Affairs are nothing new in politics, but I can’t stand the absolute blatant lie this man is telling the American public. I gave him the benefit of the doubt on the sexual harassment claims. But this…I mean really. Who is going to buy what this man is selling?

Ladies, how would you feel if your spouse was friends with a female for thirteen years and you never heard of her name? Add on to that, your spouse is supporting this woman financially! Come on.

I am not defending the mistress either, by any means. She is cashing in on our fifteen minutes of fame because the financial gravy train ended recently.

What I am curious about is why he would run for President? You have this incredibly large skeleton in your closet and you don’t think it is going to come out? Is it arrogance or desire for power that makes men like Herman Cain think they are invincible.

Stop lying, Herman. I think everyone would at least respect him a little more if he owned up to what he did and stopped this terrible acting job of stating they were just friends.

I hate lying! (As you can probably tell by my rant here!) Herman, be a man and apologize to your wife and family.

During this period of time, babies were dragged from horses, in order to kill them in a prolonged way.  Children were tortured.  Women were gang raped, slowly burned alive, and kept as slaves.  The brutality is common and protracted during the struggle for the ownership of Texas.

I always read non-fiction.  I love to read about history.  However, a disturbing theme is emerging from my reading of everything from African slavery in America to Nazi Germany, are people of all nationalities and cultures – barbaric deep down inside?

Throughout history, there are so many deaths, so many atrocities committed in the name of war, hate, power or greed.  I would like to see them as isolated incidents, but are they?

Are we all are capable of inhuman acts in certain circumstances?  How can we distinguish ourselves from all of the people throughout the history of the world that are capable of torture and murder?  Does it take an event, a tragedy, or a war to turn us into animals built of hate and revenge?

I cannot picture myself harming others or torturing anyone.  I would rather die than harm an infant.  But I cannot help but wonder if the Nazis, before the death camps, saw themselves the same way.

What changes?  What switch in our conscious changes to nonhuman?  I do not know the answer, but I cannot deny the very real potential of the human race at anytime, to turn to madness.  History does repeat itself and have we really learned from the past?

All of my life, I have envied those that seem at peace with their faith in God.  Those that believe unconditionally in their religion and their beliefs.  I have always struggled with mine.  I want to believe in heaven.  I want to believe there is a all-knowing and loving entity greater than humanity.  I want to believe prayers are heard.  As much as I have tried, I have never felt that “faith”.  I have never felt that connection.

I was raised Catholic.  I attended religious teaching every Saturday and church every Sunday.  I remember sitting in my religion class, as young as second grade, and just questioning everything.  Being a very curious child and asking why God killed people when one of his commandments is Thou Shall Not Kill did not go over very well with the religious instructors.  I was not asking this to be a smart alack.  I really didn’t understand.  I guess, I still don’t.

I have a lot of questions about the Bible, faith, and God.  I have searched high and low for the answers.  I have read the Bible, talked to priests, took World Religion classes in college, and talked to friends about their faith.  I want to make sense of it.  I want to have that comfort and peace that I see in others at one with their faith.

I have a close friend who finds such comfort in her faith.  I mean, true peace that all is in God’s hands. When she has problems or troubling times, her faith helps to guide her through the difficulties.  I asked her how she came to this place with her faith.  She told  me simply that I have to open up my heart to God and he will come.  The problem is, I don’t know how.

I can’t help but think that something is wrong with me.  Why can’t I feel what others seem to naturally feel about God and faith?  I want to believe, really believe. But how?

I think it is a profound statement, and true.  Rejection is a very hurtful.  So hurtful in fact that scientists believe that not only does it cause mental anguish, but actual physical pain.*

The feeling of rejection comes in many forms: feeling unwanted, judged, excluded, and unloved.  When I think of conflicts, she is right, when I have felt rejected in some way, I am prone to react by defending myself, arguing vehemently to prove the other person wrong, or just crying,

So how do I use this nugget of information from the counselor?  I try to be aware in every situation in my personal life, that although I may be hurt or angry at someone close to me, I think about the rejection trigger in myself.  If I realize, I am feeling unwanted or unappreciated I now express that to the person instead of lashing out back and making the situation worse.

I also try to think of the other person’s perspective and try to get to the root of what they are really trying to communicate and their trigger point for feeling rejected.  I am more empathetic, if I don’t take it personally, and look deeper at conflict situations.

I am perfect at this?  Hell no.  The last blog, I wrote about an argument with my son.  I let my emotions of being rejected take over and I regret that evening and everything that was said between us.

Yet, I still believe in the power of this information and it has helped me to lead a better life.

What about you?  Have you learned something from being rejected?

Source: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/15/fashion/is-rejection-painful-actually-it-is-studied.html

He craves independence.  He wants to be his own man and make his own decisions.  He will 18 years-old in December.  He is a senior in high school and he has never had a job or any real responsibility.

He is also brilliant, creative, and a great conversationalist.  He is my son and I love him more than anything in the world.

I saw a quote today written by Eckhart Tolle that states, “Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness.”

I thought about what this means in relation to the difficulties my son and I face right now.  How a once very close relationship, has turned in to a power struggle between the giver (me) and the taker (him).

I realized that I am an enabler.  I am so desperate for him to see his full potential then I try every way I can to give to him any advantage I can, hoping that he will fulfill his promises to me about getting a job, taking on more responsibility, and engaging with the family.

I also realized that there is a part of me (deep down) that fears if I don’t give him what he wants then I will lose him forever.  More than I have already lost him.

I think my life lesson is letting go.  I have trouble doing that, not only with my son, but with others in my life that I love.  I can’t let someone drown, even if I go down with them.  I have to, absolutely have to, save them.

My son will be a man soon.  I know someday he will figure out what he needs to do, but I can’t hold on and make everything alright for him.  I need to let him make his own mistakes and learn from them to achieve his own journey.

Last night after a particularly bad argument between us about him wanting to continue to use my car whenever he wants and him not looking for a job, I felt my hand slip away from him.

It hurts to let go.

It was amazing to me the reaction these teens generated.  People cursed at them.  Told them to go home.  Told them they were ugly and scary.  I was shocked at how visceral people reacted to them.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I know, part of the reason they were dressed so differently, was that they are trying to creating some type of reaction.  I could see they did not want to fit in to “society’s norms” by any stretch of the imagination.  However, as they talked amongst themselves at the table, I could tell they were even taken aback at the vehemence people showed towards them.

I would have loved to interviewed them and the people who cursed at them, but being with my 12 year-old it wasn’t the time or place.  So I have to rely on my observation of the situation.

Yes, they were dressed very differently, but we did it impact others so much? That is where I was confused.  Did it really effect others to that degree? They were just sitting there eating dinner.

I am personally not into Goth look, but differences makes the world interesting. Maybe because I grew up in NY, I have been exposed to all types of people since I was a child.  It does not faze me.

Living now in Colorado Springs, in a mall at 6:00 p.m. on a Saturday night, I thought someone was going to lose their temper and actually do something to these teenagers.

The pressure grew and they got up and left the mall.  While, people continued to shout and make comments.  Really?  I think the reaction was so extreme and uncalled for – they are just teenagers.  Why are we so afraid of people who are different?

Never again, will I say nothing.  I will not be afraid to face what I need to face.  I will not be afraid to speak though it may be hard, or I may be judged, or I am may open up that real emotion or topic that I don’t want to deal with.

I have learned this the hard way.

I decided one day to ask.

I saw Rick (pictured) sitting on a curb near a grocery store.  What caught my eye is that he waved at every car that went by him.  He had no sign asking for money.  He was just smiling and waving.

I was nervous approaching him, but I told him about the blog and how I am looking to understand more about his life. He graciously told me his story.

He is fifty-six years old.  His career was a truck driver.  He started having seizures and had to quit his job and go on Social Security Disability.  He had been diagnosed with epilepsy.  I noticed the bottle of medication in his pocket.  He explained the medicine is for his seizures and it only costs $2.00 due to being on Medicare.

He had an apartment, but he could not afford it, so he took in two homeless men as roommates.  The landlord found this out and kicked him out of the apartment.  He has been homeless for a few days now.

He has no living family.  His mom passed away several years ago and he told me he misses her every day.

I asked Rick why he was waving to everyone.  He told me he loves people.  He enjoys talking to people and in general, believes people are good.  I asked him about the people who judge him or mistreat him.  He told me that he doesn’t let the few bad people affect his thoughts or beliefs.

I asked Rick what he most wanted.  He told me in the long-term, he wants to find a place to live. He said there are rescue missions, but it is hard to find placement. Right now he is sleeping wherever he can find a quiet, safe place.  For the short-term, Rick told me he wished he had a razor, so that he can shave his beard.

Steve was sitting under a tree at the entrance of a Wal-Mart parking lot.  He looked to be in his late forties with black hair and a graying beard.  He held a sign that said, “Disabled and Homeless.”  He had a back pack and a bottle of water.  He wore a black eye patch on his left eye.  Steve was more reluctant to talk to me.  Once he understood that I wasn’t judging him, but seeking to understand him, he opened up and we talked for almost an hour.

Steve said his whole life changed when he got into a car accident in 1988.  He was born and lived in La Junta, Colorado until a couple of years ago.  The day of the accident he was driving ninety miles an hour on a rural road.  He lost control of the car and went into a ditch.  He was thrown forty feet from his vehicle.  It was that accident that caused him to lose his eye.  He also badly injured his knees.

Steve still worked after the accident.  He mostly worked in for telemarketing companies.  He lost his job and moved to Colorado Springs for work just prior to the recession.  He did get a job with a telemarketing company.  He used to take the bus there and back daily.

Steve said when the recession hit and there were budget cutbacks, the city reduced their bus routes.  He could no longer get to work.  He lost his job and his apartment.

He has been homeless for several years.  He sleeps in a spot that he did not want to disclose near a river.  He told me that homeless people do not want their spots taken, so they are secretive about where they are located.

Steve is used to this way of life.  He does not want to work in a menial job and he isn’t afraid of being homeless.  He said he has no fear of sleeping outside or finding something to eat daily.   He stated matter of fact that he is used to it.

Steve said he knows some people don’t agree with his choice, but that it doesn’t bother him.  This is how he lives and people can help him or not – it is their decision.  He has accepted his fate and his choice, and having “The American Dream” does not matter to him.

Both were articulate and friendly.  Both wanted their stories told.  Homelessness is a complicated issue with no simple answer, and the people who are homeless all have a different story to tell.  My impression of Rick is that he was very alone in the world.  He seemed to be alone for a long, long time.  I don’t think he pictured his life this way, but he accepts this is what his life is, at least right now.

My impression of Steve, although his was disabled, was he dropped out of society.  The economy may have forced the initial change, but he was comfortable in his own skin and his choices.  He owned his homelessness and really did not seem that he wanted to change it.

I still pass by people every day like Rick and Steve.  I still struggle if I should give money or some other type of help.  (Most of the time, I do.)  I don’t know the back story of every person begging on the street, but I did learn it is worth taking the time to ask some of them.  I try now to look beyond the sign, and into the eyes of the person.  I make a point to acknowledge them as people, say hi and smile, not look away and pretend they don’t exist.

Sister Wives is a show about four wives (adult woman) in a long-term marriage with one husband.  This blog is not to debate the moral issue of this or religion, in general.  What fascinates me about this show is how much I like the Browns, and how happy they seem to be as a family.

I used to think polygamy was about the man having four women or more to sleep with whenever he wanted.  In watching this show, it is all about the women.  Poor Cody Brown,  if he acts like an ass, he has four wives to tell him so!   And tell him, they will. I don’t think most men would want that – less it be for a religious calling.  I know my husband sitting next to me watching thought Cody Brown was crazy.

These women are friends, they all work together for the best for the family.  They have different strengths that contribute to the overall well-being of them all.  As a career person, wife, and mom of two kids, I can see understand the psychology of having that support system to make it all work.

Cody Brown is ancillary.  Although he is loved by all the women, he is not the center of this world, the women are the hub, and Cody is lucky enough to be part of it.

Now, while I love the theory of a sister-wife, (and man, I could use one!), I cannot share my husband or my love for him. Just cannot get past that hurdle. : )

So I will continue to watch the Browns’, and enjoy the knowledge I have gained by observing their world.