Daily Archives: January 1, 2014

Highly Sensitive Men

Steve on bridge5lex2

You know who we are. You’ve seen us around your whole life, those of us who just don’t fit the mold. Men who don’t seem to be as tough or “manly” as the rest of our peers. Some estimates claim that 1 in 5 men, and women, are highly sensitive. That’s 20%. I believe it because I’m one of them and I’ve met so many others in my life.

Men who are highly sensitive are generally not valued by our society, not openly at least, tho without us society would be a poorer and sadder place to live. We tend to value a tougher aspect in our men and want them to just shut down their feelings and go along with the program. But for some of us that’s impossible.

Some of us have our hearts on our sleeves and are always willing to let our feelings out and be open about who we are, but not all HSM are able to do this. It’s a difficult thing to do and you don’t get a lot of support from anyone else in this except others who understand our dilemma, or our blessings, depending on how you see it. It’s OK for women to be this way, but not for men.

I’ve always fit the profile of being a sensitive male. Been called names like sissy, wimp, faggot and others all my life. I’ve always been told I’m just too sensitive for my own good and I need to toughen up and get over it. Well, I’m here to tell you that I haven’t done that. I’ve stayed sensitive even tho it’s hard work. Here’s what I’ve done.

First I’ve reclaimed the concept of toughness. I Am tough, tough as nails, and I have to be to withstand all the slings and arrows from a society that doesn’t value me for who I am. I’ve had to hide my feelings too many times when it was too dangerous and I’ve had to learn which battles to choose to fight. In so many ways it’s about the choices we make in how we live our lives.

I’ve chosen to embrace my sensitivity. It takes a lot of courage to do this but it’s what is required if you want to live a good life as a sensitive person. I’m an empath and I feel the things that others don’t too often. Sometimes it gives me an edge in knowing a situation or gauging others’ feelings and thoughts. It’s a blessing to me then. But sometimes it just plain hurts.

Sometimes I wake up and I just cry. It hits me so hard. All the pain and suffering I see around me in the world, and in myself too. It’s overwhelming to me, a common thing for HSM to feel. Life is just too much to bear sometimes and when you feel it all so deeply you can get hurt by just about anything. I have to be compassionate with myself.

But I am compassionate by nature, and so are most sensitive people. We tend to be aware of how someone else is feeling and base our actions on that awareness instead of our own beliefs about them. We Feel them in our guts. This is what I meant by calling my blog Naked Nerves. I feel so much I’m stripped of protection, naked to the world.

Highly Sensitive Men tend to feel too much most of the time. We feel the pain of the world too deeply and the suffering of others causes us personal pain and distress. We have to learn how to deal with that and still be able to function in society. We have to learn to engage with our sensitivity and honor it and make it an upfront aspect of who we are.

I talk about reclaiming ourselves a lot it seems. Maybe it’s because I’ve learned that it’s so important to be who you are in life, and not pretend to be someone you’re not. I’ve done both and life is much richer if you’re real about who you are. If you’re a HSM then you have to reclaim that part of who you are and let it shine in your actions. You Have to be Real.

This can mean some people will still trash you and chastise you for your way of being. Being sensitive for men is seriously stigmatized in our society. It’s like any stigma – rooted in fear and ignorance about who we really are. That’s why it’s so important for us to come out about who we are and show ourselves and Be who we are in the face of the onslaught of incivility that is sweeping our country these days.

The world needs us! It needs men who are willing to take the risk to stand out and say what’s right and what is wrong. Men who have been great leaders in our world have often been sensitive men who used their skills to enlighten society. They shower us with compassion and empathy for those that are without the basic needs of life. They show us a different way to be.

HSM are kind people as a rule, tho some who haven’t accepted themselves can be truly whacked. If you continually stuff your feelings they may tend to come out as anger and rage in most inopportune ways. Anytime you try to withhold yourself from who you are you face this risk, but it’s a serious one for HSM. We risk losing who we are if we stuff it. That’s not OK.

We can be wonderful partners and spouses to our mates because we care so much for them and often put their needs ahead of our own. We shouldn’t really do this but it’s so easy to do. But we risk losing ourselves in others too easily anyway by feeling what they feel to allow it in a deep interpersonal relationship. We can care, a lot, but we have to keep it in balance.

Balance is all part of this dance. How do you balance your own sensitivities with the needs of keeping up a bold face to the world? If you try too hard to meet society’s expectations of you as a Man, you can obscure your true nature of being a HSM and betray yourself. There’s a way to be who you are and still be strong and face the world on your terms.

It just requires you to allow those parts of yourself that Feel to come out to play whenever you can.  By being who you truly are people around you will gradually realize your gifts and accept you for what you can offer to them and the world and you can be yourself and just let it be. Sound real? Not really easily…. But it can be done.

It’s up to you to be real and accept who you are and to know that you are a Gift to the world just as you are. Don’t ever forget that. It’s a big deal to remember this. The world needs us and we owe it to both ourselves and our communities to be who we are. Our particular gifts are so needed these days and it’s just getting worse.

It’s time for us to stand up and take our places as Sensitive Men who are still able to withstand the difficulties of our heritage and yet change the world while we’re at it. Why not think big? It’s your life and you have to choose how you will live it. I sincerely hope you choose to let yourself be as sensitive as you need to be and let others see it and let it affect them. It will change the world if we do this.

Sensitively yours,

Steve


Filed under: Crying, Emotions, Health, Men, Mental Health, Relationships, Social Change, Stigma Tagged: Change, Coming Out, mental-health, Stigma

The Beginning

I have never been so glad to ring in a new year in all my life. Barely a minute after the ball dropped at Times Square and Will and I kissed, I was racing around the house changing out all the calendars. I couldn’t get the 2013′s down fast enough. Even the dog got caught up in the spirit of the occasion and was prancing on her hind legs, proclaiming her joy with delighted yaps as she followed me.

Not that putting up a new calendar makes all the bad stuff from the previous year go away—I don’t believe in magic—but the process of making things better has already begun, and I’m actually excited for the first time in YEARS! I didn’t know I could still get that way without being at least a little hypomanic, but here I am, totally sane and feeling like a kid on the eve of her birthday. Yippee!

Naturally, the majority of the excitement is related to my new job, which begins in approximately four days, twenty-two hours and 56 minutes, but who’s counting, right? I haven’t looked forward to starting a job with this much anticipation since the very first time I walked onto a nursing unit with my newly-minted RN back in 1997. I don’t know for sure why this is, even though it IS the job I’ve wanted for years…..but for some odd reason, I think I’m going to enjoy it and be very good at it. Just the sound of my job title thrills me: Client Care Surveyor. I whisper it to myself every now and again, savoring the syllables as they roll off my tongue. Did I mention I was really, really excited?

But I don’t feel that I’m being grandiose (although I encourage you, Constant Reader, to tell me if you think I am). I don’t expect to be the greatest surveyor who ever walked the face of the earth, and I know I’m taking a big risk by accepting a position that features considerable travel, although all of it is in the same time zone. I also know that I’ll have to be EXTREMELY strict with myself in matters of getting adequate sleep and taking my meds on time; I haven’t forgotten a single dose since I’ve been on a sleep schedule, and I think that’s helped put me into remission as much as anything.

Another great thing is that I’m going to be working with people who don’t know my history and who think I’m worthy enough to be in this position. That gave me a HUGE boost that I needed desperately in order to regain some confidence in myself……oh hell, who am I kidding, my thinking did a complete about-face.

The only thing I’m concerned about right now is trying to explain this sudden turnaround to Dr. A on Friday—my sister ratted me out at her last appointment, and I’m afraid he thinks I lied to him about NOT getting the job. Well, at the time of my last appointment, I hadn’t gotten it, didn’t expect to get it, and was resigned to the fact that I wouldn’t get it. How would I have known that things would be different this time?

Besides…..there are three types of people you should never, ever lie to: your priest, your attorney, and your doctor. I may sometimes forget to mention something during a session, but I’ve never lied to Dr. A and I’m not about to start now. How stupid is it to pay someone hundreds of dollars to give advice, and then not tell them the truth?

I know he has concerns about the job. He told me as much when I first brought it up, even though he thinks I need to work more and have more structure. He was one of the people who picked up the pieces of me after my catastrophic job loss in May, and he’s right to be concerned. (That’s why I never worry anymore—he worries enough for the both of us.) For that matter, I am too…..I know my illness better than anyone else, and I’ve had tremendous difficulties in controlling its symptoms. Frankly, it’s a crapshoot, and only time will tell if I can handle the responsibilities of this position.

But as it’s been said, no matter whether you think you can or think you can’t, you are right. It’s just that there’s a whole lot more of “I think I can” than there was before I went into remission and then was awarded the job. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s a whole ‘nother reason to celebrate! :-)


Things can only get better



It's New Years Day and I just woke up and everything in the world is perfect. Now wouldn't that be great! Of course nothing has changed apart from maybe, along with millions of other people, there's an expectation that things will get better. A little bit of hope that the new year will bring better things. Nothing wrong with that.
That's it. I'm now completely medication free. Bipolar medication that is. I stopped the Lithium too. I made my mind up that I need to see what happens completely med free. I don't think I could survive another year like last year. I don't want to make things worse but they can't stay the same either. I don't want to spend half of my life wishing I was dead and the other half running around like a headless chicken doing absolutely nothing of any use. Since I was diagnosed I've done everything I've been told to do to try and keep myself well. I've taken every tablet, been to every appointment and followed every bit of advice. I put my trust in these "experts" but they haven't delivered. Not anymore. It hasn't worked so I'm going to do it my own way. 
My GP rang me at 7pm last night. A friend rang him to tell him I'd stopped taking my tablets. She told me she'd done it because she was really worried about what might happen. I wasn't very happy but I know she meant well. He asked me if I was ok and why hadn't I gone to him first to discuss it. He said I'd put myself at a high risk of relapse. He said things could get a whole lot worse and that I could end up on even more medication or back in hospital. I told him that I was willing to take that chance and that I wasn't prepared to carry on with things as they are. I asked him how he knew what was going to happen. What made him so sure I wouldn't be perfectly ok? He said he couldn't be sure. That's just it, they don't know. No one does. I agreed to go and see him next week but that I wasn't going to change my mind.
Last year wasn't all bad but mostly it was. If it wasn't for my best friend and a few other special people I do think I'd be dead. I'm not exaggerating. It's the truth. 
It's difficult to know how I feel at the moment because I've got a shitty cold. I didn't go out last night. I just didn't feel up to it. I made myself stay up to see the new year in. I cried and cried for most of the evening. Everything on TV reminded me of something or someone. When it got to midnight I cried even more. I'm never ever going to spend another new year on my own no matter how ill I feel. I was awake for most of the night and what a long night. When I finally went to bed I promised myself that things are going to get better. 
I've got so many things I have to do this year. Most importantly I need a job.
I'm hoping I'll start to feel better and then everything else will fall into place. 

Things can only get better



It's New Years Day and I just woke up and everything in the world is perfect. Now wouldn't that be great! Of course nothing has changed apart from maybe, along with millions of other people, there's an expectation that things will get better. A little bit of hope that the new year will bring better things. Nothing wrong with that.
That's it. I'm now completely medication free. Bipolar medication that is. I stopped the Lithium too. I made my mind up that I need to see what happens completely med free. I don't think I could survive another year like last year. I don't want to make things worse but they can't stay the same either. I don't want to spend half of my life wishing I was dead and the other half running around like a headless chicken doing absolutely nothing of any use. Since I was diagnosed I've done everything I've been told to do to try and keep myself well. I've taken every tablet, been to every appointment and followed every bit of advice. I put my trust in these "experts" but they haven't delivered. Not anymore. It hasn't worked so I'm going to do it my own way. 
My GP rang me at 7pm last night. A friend rang him to tell him I'd stopped taking my tablets. She told me she'd done it because she was really worried about what might happen. I wasn't very happy but I know she meant well. He asked me if I was ok and why hadn't I gone to him first to discuss it. He said I'd put myself at a high risk of relapse. He said things could get a whole lot worse and that I could end up on even more medication or back in hospital. I told him that I was willing to take that chance and that I wasn't prepared to carry on with things as they are. I asked him how he knew what was going to happen. What made him so sure I wouldn't be perfectly ok? He said he couldn't be sure. That's just it, they don't know. No one does. I agreed to go and see him next week but that I wasn't going to change my mind.
Last year wasn't all bad but mostly it was. If it wasn't for my best friend and a few other special people I do think I'd be dead. I'm not exaggerating. It's the truth. 
It's difficult to know how I feel at the moment because I've got a shitty cold. I didn't go out last night. I just didn't feel up to it. I made myself stay up to see the new year in. I cried and cried for most of the evening. Everything on TV reminded me of something or someone. When it got to midnight I cried even more. I'm never ever going to spend another new year on my own no matter how ill I feel. I was awake for most of the night and what a long night. When I finally went to bed I promised myself that things are going to get better. 
I've got so many things I have to do this year. Most importantly I need a job.
I'm hoping I'll start to feel better and then everything else will fall into place. 

Things can only get better



It's New Years Day and I just woke up and everything in the world is perfect. Now wouldn't that be great! Of course nothing has changed apart from maybe, along with millions of other people, there's an expectation that things will get better. A little bit of hope that the new year will bring better things. Nothing wrong with that.
That's it. I'm now completely medication free. Bipolar medication that is. I stopped the Lithium too. I made my mind up that I need to see what happens completely med free. I don't think I could survive another year like last year. I don't want to make things worse but they can't stay the same either. I don't want to spend half of my life wishing I was dead and the other half running around like a headless chicken doing absolutely nothing of any use. Since I was diagnosed I've done everything I've been told to do to try and keep myself well. I've taken every tablet, been to every appointment and followed every bit of advice. I put my trust in these "experts" but they haven't delivered. Not anymore. It hasn't worked so I'm going to do it my own way. 
My GP rang me at 7pm last night. A friend rang him to tell him I'd stopped taking my tablets. She told me she'd done it because she was really worried about what might happen. I wasn't very happy but I know she meant well. He asked me if I was ok and why hadn't I gone to him first to discuss it. He said I'd put myself at a high risk of relapse. He said things could get a whole lot worse and that I could end up on even more medication or back in hospital. I told him that I was willing to take that chance and that I wasn't prepared to carry on with things as they are. I asked him how he knew what was going to happen. What made him so sure I wouldn't be perfectly ok? He said he couldn't be sure. That's just it, they don't know. No one does. I agreed to go and see him next week but that I wasn't going to change my mind.
Last year wasn't all bad but mostly it was. If it wasn't for my best friend and a few other special people I do think I'd be dead. I'm not exaggerating. It's the truth. 
It's difficult to know how I feel at the moment because I've got a shitty cold. I didn't go out last night. I just didn't feel up to it. I made myself stay up to see the new year in. I cried and cried for most of the evening. Everything on TV reminded me of something or someone. When it got to midnight I cried even more. I'm never ever going to spend another new year on my own no matter how ill I feel. I was awake for most of the night and what a long night. When I finally went to bed I promised myself that things are going to get better. 
I've got so many things I have to do this year. Most importantly I need a job.
I'm hoping I'll start to feel better and then everything else will fall into place. 

Things can only get better



It's New Years Day and I just woke up and everything in the world is perfect. Now wouldn't that be great! Of course nothing has changed apart from maybe, along with millions of other people, there's an expectation that things will get better. A little bit of hope that the new year will bring better things. Nothing wrong with that.
That's it. I'm now completely medication free. Bipolar medication that is. I stopped the Lithium too. I made my mind up that I need to see what happens completely med free. I don't think I could survive another year like last year. I don't want to make things worse but they can't stay the same either. I don't want to spend half of my life wishing I was dead and the other half running around like a headless chicken doing absolutely nothing of any use. Since I was diagnosed I've done everything I've been told to do to try and keep myself well. I've taken every tablet, been to every appointment and followed every bit of advice. I put my trust in these "experts" but they haven't delivered. Not anymore. It hasn't worked so I'm going to do it my own way. 
My GP rang me at 7pm last night. A friend rang him to tell him I'd stopped taking my tablets. She told me she'd done it because she was really worried about what might happen. I wasn't very happy but I know she meant well. He asked me if I was ok and why hadn't I gone to him first to discuss it. He said I'd put myself at a high risk of relapse. He said things could get a whole lot worse and that I could end up on even more medication or back in hospital. I told him that I was willing to take that chance and that I wasn't prepared to carry on with things as they are. I asked him how he knew what was going to happen. What made him so sure I wouldn't be perfectly ok? He said he couldn't be sure. That's just it, they don't know. No one does. I agreed to go and see him next week but that I wasn't going to change my mind.
Last year wasn't all bad but mostly it was. If it wasn't for my best friend and a few other special people I do think I'd be dead. I'm not exaggerating. It's the truth. 
It's difficult to know how I feel at the moment because I've got a shitty cold. I didn't go out last night. I just didn't feel up to it. I made myself stay up to see the new year in. I cried and cried for most of the evening. Everything on TV reminded me of something or someone. When it got to midnight I cried even more. I'm never ever going to spend another new year on my own no matter how ill I feel. I was awake for most of the night and what a long night. When I finally went to bed I promised myself that things are going to get better. 
I've got so many things I have to do this year. Most importantly I need a job.
I'm hoping I'll start to feel better and then everything else will fall into place. 

Things can only get better



It's New Years Day and I just woke up and everything in the world is perfect. Now wouldn't that be great! Of course nothing has changed apart from maybe, along with millions of other people, there's an expectation that things will get better. A little bit of hope that the new year will bring better things. Nothing wrong with that.
That's it. I'm now completely medication free. Bipolar medication that is. I stopped the Lithium too. I made my mind up that I need to see what happens completely med free. I don't think I could survive another year like last year. I don't want to make things worse but they can't stay the same either. I don't want to spend half of my life wishing I was dead and the other half running around like a headless chicken doing absolutely nothing of any use. Since I was diagnosed I've done everything I've been told to do to try and keep myself well. I've taken every tablet, been to every appointment and followed every bit of advice. I put my trust in these "experts" but they haven't delivered. Not anymore. It hasn't worked so I'm going to do it my own way. 
My GP rang me at 7pm last night. A friend rang him to tell him I'd stopped taking my tablets. She told me she'd done it because she was really worried about what might happen. I wasn't very happy but I know she meant well. He asked me if I was ok and why hadn't I gone to him first to discuss it. He said I'd put myself at a high risk of relapse. He said things could get a whole lot worse and that I could end up on even more medication or back in hospital. I told him that I was willing to take that chance and that I wasn't prepared to carry on with things as they are. I asked him how he knew what was going to happen. What made him so sure I wouldn't be perfectly ok? He said he couldn't be sure. That's just it, they don't know. No one does. I agreed to go and see him next week but that I wasn't going to change my mind.
Last year wasn't all bad but mostly it was. If it wasn't for my best friend and a few other special people I do think I'd be dead. I'm not exaggerating. It's the truth. 
It's difficult to know how I feel at the moment because I've got a shitty cold. I didn't go out last night. I just didn't feel up to it. I made myself stay up to see the new year in. I cried and cried for most of the evening. Everything on TV reminded me of something or someone. When it got to midnight I cried even more. I'm never ever going to spend another new year on my own no matter how ill I feel. I was awake for most of the night and what a long night. When I finally went to bed I promised myself that things are going to get better. 
I've got so many things I have to do this year. Most importantly I need a job.
I'm hoping I'll start to feel better and then everything else will fall into place. 

Jewish Geneology

The lovely Gimpet of Repressed Expressions has been encouraging me to write something Jewish.  It hadn’t crossed my mind, really, because it’s so much a part of who I am that I don’t think about sharing it with others unless somebody asks me specifically.  I have no qualms about sending people translations of Psalms and parts of the Torah (Hebrew Bible) though, so I guess that constitutes sharing.

That’s enough of an introduction, so let’s dive into the meat of this material.  My goal in this post is to show you how the Hebrews came to be a people, and how the different Abrahamic faiths split off from a common root.

That root was Abraham, whose original name was Abram.  Actually it was Avram, but the “v” is changed for a “b” in translated Christian Bibles because in the first translations into Greek and then Latin, the translators didn’t know that the little dot inside the Hebrew letter for “b” makes it “v” and not “b”.

Avram lived in Ur Kasdim, which is thought to have been somewhere in Iraq.  At that time, everybody worshiped idols, including his father Terakh.  (In Hebrew there is a gutteral sound like the “ch” in “Bach.”  I’m going to spell it “kh” because in Middle Eastern Hebrew it’s a softer sound.)  At the age of three Avram received a message from Above enlightening him that there is only one God, whose name is Y-H-V-H and is forbidden to pronounce.  We don’t know how to pronounce it anyway.  That knowledge was lost thousands of years later when the Hebrews were exiled to Babylon.  There are people who think it’s pronounced Yahweh on the basis of how it’s spelled in Hebrew, but that is not correct.

Avram married his cousin Sarai, whose name was later changed to Sarah.  Note that the change in both of their names involves the addition of an “h.”  That is because God gave them a part of His name as a reward for their efforts and valor.

Lots of things happened, and time went by, and Sarah was childless.  This was a great sadness to her, and other women made fun of her.  Avraham and Sarah had recently returned to Canaan from a trip to Egypt, where Pharaoh had given Sarah one of his princesses as a handmaiden, to make amends for a serious faux pas on his part.  Her name was Hagar.

Out of frustration (and lack of faith in God, for which she was sorely punished), Sarah begged Avraham to take Hagar as a second wife and father a child with her.  Since Hagar was Sarah’s slave, any child that Hagar gave birth to, fathered by Avraham, would belong to Sarah, and thus she would “have a child.”  That child was Ishmael.

When Hagar got pregnant with Ishmael, she started feeling superior to Sarah, who was already burning with shame because of what she had done.   Sarah banished Hagar to the desert, but some angels showed up and sent her back to camp to give birth.  Everything was OK until Ishmael got to be 13, when he started making fun of Sarah and things were very uncool, so Sarah banished both of them to the desert.

They almost died from thirst, but God showed up in the nick of time, showed them a spring of water that they hadn’t seen before, and assured Hagar that Ishmael would become a great nation and would live by the sword.  Thus the Arab nations, fathered by Avraham, split off and became their own people.

By this time Sarah was 90 and Avraham was 100.  God commanded all males to be circumcised (Ishmael got circumcised too, at the age of 13, but the Torah does not explain the mechanics of that).  Avraham circumcised himself (ouch!) and all the males in the camp.  On the third day after his circumcision, Avraham was sitting in the doorway of his tent in pain, when three Arabs showed up.  Avraham ran to wash their feet and make a feast for them.  Turns out they were actually angels (those angels!  You never know.), and in merit of his hospitality they gifted Sarah with a child.  That child was Isaac, but his name is really Yitzchak.  The Greeks weren’t such good translators.

Lots of things happened, and Yitzchak married Rebecca, whose name is really Rivka (you could easily make that mistake of pronunciation if you didn’t know about Hebrew vowels, which do not exist on parchment.  They are an oral tradition.  Modern Hebrew doesn’t use vowels either.  You just have to know them.)  Anyway, her name was Rivka.

Rikva was also childless for many years, but she was very bold and went to talk to God one on one and demanded children.  God liked her chutzpah and gave her twins: Jacob, whose name was really Yaakov, and Esau, whose name was really Esav (pronounced AY-sahv).  Yaacov became the heir to Yitzchak and Esav became the father of all of the other 70 Nations of the world.  If you are not an Arab or a Hebrew, then you are a descendant of Esav.

Just a word on my use of the word “Hebrew” instead of “Jew” or “Jewish”: the first usage of the word “Hebrew” (which is actually pronounced “Ivri” (pronounced EE-vree) was in reference to Avraham.  It is thought that the reason for this is two-fold: first, Avraham had to cross several rivers to get to Canaan, and Ivri comes from the Hebrew word “to cross.”  The other reason is that Avraham “crossed over” from idolatry to monotheism.   The descriptive term “Ivri” was also used when the Hebrews were slaves in Egypt, beginning with the capture of Joseph, whose name was really Yosef.

The words “Jew” and “Jewish” comes from the name “Yehudah,” who was one of the twelve sons of Yaacov, whose other name was Israel, which is pronounced Yisrael (Yis-rah-El).  Sound familiar?  Modern Hebrews living in Israel call themselves either Yehudim or Yisraelim.  So unless you come from the tribe of Yehudah, you really are something else.  But since the rest of the Tribes got scattered over the earth, everybody took the name Yehudah because it means “to give praise” and “to thank,” because we give praise and thank God all the time.

There is one Tribe that still knows who we are.  I say “we” because I am of that Tribe.  We are the Levites.  The Levites have two branches:  plain ol’ Levites, who are the musicians and teachers (that would be me), and the Kohanim, who are the Priests.  Bet you didn’t know Hebrews have priests, hey?  We do.  And they are traceable by a gene, the Kohen gene, that has come down through history in an unbroken chain.  The Levites don’t have such clear genetic evidence, but we have also come down the years, father to son, passing the tradition.

The reason for this difference is that Kohanim have very strict restrictions on who they can marry, and Levites don’t.

OK, that’s enough for today.  By now you’re probably good and confused.  That’s OK.  God willing I’ll continue tomorrow.

Abraham


Wednesdays Quote: Richard Dreyfuss

  “The worst thing for me about manic-depression is that it is simply free-floating. You can have no reason whatsoever, and yet you are in the depths of an inarticulatable sadness and grief and self-hatred.”  – Richard Dreyfuss

It’s Just Another Day

In January, no less.

I don’t subscribe to the whole resolution thing. The popular ones are all supposedly about ‘self-improvement’, and more often than not these days, about ‘losing weight to get healthy’. Me, I’m a firm supporter of the Health at Every Size movement, because I think the extremes in diet and exercise people push themselves to in order to fit a narrow stereotype of ‘beauty’ is kind of horrifying, if only for how it destroys a body’s ability to regulate itself, and I guess they don’t like having metabolisms that work? Granted, I’m not telling anyone that they’re wrong for doing what they want to do either, just that it’s increasingly surreal to me how many people seem to act as if they’re not permitted to live until they’re a size zero (or ten. Or whatever number small somehow magically makes them ‘socially acceptable’). :/

I also find the concept of resolutions weird, insomuch that if it IS about self-improvement, why do so many people go for one throwaway day? I dedicated myself to self-improvement and self-discovery as a child, and adding some niggling ‘Look at me being good can I have a low-cal cookie?!’ to it just has never sat right with me. Once again — I accept that others might get some use out of the annual boot to the backside, but… *shakes head sleepily* It all seems like yet another marketing ploy to convince someone that they need a gym membership, or a new kind of diet product that completely neuters the good parts from food in the name of ‘health’.

So, I guess what I’m saying in my own sleepy way, is that I continue to dedicate myself to loving myself. I continue to dedicate to living my life as fully as I can, a task that is often quite chairbound due to severe chronic fatigue. I continue to dedicate to giving no fucks or damns as to whether or not I meet society’s expectations, because they are shallow and meaningless. The main point is that *I* am happy in my own skin, and that such happiness can radiate out and make my corner of the world a brighter place overall. After all, I’ve got way too much time and effort dedicated to fighting myself, so why waste more on other people’s silly expectations?! *grins*

Anyways, whatever your personal approach to the new year, I hope you are all having a lovely day.

<3

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