Beyond Social Media

“Man was born to live with his fellow human beings. Separate him, isolate him, his character will go bad, a thousand ridiculous affects will invade his heart, extravagant thoughts will germinate in his brain, like thorns in an uncultivated land.”
—Suzanne Simon from MEMOIRS OF A NUN (1796)

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We are caught in an illusion of togetherness when we converse online. Days pass quickly as the all-mighty computer consumes are actions. It feels like we are not alone. Our conversations feel like true substitutes for real relationships. However, one thing is amiss: physicality. Humans are social creatures. Like all mammals, we need to be with one another to thrive. The isolation of the computer confuses the mind by fueling our time with compulsiveness and boredom.

How many times a day to we check our phones? Waiting, hoping for something to increase endorphins. However, the computer never really satisfies. It gives the gift of insatiability where there is never enough and the user is always wanting more. And in that period of wanting…life passes by.

Most mammals run in packs to assure safety and the ability to procreate the next generations. The togetherness is the reason for living: without it, the mammal would surely die. Human beings are not the elite. They are mammals too. Mammals who have forgotten their basic needs to function and thrive.

Every living organism on this earth is just trying to survive. That is how the world exists. Humans surpassed this mode and what was left became ingenuity, creativity, and insanity. The basis for neurosis dwells in the separation to which we agree to in our online relationships, in our comments as well as passing around propaganda as the truth. It is a possibility that we are destroying our species because we stepped out of the line of what was natural: staying with the pack, caring for one another and fighting for the existence of the whole rather than the individual.

As the years pass in the is the digital age, people’s hearts become crueler behind the computer. Unnecessary words are exchanged to sustain the level of serotonin that the computer offers. It is dangerous to depend on an external object to feed your soul. The danger lies in not really pondering what is within without comparing oneself to what is viewed on social media.

Creating social media was supposed to be a good idea. But it is has taken over the daily lives of humans. If we stop questioning the real world we are left in an imaginary maze of toxic overload, spread by each other, alone.

Take a minute to smell the air, watch the trees turn red and yellow and the temperatures drop. For a moment, look at who you live with as if they are more important than the fix you receive in the digital world. Just maybe, you may see life as it happens. We say life is short but we shorten every minute we spend interacting on social media rather than with each other in person. Humans were born to be together. I hope we do not lose sight of that through mundane distractions and arguing useless battles. All we have is today. Let us start now.

 

Africa

eagles

 

Africa is not a place for the weak. It is dangerous and unruly and poverty- stricken. The people make an average of $1.50 a day. It is a place where instinct defies logic. It must. It is survival.  A tall white blonde woman from California has no business trying to fit into this way of life. But I was going to try to do just that.

I should have trusted my gut feeling immediately. The State Department, with all its rules, and protocol, was especially adept at making its diplomats feel a sense of loyalty toward its cause: by removing the individual from its environment and into a foreign place to serve as a liaison for information.

We looked rich compared to the native people. We were rich compared to native people. How was it that we lived in a compound larger than a village? The precedent that was set drooled of power. But, to me, it felt like it placed us in harm’s way. When I asked about the danger, the others scoffed. We were safe, they said. We were American.

However, I became apprehensive as I stepped into my new home. No one told me that there would be a panic room in my bedroom. I did not realize we would have a guard, glass shears pointing up from a barb-wired electric fence above our compound wall or three locks on the door. I felt I could trust no one; not the doctor at the embassy, not the other diplomatic wives and especially not the villagers working in my home. Trapped and powerless, I grew angry quickly. As always, anger turned into depression as depression usually does.

Diplomacy knows nothing about holding grudges. Yet, I was angry with my country for placing my family in a volatile environment. I felt a million miles away from those I loved and the truthfully, I was just that: a million miles away both physically and mentally.

It would have gone better if the neighborhood pharmacy did not sell valium over the counter. I honestly thought that I needed them to cope. After the shell shock of living abroad subsided, I became apprehensive that my husband would be traveling the majority of the time and that I would have to take random broken-down taxis to go everywhere with my two-year-old in tow. This was not going to work for me. But I did not know how to get out.

The most exciting upcoming event happened to be that my husband was turning fifty. However, he was scheduled to be in Nigeria. I insisted that we come because I did not want him to be alone on his birthday. While still living in the honeymoon phase of diplomacy, I was still a wee-bit trusting of the State Department to protect me.

When we landed in Nigeria, I learned quickly that the rule of thumb was to “duck and cover” inside the bullet proof Marine vehicle because Nigerians shoot white people. And we were rushed into the American hotel and being told clearly not to leave. I questioned why I came. But I was there and that was that.

After a nice meal for my husband’s birthday and several nights of good sleep we traveled with another doctor to Lagos. My family and I were to return to Accra. I did not feel relieved. I felt homesick. The Valium stopped working immediately and I was left to fend with myself against my anxiety. When I do not feel safe, my thinking changes. Everyone around me acted as if there was not a worry in the world. But I could sense trouble. Inwardly, I panicked and then it happened.

Boko Haram tried to blow up the UN in Nigeria. Eighteen people were dead. My husband was assigned to the situation as a crisis manager. We were escorted to the safety of the other doctor’s home while they both evaluated the destruction and if the other diplomatic families could go home.

My son and I were placed safely in a diplomat’s home where all the doors were barred shut and two large dogs could protect us. I slept mostly. Corey played with two boys that lived in the home. Finally, Steve arrived and we were going to be allowed to leave that night.

When I returned to Accra, I could not get the terrorist attack to leave my mind. I kept feeling the government did not have our backs. They would let us die. I did not care what anyone told me. I needed to get out of Africa and I needed to take my son with me.

My panic turned into a full-blown attack of anxiety that left me paralyzed. I continued to take the Valium but my anxiety did not lessen. When faced with the truth, the brain will go into fight or flight. I could no longer function. There was so much at stake. We had moved everything we owned to Africa. We had given up our cars and our friends and our life to serve this nation. But would this nation serve us? I knew it would not.

I convinced the State Department to send me home. By doing so, I had relinquished my medical clearance which would cause my husband to resign. I did not care. My safety and the safety of my child was all I could think about. I could tell that other diplomats felt I was weak as if a Scarlett “A” of sorts were tattooed on my soul. It hurt. But I could not stay. I lost control of my sanity and I needed to bear down into a cocoon of protection and security.

A year later Benghazi happened. And now more and more attacks occurred. My hunch was correct. The “War on Terror” was not over and they could not hide it forever. But in my opinion, they certainly tried.

In the end, I knew my gut feeling had been right all along. I was not safe in my travels abroad. But this mattered not, now. I was home. I was safe and I would always trust my sense of knowing where I was safe and where I was not, for the rest of my life. It was a valuable lesson to learn. My dignity was sacrificed to ensure my sense of well-being. My life was saved in return. I believe it was a fair trade. However, my world view darkened through that experience and it is only through my appreciation of the beautiful human spirit that I am persuaded to find pleasure on this earth.

Some may believe I was weak, but my character rescued me. Sometimes instinct is not pretty but such is life. And I am here to tell the tale so others may awaken their sense of self and know the world is not what it seems.

Instability

chelsea-cat

I have heard people will decide to make changes when they are finally sick of being in pain.  Long-term  suffering can come in any form. Strife within a relationship, jobs, or  health issues throughout  time will cause a person to walk close to the edge without even knowing it. Throughout those days, I secretly promise myself that I will be happy, once again, when my problems go away.

There are also times of rejoice, in the middle of suffering, through an ordeal, that creates a sort of denial that the problem ceases to exist. Alcohol can give you that for 4 or 5 hours. Sex: a good 25 minutes. Dating a man who doesn’t love you can be a great escape from the problems that lay low in your head for many years.  But for me, just getting involved with someone else’s problems allows me to vicariously believe that I am solving my own.

No one would say I am a quitter either. I will do everything I can to not deal with a problem that is too painful to comprehend. The year of 2016 was a problem of money for me.

Due to being totally f*cked over by a private contract company working with the Department of Defense, my family and I went from having money to not having money in less than three months. We did have savings. We did have investments. We did have credit. We were not stupid or reckless or living outside of our means. We just got screwed on a job deal and no money was coming in to pay the bills.

Without a job, home, or stuff, we carried on. My familiarity with being broke played into a false sense of confidence that I would be really good at finding creative ways to stay afloat. But we were just not ready for what smacked us over the head: a symphony of bats playing the most hardcore drums, pounding, slamming and drowning all other thoughts out of my head. We were in trouble.

I have many traits suited for survival but not enough traits to actually thrive. I am friendly, charismatic, intelligent and persuasive. I am well-liked among my peers and grocery clerks and doctor offices or anywhere I do business. But there is one trait within me that weighed so heavily into my life that it crept into all my relationships and  lessened any chance of me being consistent. That flaw is called instability.

In general, people have a sixth sense about those of us who are not stable. It makes them uneasy. It creates a shadow of mistrust among the closest of allies. People want to give you the benefit of the doubt but an unstable person brings much more stress to a situation than not.

Plus, I never knew I was not stable because I never knew how to be stable. My solution was to freak out, stop eating all together, give up daily bathing, call everyone in my support system and tell them everything that I feared pertaining to the crisis at hand. Eventually, I would muster some strength to eat again and slowly I resurrect back into an able-bodied person willing to look problems head on.

Yet on that day in May, when I had a writing assignment due, my child became sick. I felt a great amount of pressure to do it all despite my frailty in that moment. My blood sugar was low and my blood pressure was high. And in the middle of Hobby Lobby, I began to have a panic attack.

First, my lawyer called to say that Mercedes Benz had backed out of the deal to get caught up in payments and wanted their money now. I was already in the hole several grand for the month and the month was nearing a close. I simply told him we would deal with it or we would give up the car.

I was beginning to become accustomed to giving back my stuff at that moment. Earlier that year, I pawned my beautiful chocolate and diamond wedding ring to pay the rent as well as my diamond earrings and a semi-chipped Fire Opal ring that I added in as token. If we were going to lose our cars than so be it.

Then the second call came in. It was my husband explaining we needed to buy a large business related item that day or there would be trouble. My internal hole began to expand. And if I could have, I would have jumped in, let them cover me with dirt, and then all the hell would be over.

But my son was there, as was the case, and he began his normal series of demands as we become closer to checkout. I told him no. He asked why. I said because and the conversation remained in this circular argument throughout check out.

Without being able to stop, I began to cry frantically in the car on the way home. I knew I was upsetting my son. I just could not stop. And in my mind I thought “I cannot do this another day. Not one more single fucking day. This is too unstable for me. I can’t get my writing done. I can’t care for my son. I can’t even make myself food because I am such a wreck.”

So I explained to my son exactly what I did not want to tell him. The solution. We were going to have to leave our perfect little mountain retreat in Montana to seek new opportunities. And by doing so, pain would ensue.

Why would I avoid the solution? Because it required literally moving mountains. And I was…I was tired. But this would be the last day. I was tired of the instability more than I was tired of the pain.

The key to being stable is not anywhere near as hard as I thought it would be. It is simple. Be stable. Just do it. No matter what. No matter what stay stable. Life keeps going and so would I. I would fake it until I owned it. But I was going to be stable. Not for my son or my family, but because I needed to be stable to thrive.

Such clarity opened my eyes significantly to other areas of my life. I worried a lot. I looked too deep into every situation and found a reason to be afraid. I thought people did not like me or that my opinion meant very little. In actuality, people were always saying how much they liked me and asking me for advice in their own lives. The disconnect between my inside and my outside freed the hot mess inside of me for many years. But reconnecting would beckon me to strive to align with my highest self and empower me in ways I knew existed somewhere within myself.

The missing piece for my life was that I needed to be stable no matter what happened. I could not speak rudely to people just because I was in a panic. I could not justify erratic behavior because I was afraid any longer. I had to get it together.

Some of the simplest solutions for our lives biggest problems are not living in some divine matrix. The truth  is the most profound answers can be found straight in front of our nose. It is up for us to open our eyes to see them.

 

Mastication

I have never been a big eater. But after my surgeries created an inability to move around, the pounds packed on. I could not understand it. I did not eat poorly. I did not eat in excess. But, my trim body counted on me always moving. When that was taken away…I did not know what to do.

Where did I go wrong?

I am a fast-eater who does not chew my food properly. Or in scientific terms, I do not masticate long enough. Masticate means to chew.One must chew food slowly in order to not gain weight. Plus fast eating is linked with obesity. But most people do not know why. The science behind it isn’t simple. At least not for me. But it’s all about the brain and a little receptor called ghrelin.

When ghrelin is activated, hunger pangs follow. For some people, hunger pangs can be very painful. The stomach rubs against itself, triggering a pain response that can only be satisfied with food. The trick is to eat the food that actually takes time to break down without an accompaniment of water or other beverages.

Why? The breaking down of food requires energy and or a metabolic response that assures our brain that we are getting enough. The longer the it takes for the breakdown to occur the more likely a person is to not overeat. Furthermore, chewing also takes energy and activates synapses in the brain signal being full.

In the beginning of the 20th century chewing was the fad. There were ads about masticating all over the newspapers.  But it soon was replaced by calorie cutting. Now, our aisles are covered in protein bars, shakes, bottles of water and pills to lose weight. But this will never truly work because diet food does not make a person’s body work hard. It does not signal to the brain any long-time feelings of being full.

In fact, research shows that a person who chews their food longer will eat 11.5 % less over a year’s period. If you are 200 pounds that is over 20 lbs gone. Add eating real food that makes your body work hard to break it down while increasing energy and weight loss and losing weight will become much less painful. And…deprivation may be the newest fad  to exit our news-feed.

All I know is this…I lost 24 pounds in one month because I chose to eat whole foods and chew longer. I still had a little ice cream or a dessert every day. I could not really exercise due to being in chronic pain. But I watched the pounds peel off.

Now…please note. I am over weight. The first twenty pounds is going to be easier for me to lose than someone who is trying to lose the last twenty pounds. But…it was not a painstaking process. And that for me is the key.

In the end, diet food is a scam. If one learns the art of mastication, eating food will become a joy again and not something to of which to feel guilty all the time! J