Posted by Amanda on Monday
Mar 8, 2010 |
Classified as: Personal Development | Sub-Classified as: confidence, love, the feminine, the masculine
Note: This is a guest post by Anthony Licari, whose comments on Vive le revolution émotionnel provided a man’s perspective on my proposed Emotional Revolution. He continues his thoughts here, at my prodding (and a little violet zombie chewing), and much to my delight. This is beautiful stuff, man.
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I’ve heard, as many of us have, that the male is a simple beast and through his simplicities he often fails to understand women. At least, that’s what I’ve heard. The only thing I’ve ever been confused about is that statement alone. Men and women are both simple creatures and what we have done is over complicated a situation so as to justify our actions, fears and desires to name only a few.
Leave it to Amanda to lure me into enemy territory here to make some sort of case for men. I offer no argument, only explanation and through what will hopefully turn out to be a new way of looking at this idea that men are cold hearted, emotionless and simple beasts.
In the beginning God created man or some bullshit but regardless of how you think “man” arrived on this planet there is no escaping that we are not only a social species but a tribal one at that, from before the hominid to the most current version of our species. Thousands and thousands of years have shaped our biological derivatives and cultural imperatives. This lack of understanding between gender roles and innate sexual roles has caused quite a few discussions to head south in a hurry. As with all species, the need to reproduce and the need to protect the offspring runs so deep in our genetics that there is virtually nothing one can do to overcome this biological imperative. The problem that humans are facing today is a battle between our observed logical view of the world and what runs in our DNA.
It’s quite silly to think that I need to be the strongest man in the tribe in our current culture. With relative care and what have you the child will be in little to no danger where the man has to use his strength to protect the offspring and furthermore the offspring does not need to come from the strongest genes to increase its chances of survival. This we know, this we can rationalize. It is through our observations and interactions with the world that we create our perceived reality. So the reality the average man today has conjured up is how little of importance this is and we see this from a good portion of young males displaying confusion such as “I treat her so well but she goes for the jackass, I just don’t get it.” That reality both males and females perceive contradicts the world our bodies are expecting to be subjected to. Unless you’re planning on doing some serious meditation or brain washing you can plan on biology to win every single time.
The sad truth is that, with the exception of some very rare individuals, women are most fertile when they’re young and will put on their best show to attract the male with the highest status. If that male doesn’t go for her then she’ll go to the next one down the line and so on and so forth and this curve across the graph will abruptly come to an end right when her hormones start screaming at her to reproduce. She will have then found the best male that will mate with her within her window of fertility. Because a males genes transcend all age and a female has a much smaller time of attracting a man you will see much older men with women who are twenty years younger and rarely do you see a woman with a man who is twenty years younger. That’s why the nice guy does finish last because a woman can put him way down on her list knowing that he will always be there if all her other options fail.
So how does this play into why a man should still be an alpha male? Well the blame can’t be placed on any single sex. As a man(and most don’t consciously recognize this) the best way for them to have as many options as possible to mate is to compete with other males to assert dominance and invariably amass a level of security and consistency in whatever community he lives in. Men are, on a biological level only interested in a woman’s genes, her looks. For a female it’s not only strong genes that she seeks but that dominance and assertion within the tribe and it is through that which motivates the man. I hear a lot of feminist bullshit and I don’t mean that like “women shouldn’t do the same things a man does” or anything like that. What I’m talking about is what we were born to do. The fact of the matter is males in our species lead the tribe of apes to find food, shelter and security and in the contemporary world that biology still holds true where in 99% of cases you have alpha males leading organizations whether that be political, a corporation or a religious group. I’m not saying women can’t or shouldn’t, I’m explaining why that is. As for females they are far more adept at nurturing offspring and taking a mothering role and on the flipside that doesn’t mean men can’t or shouldn’t do that but in both cases the innate biology from the time we are born is driving us to do those things.
So I’m some dick that functions as a sociopath it seems but the reality is far from that. I’m a deep hopeless romantic. It is what I have desired from females since I was in second or third grade. I would write little love letters the night before school and then slip them into their backpacks where they would find them later on. My heart has been devastated beyond repair and yet I continue to seek. I encourage you to start corresponding with me and allow me to write letters that will make your heart turn to jelly.
To take that, which is the truth and apply it to this conversation is that a lot of women like that. They want a man to be in touch with his emotions and be able to communicate with her. The problem is that the majority of the time when that characteristic is found in a man it also brings with it a slew of undesirable biological traits. The man often has not yet asserted dominance over other men in her life or can provide the same level of security that other men can and to come full circle here that is why that guy as lovely as his personality is will stand lower on her picking ladder of men than a guy who can provide for her biologically but is uninteresting and may even treat her poorly.
The sad truth is that when my heart was destroyed it was for this very reason and for the most part has continued on until today. Imagine being inside of my head and seeing through to the biological root of our function and yet unable and unwilling to bring myself to comply when I know exactly what I need to do to get the women that I want. I’m a wreck in that sense and hell, if my novel ever gets published one can only dream that I’ll be able to continue my life as a hopeless romantic and simultaneously provide for her as well.
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Anthony hangs out at Lounge Nouvelle (his brain child), with the email gnomes, and on Twitter. Go say hey. He likes that sort of thing.
Posted by Amanda on Tuesday
Feb 9, 2010 |
Classified as: Personal Development | Sub-Classified as: emptiness, love, silence
Ronna got me thinking, as she often does, about the nature of things. Her words screamed at me from the laptop screen, exciting and terrifying me all at once.
In silence, a literal breaking occurs. I AM BROKEN. Acknowledge it. Name it. Ouch.
SILENCE IS BROKEN. My voice returns. I will roar.
I didn’t roar today. I sat in silence for close to an hour, whittling away at a project for a friend. My head was alive. My heart felt empty. I felt lost. Not right. The more I tried to put my finger on it, the more I detached. The emptiness clung to me like a second skin.
Emma soothed me.
Ride it out. It will happen periodically for years and years to come. Just remember, these times are great for growth. Even when they feel like you’ve slipped through a crevasse into Bizarroworld.
I sat back and thought about growth. I’d done an impressive amount of growing lately, especially considering that I draw the Tower at least a few times a week. For those of you unfamiliar with Tarot, the Tower card signifies big change. Like, cataclysmic change. To draw this card more than once in a month, let alone a few times a week, means that big things are coming and have come to pass. I was am unsure of the root of the growth.
Growth took a back seat for a while.
Christopher talked about the nature of geekdom, which spurred him into asking the question: “What’s so wrong with being an Average Joe?”
Mediocrity. My own special version of Hell: where everyone is cookie cutter average and everything is a bloody suburb. I grew up in a suburb. It wasn’t horrible but it was decidedly medicore. And, like Ronna, it got me thinking. Why is mediocrity so bad? After all, we’re nothing average to the people who love us.
The thinking continued.
The emptiness persisted.
The silence remained unbroken.
The darkness lapped at my toes as I dipped them in the abyssal water.
And then it hit me. Or bit me. I don’t know which. Ouch.
I was thinking too damn much; paying too much attention to the emptiness, the silence, and the darkness, trying to will it away instead of accepting it. Not everyone is going to like me or what I write about. Not everyone is going to be interested in my company. It’s not a slight. You’d think I’d have learned that when I was a teenager. Apparently, I’m slow on the uptake.
Embracing the dark is difficult. It’s not a forever state. It’s just for now.
Posted by Amanda on Thursday
Feb 4, 2010 |
Classified as: Everything Else | Sub-Classified as: love
You’re my world
The shelter from the rain
You’re the pills
That take away my pain
You’re the light
That helps me find my way
You’re the words
When I have nothing to say
And in this world
Where nothing else is true
Here I am
Still tangled up in you
I’m still tangled up in you
Still tangled up in you
You’re the fire
That warms me when I’m cold
You’re the hand
I have to hold as I grow old
You’re the shore
When I am lost at sea
You’re the only thing
That I like about me
And in this world
Where nothing else is true
Here I am
Still tangled up in you
I’m still tangled up in you
How long has it been
Since this storyline began
And I hope it never ends
And goes like this forever
In this world
Where nothing else is true
Here I am
Still tangled up in you
Tangled up in you
I’m still tangled up in you
Still tangled up in you
Tangled Up in You – Staind (The Illusion of Progress)
I found you in the most unlikely place, almost five years ago. This love thing; there’s nothing quite like it.
Posted by Amanda on Saturday
Jan 16, 2010 |
Classified as: Everything Else | Sub-Classified as: family, health, love
Truly, she is the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known. Do you see her smile? Do you see mine (and yes, that’s me with long, blonde highlighted hair)? She does that to me every time I see her. A full-on guffaw, head thrown back and all.
I’m no stranger to death. I’m certainly well acquainted with chronic illness. For the twenty-three years that I’ve been alive, the woman in the picture – my mother – has fought to gain a foothold against her ever-growing list of illnesses: Cushings Syndrome, Nelson’s Syndrome, and Growth Hormone Deficiency are the longest standing.
I spent my childhood wrapped in tales of Middle Earth, trying desperately to escape from our tortured version of reality. It was fiction that brought us together, even when things looked bleakest; when the doctors told us that there was nothing they could do for her, short of experimental medical procedures (and thank the fates for Canada and our medical system).
Lesser people would have given up this fight. Lesser men would have left her to deal with her own problems. But my family – though flawed, just like everyone else’s – has proven that it takes more than illness, desperation, and sadness to tear us apart.
Family is the most important part of life. You fight to keep it together. Without it, life’s pretty much meaningless.
Chris Hoffman, my Dad
Standing at the Tunnel’s Mouth
Just before my wedding in the summer of 2008, her condition began to change. Her health had been relatively stable. But then her eyes began to tear up uncontrollably. She began to find it hard to breathe.
By the time November rolled around, she was diagnosed with a new disease: sarcoidosis. Sarcoid manifested itself in pronounced scar tissue on her legs and the formation of nodules in her lungs, which we thought was due to the plethora of medication she’s taken over the years. So, the doctors put her on corticosteroids, namely prednisone – a particularly nasty steroid that my niece was on to fight off infection during her chemotherapy.
We thought that by the time December 2009 rolled around, her lungs would have made considerable progress toward better health. Her neurologist in Vancouver had told her that if her lungs were under control by 2010, we could put her into Growth Hormone treatment, which had been a dream until now. In spite of our medical system, Growth Hormone is still considerably expensive.
However, much to our surprise, her lungs hadn’t changed at all. In fact, they’d gotten worse.
Adding Another to the List
I got the news last night that the worsening condition was due to a new disease on the block: pulmonary fibrosis, which means that the capillaries in her lungs are twisting and hardening. This can lead to lung failure, heart failure, and eventually death.
Last night, my heart was completely shattered by the news.
Today, it really sank in.
I did my research this morning. And then I broke down into uncontrollable tears. I’ve been faced with the notion of mortality many times before. On some small scale, I’ve even tried to accept it.
I really fail at accepting my parents’ mortality.
No child wants to accept the fact that, one day, her parents will die. In spite of overwhelming odds that she might not make it through the next surgery, she has lived. I’ve taken that as the rule, not the exception.
Every illness, including the new kids on the block, cannot be explained. We don’t know how she managed to get Cushings. We know that Cushings lead to Nelson’s. We’re not sure how Growth Hormone Deficiency played into it. And sarcoid is a mystery. Hell, even the pulmonary fibrosis is a variable to which there is no quantifiable answer.
Amor Vincit Omnia, Even Illness
Love conquers all.
When I was in school, the teachers would ask: “Amanda, who is your hero and why?”
I would say, without a hint of irony, “My mother. Because she doesn’t survive. She fights. She lives. She is my sunshine at the end of a dark tunnel.”
The kids would laugh at me. None of them understood the magnitude of her heroism. In response, I would tilt my chin defiantly and stand by my words. I knew her strength just as intrinsically as I knew my own. Her strength fed mine just as mine fed hers. We were are a team.
Today, when people ask me that question, the answer is still the same. It’s not a celebrity, or a historical figure, or even my beloved Shakespeare. No, it has been and always will be my mother.
Her heroism, as I’ve called it, can be defined as nothing short of superhuman. Others would have stopped living and only managed to survive.
Instead, she smiles. She laughs. She bakes marvelous cookies and sends them to us in Vancouver. She shops. She listens. She hears. She is concerned. She loves.
She isn’t prepared to give up without a fight.
Neither am I.
Posted by Amanda on Saturday
Jan 16, 2010 |
Classified as: Personal Development | Sub-Classified as: geekery, independence, love
A few days back, I slipped out of my skin for a few minutes to share my trepidations with you. After a brief recovery period, I’ve decided to rip off the skin grafts (pleasant imagery, isn’t it? This is the problem with writing science fiction and horror: I thrive on the macabre and it sometimes *ahem* bleeds into my non-fiction).
Ronna got me thinking about Love today. Not the sappy kind of love that switches your brain off. Not even the frightening kind of love that makes you crazy with jealousy. She got me thinking about the kind of love where you’re sure you’ve got it but you’re not sure you’re willing to succumb to the Dark Side of Dependency.
The Battle Begins.
It would be easy to classify the Battlefield as a rivalry between the genders; I could draw upon old clichés and still make my argument work. In truth, the Battlefield is far more abstract and, by extension, far more complicated. Instead of this being a simple battle of the sexes, this is a war between love and independence.
Stay with me. It’s about to get geeky in here.
Love, the Dark Side of the Force, is passion wrapped in what appears to be chains. Independence – freedom from Love – is the detachment that the Jedi preach.
Love is the variable: wild, unpredictable, and constantly evolving. It thrives on our wild abandon but keeps its chains wrapped loosely around our waists. Independence – or, detachment within a relationship – is calmer but doesn’t press on us the way love does, especially at the beginning. Detachment is where we strive to be once we’ve found our Dark Lord waiting in the wing.
What do we do once the chains start tightening and we’re in danger of losing our individuality altogether? Refuse to submit to Love and lose out on all of its happy shiny qualities? Or submit, in spite of the creeping chains?
Submit and refuse the chains.
Once upon a time Every day, I struggle with this. I consider myself headstrong. Bold. Just a little on the wild side. I used to consider the bonds of love to be confining. I watched helplessly as the girls I knew were swallowed up by Love. They didn’t call anymore. It slipped their minds that we had a coffee date. They became an extension of their Love, instead of Love becoming an extension of their individual personalities.
The chains confused me.
After all, I’ve been in committed relationship after committed relationship for many years, until I stumbled into a dimly lit conference room and met my husband. During those relationships, I submitted, chains and all. The Dark Side may not be all that bad but be wary of losing yourself entirely; you’ll start looking like Darth Revan and that’s just not okay.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
- The Code of the Sith
I began to familiarize myself with the teachings of Independence – the Light Side. It was a long time coming. There’s no reason to smother oneself with imaginary chains when we’re the ones who put them there in the first place. We imagine that because we’re in love, we’re not allowed to retain our Self. But it is our Self that keeps us whole. Sane. Palatable to those outside our relationship. Just as the Light Side of the Force cannot exist without the Dark Side, Love cannot exist without Independence.
If we live inside Love entirely, we smother it.
If we refuse to submit to Love and seek only Independence, we are ultimately alone.
We must submit and refuse the chains. Find a way to keep our Love and our Self.
I love my husband – my Mike – entirely. We’re content to be together without having to acknowledge each other every moment of every day. We are happy being in the same apartment: I create, he games. We game together. We create armies of miniatures to take over the galaxy. It’s a beautiful, geeky thing.
I’m eager to know how you discovered the balance of Love & Independence in your life.
