Forgive me. I’m feeling very Jane today.
I’ve thought about writing several times on my website but it seems that something keeps getting in the way. Today, it was the movie “Becoming Jane” that seemed to impede my writing. Oddly, it’s Jane Austen who’s the writer. I feel a bit more like the empty paper being written upon.
Yesterday, I saw someone tweeting this…
It is sad that there is no woman I know in my locality who I’d like to go on a date with…
I guess what I am trying to say is that I am getting old and lonely and it is kinda freaking me out a bit…
I never thought for one second my life would turn out with me being still a bachelor at 38
I mean, no one knows what life will throw at one, and how life can take unexpected turns, and quite often in directions totally unfamiliar
I never wanted the life I got. I wanted to be married and working and doing stuff worth while with whatever time I had been given…
…not living in a fucking hostel all on my own with no one to share life with. This is not the life I would have chosen if I had the choice
With that said…
I’ve started a sort of semi-tradition about this time of year. I call it “semi” because I’ve sort of fallen into it. I get a bunch of DVDs and play “catch-up” during the holidays… I mean, I gather up a bunch of them and do sort of a ‘movie marathon’ and don’t do much of anything except watch movies I’ve either never seen or ones which I’ve seen before but it’s been a while.
I was looking at the ones I chose this year and noticed that for some reason, I seem to have a craving for psychological thrillers this time. Scary movies. I was wondering to myself if there was something strangely wrong with me. It’s Christmas. Why am I watching “Psycho,” “Corpse Bride,” “Paranormal Activity,” “House on Haunted Hill,” Boris Karloff’s “The Body Snatcher,” four Alfred Hitchcock thrillers and… the icing on the scary movie cake… Stanley Kubrick’s “The Shining“? ~ None of which I’ve seen. Being Jane Doe.
Not very Christmasy.
What’s wrong with me? Maybe there’s nothing wrong. Maybe my subconscious is trying to force me into something society says I must obey this time of year. To conform. To be more religious – although I gave up on organized religion several years ago. To be more Christ-like. I gave up on being a Christian years ago when I connected the dots and figured out more humans have died in the name of Christianity than for anything else I could think of. I decided my God didn’t discriminate against gays, lesbians, smokers, drinkers, prostitutes, or those who have tattoos or drink coffee. In fact, my God is neither masculine nor feminine anymore. My God is pure energy. An energy that is within all of us. My God is not Christian, Muslim, or Jewish. All of those Gods are man-made. They’re also all masculine.
I want nothing to do with it.
Jane Austen lived in a world where men ruled and women were expected to conform. A world where women married not for love but for money. And men wonder why women in the world today are still gold-diggers??? I wonder where women learned that from? (Note: sarcasm.) In Jane’s world, women weren’t allowed to write or publish anything. Women were not allowed to be composers like Clara Schumann that I wrote about earlier on this website. Women were expected to get married and have babies. They weren’t allowed to voice their opinion or, Heaven forbid, be educated.
Jane never married.
I was having lunch with my nuclear scientist friend from France last Friday… the day the world was supposed to end, Remember? It didn’t end, but I do believe there’s a new awakening – a new dawn, so to speak. A new consciousness and I can feel it. It’s happened within and I can feel a re-birth all around me. It’s been going on for about 3-1/2 years now. She and I were talking about the small town we both live in at the moment and France, half a world away. She told me women there don’t “normally” have their first baby until they’re 30 years old. Here, where we live, “girls” (because they are) are expected to be married and having their first baby at the ripe old age of 18. If you reach 21 and you’re not married, culture in this area (mostly Mormonism) tells you that you’re an old maid. It’s something I grew up with and believed in whole-heartedly. It’s also what helped shape my future and the reason I’m no longer Mormon, or religious. I was lied to. I’m now just the girl with the blue elephant tattoo, if that tells you anything. Anything at all.
The train is moving and it can’t be stopped.
When I heard our American President (Obama) give a speech about the massacre of children recently, I heard him say that “God had called the children home.” I wanted to scream from the highest mountaintop that it wasn’t God who called them ~ It was Adam, with a hail of gunfire that mowed them down like toy soldiers. It had nothing to do with God. If anything, God was covering its eyes, unable to see through its tears being shed in the name of freedom. A freedom that currently allows someone to own guns and use them on other human beings even though that act is against the law.
Where do we draw the line?
The line has been crossed so many times. The day after the massacre, I started making a list of those I knew who had died from a gunshot. At the top of that list was Abe Lincoln. At the bottom of that list was my own stepfather. My name was almost on that list when I was shot at while trying to pick huckleberries in the woods near my home a couple of years ago. For some reason, the berries were late by almost a month that season - thanks to “global warming” (aka “climate change” or rather “climate crisis”) and thanks to an early wild turkey hunt coinciding. It meant that my path and the paths of all those gun-toting game hunters crossed and I felt the breeze of a bullet go by me. I never saw the hunters but I could hear them and the turkeys in the bushes nearby were just as frightened by them as I was… I was out in the middle of the woods in the mountains, out of cell phone range and had I been hit, I’m sure I would have been abandoned and left to bleed to death. No one would want to claim a murder, even if it was accidental.
I’ve shot a gun before.
It scared the shit out of me. I hit my tin-can target. I didn’t know I could. I’ve done archery before and I’ve always been a good aim. It was the power behind the pistol that frightened me. To know that I could so easily kill something scared me. To know that my own stepfather was killed with a gun and it changed my life forever. I’ve been against having guns in the home. Garage, yes. House, no.
While all this has been coursing through my brain this last week, I went to get my earring fixed. It’s a black pearl. My dog, Kiwi, pulled it off its post while I was wearing it last week. Because it’s a real pearl, I didn’t want to expose it to chemicals by gluing it back on myself. I took it to a jeweler I knew who is the husband to a retired co-worker. He runs a jewelry “shop” out of his home. As I was talking to him and asking about his grandchildren, he asked me to walk behind the counter so he could show me photos he had of them hanging above the glass display counter and which could only be viewed from where he was standing.
His grandchildren were watching over him while he worked.
As I looked up, there, above the glass counter and right next to the smiling faces of his grandchildren, was a pistol. It was nailed and hanging there as if it belonged – framed in its own way – ready and loaded to use, if necessary.
It made me think.
I wondered how the shopkeeper’s life would change if guns were banned and our 2nd Amendment right to own guns was taken away from us. I envisioned a robber coming into the shop, demanding all the jewels and money from my elderly co-worker’s husband. He would have no way to protect himself. Police cannot be camped out at his home 24/7. The vision was too much. It made me shudder. Although I’m against guns, I do support the right to own a gun. I just think it’s gone to extremes. No one needs a semi-automatic anything. And no one needs to be getting a gun for a Christmas present. It’s not a very Christian thing to do, if you ask me. Of course, we’ve not only lost sight of what it means to be a Christian but also what it means to carry a weapon ~ for self-defense.
The problem is, they’ve both become twisted and perverse. Killing has become common place ~ in the name of religion and in the name of freedom.
Forgive me. I’m clearly being Jane.
A woman. I’m thinking like a woman. Not like a man or a Muslim, a Jew, or a Christian for that matter. I’m thinking like a hu-man with a heart. A conscience. A soul. A destiny. A purpose. Something that’s been lost along the way… a love for humanity.
The song “Once Upon a December” has been echoing through my head lately, along with these words…
“…no one knows what life will throw at one(self), and how life can take unexpected turns, and quite often in directions totally unfamiliar”
This territory I’m treading on is unfamiliar, yet somehow very familiar to me. It’s as if I’ve written the chapter before – long ago – Once upon a December - the pages are quite worn. I’m getting tired of reading it and re-reading it in the headlines. Over and over again… always with the same conclusion…
Someone ends up on a body bag. And that’s where the scary movies come in, I guess… They’re all murder scenes and the stories may be somewhat unfamiliar since I’ve never actually seen any of them but for some reason, predictably, they all end up with someone in a body bag.
I have to ask myself, as Jane the writer, Is life imitating art or is our art somehow intertwined with our lives? Our true selves, as humans, plastered across the silver screen and our dark side is finally catching up to us? Has the caged shadow been following us, chasing us, all along?
If Lincoln could speak from his grave, would he have the answer to this question?
Maybe he already had the answer for us before he died…
“America will never be destroyed from the outside.
If we falter and lose our freedoms,
it will be because we destroyed ourselves.”
~ Abraham Lincoln
More chilling was this photo I found on Twitter. If you’ve read my ”Disappearing Act” and my “Shop ’til You Drop“ posts, it may send chills through you as well. But of course, I’m plainly being Jane and writing about the dots I see. First it was our right to peaceably assemble and blow the whistle on injustice, then it’s the right to due process in the 5th Amendment, and now the right to own firearms is at risk. Our freedoms are being slowly eroded away… not to mention the right to privacy and not be under surveillance by those who were put in office to protect our freedoms. We have now become the target of assassination-on-freedom.
Soon, we can all sit in front of the black noise-making machine in our living rooms and bedrooms while we freely smoke pot and “drop out” – off the radar screen and disappear from the pages of our lives… Jane says, with a heavy dose of sarcasm.