My Lone Star State ... How I Love Thee ... Even if You Hate Me

My theme song (one of the few songs in my Christian upbringing that still applies to my Unitarian beliefs):  Goodness of God

I am a liberal in a conservative, precious town.  I LOVE living here.  The stars are so beautiful I want to cry daily just looking at them.  The sunsets and sunrises...be still my heart.  My parents and extended family being so close makes my heart leap for joy.  (My Aunt Joy, incidentally, is a large part of the leaping for joy.)  I LOVE living here.

And also, I feel a bit like I have three heads.

So far I have been told that New Orleans is a terrible city because it is Democratic so of course I wanted to move to Mills County because it's superior in its Republican ways, but my ideas aren't welcome so just behave and be quiet.  I've been told that my political association is stupid, that others want to move out of this precious town because "people are coming in and changing it," and in response to my post about Beto, "that explains a lot."

Ouch.

Well, at first I felt hurt.  Then I was super pissed.  Then I settled on wanting to be love and acceptance regardless of what my soul encounters.  Even if that means it encounters disparaging remarks.

I have been a Republican most of my life.  I always said that I was fiscally conservative and socially liberal (I have never understood telling another person how to live their life).  It took a while for the fiscal part to penetrate my soul.  In fact, it was only a few months before I moved to Texas that my views of this started to change.  And it all began with me in Art Therapy with an incredible amount of self-loathing, shame and confusion (shout out to my religious upbringing), and a beautiful therapist whose name alone gives me comfort.

I have been in and out of therapy since I was first married at 28.  I was in a difficult marriage with a lot of fighting, drinking and spending.  Neither one of us knew or LOVED ourselves well enough to make any kind of significant relationship work.   (Just a side note, if you are in a toxic relationship I hope you find a therapist that recognizes this...leaving cute love notes for your toxic partner is not going to cut it, Teresa.  You have been lied to. That shit is for couples who fight over who does the dishes not being on the verge of dialing 911 because you're scared to death.). I went to Christian therapists mostly.  And we all know that Christians like to preach self-sacrifice, not self-love.  Especially if you are a woman.  Codependency is a trait Christian women are expected to have....everyone else comes first.  The therapists were lovely people acting out their training.  Unfortunately, it didn't spur me to love myself enough to be free of toxicity.  So I found myself in another toxic marriage for 8 years followed by a significant live-in toxic relationship with my two boys.  Big, fat sigh.

My switch to full on Democrat only came when I fully, truly loved myself.  All the shadowy parts and weaknesses.  Love for myself arrived when I said a blanket I FORGIVE YOU for all the things I thought I should be ashamed of.  (Obviously I'm not saying that only Democrats love themselves.  This was MY journey, Jesus.). When I was fully able to hold space for all the times and ways in which I acted out of self-protection and fear and pride could I see the forest for the trees.  I was just a girl living in a broken world with two little boys relying on me.  And the Conservative ideal of independence just wasn't cutting it anymore.

When I realized all the hate I was piling on my shoulders just to carry the burden of having this "all man for himself" attitude, I had no choice but to shed it.  I didn't like what I was becoming.  I didn't like my greed and obsession with money and independence and success when I cried myself to sleep alone at night.  I didn't like having to work my ass off to maintain some sort of "comfortable" life when all I wanted to do was be with my kids.  I didn't like the constant barrage of shame that came from never having enough or never being enough.  I didn't like the constant judgement I had for others.  I didn't like the constant disappointment and pessimism.  It killed my relationships and isolated me from people.  I was becoming a bitter old woman with contempt for myself.

I am incredibly thankful that I found love for myself before I moved to this "land of the free and home of the brave" in the Lone Star State of Texas where we are ruggedly independent and full of pride for being so.  It's in our very heritage, this need to "take care of our own."  As long as that means they are like us. We have a flag to prove it.  Without love for myself, I would cry daily while I wait tables.

I was told that I needed to be careful who I spoke to about my political beliefs.  Telling me what to do never goes over well.  So clearly, that worked.  I am actively living in what my New Orleans friends are terrified of in Texas...I am being persecuted for my faith (or lack thereof) and my political beliefs because I am different.  I represent all the failures a person can have.  I represent the one who fell through the Republican net because there was no one to catch me.  Apparently I'm not independent enough.

My little town doesn't know what to do with me.  I catch myself saying that I'm from New Orleans, but that's not true.  I lived in New Orleans for 26 years.  I'm from Texas.  I have a right, just like all the people who never left their home town here, to live here in peace with support and love and acceptance.  It's my right simply because I'm a person.  My political beliefs don't change that fact.  I'm a human.  I bleed and cry and pee and laugh and get my heart broken just like Republicans.  Shocker.  

I guess being a Beto supporter does explain a lot.  It explains that I have lived hard and cried hard.  It means I have been broke and destitute and alone.  It means that I have found strength in love for people over money.  It means that I am unafraid of my possessions being taken away. It means money doesn't matter to me.  It explains the bankruptcy of my previous beliefs.

We are all just trying to survive as best we know how with a looming expiration date.  Republicans and Democrats alike.

I am.  That is reason enough for kindness.  

Sal Pal & Her Beanie

It's my sister-in-law's birthday today.  AKA Sal Pal/Sally.  She wears beanies and made up a song about it.  If you know her, please ask her to sing it.

She is just like her name.  Delightful.

I remember when my brother brought her home.  I was in my 20s. I immediately liked her.  And also, she induced trauma responses in me hard in my soul.  Of course I didn't have the language for it at the time.  So I translated it to judgment.  I viewed her with a critical (and envious/insecure) eye because I wanted to be like her.  She is beautiful.  Talented.  Skinny.  Energetic.  Smart.  Full of delight and mischief.  She's hip and stylish.  She's tender hearted and honest.  She radiates beauty.  Who wouldn't want to be her??  She reminded me of the girls I went to Baylor with that brought all my demons out.  Girls like Sally terrified me.  They seemed so lovely and NORMAL.

Assumptions are usually incorrect.  We misfire continuously.  We are all sending out messages and deciphering messages from people.  All. Day. Long.  Without information.  Or with old information.  We are just responding to what our bodies are telling us without knowing we're doing it and why.  It's exhausting.  

We are giving our bodies the control over our judgements.  People "rub us the wrong way" so we stay away from them and make assumptions without accurate information.  Our bodies respond because of past trauma. Our  brains tell us when to fight or flee or freeze.  Based on a time when that response was appropriate.

But that no longer serves us.  It is tearing us apart.  It is tearing our country and our world apart.

I gave a book to a boy.  He gave it back to me with a sticky on it that said, "5/1 Manifesting Generator."  Because this made no sense to me, I assumed he was asking me to join him in manifesting a generator by May 1.  So I did. I was manifesting that generator for him good by May 1. Until I learned what that actually meant.  It did not mean a thing you buy from Lowe's.

All my life I have been a seeker.  I am constantly peering into the lives of others and trying to find out what makes them tick.   I am fascinated by psychology.  And serial killers.  The mind fascinates me.  I fascinate myself.  I'm endlessly curious.  Like the cat.  Human Design was another rabbit hole for me to fall into with alarming speed.  (More animal analogies to follow. They're my favorite.)  I'm devouring it like I just found my lost puppy.   Puppies are the cutest.  The boy with the sticky was put there by design to introduce me to this concept at just this time.  I have no idea why, I'm just going with it, OK?

The Enneagram, Astrology, Meyers-Briggs, Kolbe....Human Design.  The list of tools to self-discovery is endless.  Written in totally different languages.  All essentially screaming the same thing.

WE ARE ALL DESIGNED DIFFERENTLY.  NOT GOOD OR BAD.  JUST DIFFERENT.

AND YET though we have this knowledge...We expect everyone to behave as we do.  We say we don't harbor these expectations, but it lives in our bodies...this constant repellant to others.  It doesn't decipher between good and bad, it just is because you made it so.  Judgement is the juxtaposition of love.  It is evil.

Anytime we judge another being as not good, we believe we are doing it for our mental health and safety. We are better and they are worse.  We believe that we are separating our souls from them because we don't want to be like them.  But what it does instead is create more isolation in our bodies.  It's not about the being that you are judging as unworthy of your personhood.  It's about what that judgement does to you both by merely existing.  These small increments of judgement chip away at your soul and replace what could be good with bad. They isolate you.

Evil is the epitome of isolation from humanity.  Exactly what a sociopath is.  And I love these guys.  Endlessly fascinating.  And disturbing.  And scary.  Happy Halloween.

The word Good according to google is from the Old English word "to unite, be associated, suit."  We can assume and make an ass out of u and me and say bad means the opposite.

Repelling others with judgement accomplishes the opposite of good.  It disconnects us in our bodies and our brains.  It separates our soul from other humans.  And it isn't exclusive only by who you believe in your head is evil.  It extends to every part of your body.  Every relationship you have is affected by what you believe is merely protection of yourself.  You are operating under old information that doesn't serve you anymore.  This disconnection to others we deem unworthy also disconnects us from those we love. 

We are killing ourselves in self-protection.  We are transforming the makeup of our bodies to be largely made of disconnected or "bad" cells.  I almost missed out on the beauty of Sal-Pal and her beanie because of my judgment and self-protection.

And we wonder why there is so much evil in the world.

Judgmental Cows & Wilson

 "The way to find your own North Star is not to think or feel your way forward but to dissolve the thoughts and feelings that make you miserable.  You don't have to learn your destiny--you already know it; you just have to unlearn the thoughts that blind you to what you know."  Martha Beck

I was thoroughly uncomfortable.  I didn't know if I wanted to run away or stay.  My chest filled with discomfort and heat.  My ears, eyes and sinuses all equally warm.   I felt like I couldn't breathe.  I felt hollow.  I felt like someone was sitting on my chest.  My body's sign to pay attention to what I'm feeling.  So I closed my eyes and felt.  I sat in that discomfort like it was my job.  

Old thoughts started parading through my brain... I am the ugliest girl in the class.  I am not smart enough.  I am not cool enough.  I am too old.  I am broke.  My body is weird and it smells.  I am living with my parents and my two boys (I say with a smirk in my brain).  I have no career.  I need Botox.  I need to buy better shampoo because my hair is old too.  I have too many wrinkles.  I'm done.  I've been beaten.   And I want to give up.  Like just sit inside and watch TV and play solitaire for money on my phone all day.  With a bottle (or three) of wine and pizza.  And ice cream.  Rocky Road Bluebell, please.  (And I am definitely not minimizing the sitting -inside- and -stuffing- your -face- in- solitude times.  Necessary.  And also high five.)

I let myself go down this hole for a bit.  Just to see how far my brain would get.  It ended up somewhere in a hut.  Alone.  On a small island. Like Tom Hanks and Wilson.  

The thing about old thoughts is that they are old.  They are tired.  They don't serve you anymore. They are ready for your whole body to celebrate who you are and the life that you are currently living.  They are waiting in anticipation like a kid about to dive into a swimming pool once the whistle is blown for you to embrace your life.  

How bout we just talk to ourselves like we actually like ourselves.  And ditch the shit that doesn't serve us anymore.  And dive in.

I tried it out.  I went for a walk.  I screamed to get it entirely out of my body while cows stared at me.  Instead of the shit I had on repeat in my head I pretended that I was talking to my people who love me the very most.  

"Rebekah Rose Crosby, daughter of David & Janet Crosby, mother to two beautiful boys, sister to amazing humans, friend to beautiful souls, you are amazing and unique because you are a part of the Universe.  You were made just to be seen by My eyes.  You complete me.  You exist for me.  You are lovable.  You are interesting.  Just because you ARE.  You made decisions based on information in your head at the time.  And also, this very moment has never been lived by another human being.  Ever.  This is it.  This is as good as it gets.  You are experiencing the orgasm of life in real time."

I have been given this amazing gift of time and space and support to heal.  I am in the perfect place for it.  I need like the terrifying kind of healing that needs lots of open spaces to scream all your pain out because it's too much for the world to hold. 

I have hurt myself enough.  It hasn't served me.  It has taken me out of the present moment and into fear for the present, regret for the past, anxiety for the future.  It has served up a lot of other really tasteless dishes.  Like being disconnected from people I love and suffering alone.  

I have found butterflies flying above my head for the past week.  One made its landing on my hair.  (It was incredibly puffy that day, so I don't blame it.  It was a nice, fluffy place to nestle in. Full of dry shampoo because it's my favorite and also coconut oil because...dry shampoo is drying. Listen, Linda, it makes total sense to me.)  I glow.  I am present.  I walk everywhere.  I laugh with my boys.  I roll around in the grass.  I chase my dog.  I drive in the country and pop my tire because I took it off road.  I sing out loud though I've always hated my voice.  I feel more alive than I have in a very, very long time. 

What if the key to finding our own North Star like my friend Martha suggests (aka what we were CREATED to be) is just about reframing our suckiness and seeing our damn selves as we actually are.  Authentically raw.  A tear hanging inside your joy. A necessary part of existence.  Fucking beautiful art.

I'm on the right path to find my authentic self aka North Star.  You know, the butterflies and glow and all.  And I'm not expecting to find it in a job that pays me my value.  Because there is no amount of money that covers that.  I want to fully be the person my people see.  I want to reflect back to myself all the love in the world that it took to make me. The way is scary and rocky and cliffy.  And it means I have to ditch all the constructs in my brain and ideas of who I think I'm supposed to be.  It means I have to open myself up to pain. It comes complete with small panic attacks and frustrated libidos and guttural screams and child's pose sobs.  And judgmental cows.

Banksy said art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.

I can think of nothing more disturbing than walking away from who you used to be and into the unknown.  But here I am.  I'm ready for it. Tom Hanks and Wilson are in my rearview.

https://youtu.be/K99i5GF65to