is family. Anyhow, so they came over a few times a day and baby only wanted to come to me. Mama and auntie couldn't get over how she took to me. She'd scramble out of mama's arms to come to me. She wailed when I left. One day she was wailing so hard that I was leaving, that we ended up just taking her with us on a golf cart around the island. She is precious and her mama is wonderful.

It was interesting, as I've avoided babies for a long time. I expect to resume avoidance, in all honesty, but this little girl could not be avoided. It seemed we were meant to be together, at least for those two weeks.  It felt good. I miss her.

Mother's day was a bit hard. It's kind of an even bigger deal out there. We cooked ma a meal for mother's day. Cooking was different there and it definitely ended up being a labor of love, but I'm glad we did it.

On mother's day, there were some very obnoxious  things said to me (meant humorously), with regard to mother's day and my having not yet provided them with another little cousin... It was hard and unrelenting. Eventually, I just had to say that whether or not one has kids is not always a choice. The person really pushing me on it has five kids (she's the grandmother of the little baby girl I got to love on). I truly think I handled it all well. Ar, without prompting, told me so, as well.

It's just that now that people were a little more familiar with me, having met me before, more and more of them asked if we have kids, or when we'll have kids.

Ar likes to say, "not yet" and hopes it will blow over. But it's me they're always looking at when they ask. I handled it well, though I did get teary-eyed on one porch when the conversation didn't move off this subject quickly enough.

I was told to not worry, because I'm still young. Ha! They all think I'm younger than I am, but I tried to just let it all pass. I tried to communicate, without too much moroseness, that it hasn't been our choice to not have kids - that I wish we would. It's a pretty hard line to walk, this being authentic without being morose, about something I'm pretty morose about.

In one conversation with some new friends we made out there, when they realized I am just short of 42, they were actually shocked and then said, "Oh, so you just didn't want kids - we wondered why you didn't have any."  Really? That's a pretty hasty conclusion, if I ever heard one. Well, I hesitated and Ar was speechless. I was looking to Ar for help, when the man said, "Or do you want them? It's just that it's pretty late now, so I figure you don't."  Really?  They have seven.  People who easily have just don't get the not-a-choice part of it. I got pretty teary-eyed in this conversation too, because they kept pushing the conversation... telling me that there are various other ways to have kids, don't ya know? I think I did okay in it though, especially considering that AF had shown up, which is always extra difficult.

So, yeah - so much for the guy we ran into at the airport on the way there, who Ar and ma knew from the bigger island, who also asked about our reproductive abilities - and then asked if he could touch me, as he assured me that now I'd become pregnant - and that the water on the island is very fertile. Sigh. There is no vacation from infertility.

Regardless, it was a good trip: I love the sea and being able to breathe properly and not being stuffed up... sleeping better, freshness, sun... and having to walk to get places... and ohhhh - the beautiful beauty!! Most of all, I love being with Ar in this place that brought him to his teenage years. It's so different than he knew, but it's still special and beautiful. We'll forever be connected to it. I just wish I could travel back in time and see him there then. I would like that, very much. It was a good trip - and I'm so thankful for that and for the safe travels and all the friends and family we got to spend time with. A true blessing!!

Yet, be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.

Paparazzi

In the midst of a lot of ick this week, my darling Ar bought me a new camera to take on our trip! We looked at them a few months ago, but I insisted no because our camera is fine as is. It's maybe six years or so old now, but still works great. However, he knew I really wanted the wider and longer capabilities of this camera. So anyhow, he surprised me by buying it for me!  Yay!!!

And by buying it for me, I mean he told me that he put money in my account and insisted I go get the one I wanted. He couldn't remember which one it was or what else I'd need... Eh, he probably would have done it that way even if he could remember - like the time he told me to order myself a Donald Driver bobble head for Christmas!  He is wonderful - and he cracks me up.

Anyhow, while I picked the camera up, he went to take a jog at the park. The plan was to meet back up at home, but since I knew exactly the camera I would get, it didn't take long so I went to the park instead. It didn't take long to get the camera up and going since it's an upgrade to what I have now - similar, but more.   Then I positioned myself behind a tree to stalk Ar - and started snapping the minute I saw him... It was fun how fast I could snap photos of him continuously. I like flipping through these on my computer super fast - it looks like he's actually moving. Anyhow, I just think these are fun and cute! Like Ar!

Unsuspectingly cooling down from his jog

Unsuspecting...

Noticing something strange - I think he'd spotted my car first

Definitely knows something is going on. He told me later that he'd seen me out of corner
of his eye by now, but thought I was photographing people at the picnic table

Amused to see me

I'm starting to lose control of my zoom here.

Completely out of control now