Category: Words

What the people who don’t wear shades don’t know is that some of us wear shades because they’re all that stop us being eye-naked — forced to gaze, unprotected, at the wet and bleeding face of reality as it squirms and pulses and writhes like a razor slicing a child’s eyeball or the sight of something dead, twitching, just once before collapsing and bloating
–Neil Gaiman

It is not easy to be naked.

In what way?

In any way. Actually or just metaphorically.
Eye-naked, naked souled or just plain physically nude.

Having the gaze of others on your body, mind or soul is…trying for those of us who think about such things. Yes, the weirdos.

And you know what? I take back what I said about being physically naked. That’s really not so difficult, depending on the situation. For the first time with a new lover? It’s a nervous feeling, but a good one. In front of a bunch of people who are all fully clothed? Maybe that wouldn’t be fun. Naked among other congenial naked folk, like at a beach or Burning Man? Not a problem at all, except for getting dirt and sand in inconvenient places and sunburn. Mentally, it’s much easier than being naked souled. Much, much easier.

Showing people who you are, who you *really* are requires a lot of courage. A willingness to be vulnerable. A willingness to admit that you could be rejected, but you’re going to show your soul anyway. It’s an amazing feeling, but so hard to do. Especially if it’s ever blown up on you. There is nothing quite like letting someone see who you really are and having them grind their heel on it like a cigarette butt. It’s something you maybe don’t quite recover from.

So then what? You just don’t do it again, right?

Wrong.

Well.
Yes. You do stop doing it. You close yourself off.

And what does it get you? Right. Nothing.

It’s a difficult thing to wrap your mind around, but in order to get the kind of love you probably want? You have to be open to it you have to trust. You have to have faith. You have to be vulnerable.

Or you won’t ever get it.

I know, right?

It does suck.

But it’s the only way.
I’ve tried everything else. Trust me, I know.

Genocide
Nuclear war
Rape
Torture
Cancer
Tsunamis
Tornados

Obviously, the list is long. Much longer than this. The world is full of horror, almost as much horror as wonder, it sometimes seems. We shouldn’t have to understand these things, because no one should ever have to experience them. Some of these things are not entirely within our control. We don’t have cures for all of the various maladies that exist. Although we are impacting the world’s climate and increasing the incidence and severity of storms, we can’t stop weather events completely.

All of the really loathsome things, though? They’re all on us. We created them and continue to perpetuate them. Genocide wasn’t foisted on us by some sort of outside force. We kill our neighbors for our own twisted reasons. We go to war. We torture people–in time of war or sometimes just for sexual gratification. We rape, and kill, and are generally not very good human beings a lot of the time. We even invented weapons capable of killing tens of thousands of people at a time.

No one is forcing us to do it. It’s our choice.

What the fuck is wrong with us?

How is it that the same species who sculpted the Pieta’ and built Notre Dame de Paris also invented Ricin? We can write books that inspire people, that make people laugh or cry or think–but some of us also decided that it was OK to throw acid in a girl’s face if you think she disrespected us. How is it that we had a war that killed so many millions of people that we decided that the best possible way to end it was with a super-weapon that wiped out more than 150,000 people? Who decided that it was somehow OK to wipe out all of the world’s Jews, homosexuals, Rom and “political undesirables?” How can we be so sublime and so hellish at the same time?

I am looking out my window at yellow flowers, green grass, and a beautiful maple tree with the blue sky peeking out behind the leaves. The roses are in full bloom. The strawberries are getting ripe. There’s a warm breeze. Little girls are running up and down the sidewalk laughing. Cars passing by are slowing down to wave. My neighbor is washing his boat. It’s about the most peaceful scene imaginable.

How does that get reconciled with what happened at UCSB, or Newtown? Or my own High School? Dahmer/Bundy/Gacy? Or the girls raped and then hung in India? Syria? Boco Haram? Rwanda/Darfur/Kurdistan/Congo/and on and on and on? Half a million Iraqis?

Or can it get reconciled?

The vast majority of us would never rape or mutilate someone, but we support government policies that provide money to regimes that do.

Question of scale? If each of us contributes just a little bit to the military industrial complex that kills hundreds of thousands of people is that the same as one person raping and murdering a little boy? Is it worse? Is it different?

I don’t know, but I think it’s something we need to consider before we feed the machine.

For now, though, I think I will go have a glass of wine on the porch and enjoy the peaceful evening in my world.

I’ve been following the #YesAllWomen hashtag on Twitter from a distance. Not because of anything in particular, just because I haven’t looked at Twitter much in general for several days. Or much of anything, really. So I’m a bit behind in the news lately. Stuff is going on in my personal life. I don’t feel much like paying attention to society as a whole. Still, some of it does leak in.

For a great summary of what is going on, go here .

Better still, take some time and read through some of the tweets.
Some of the stories are very powerful. Even in 140 characters. A lot of men are being very supportive, which is not a bit surprising because most men (like most women) are good people.

But I think that a lot of men may be having a hard time understanding what women are so upset about. Because the statistics on how many women have been sexually attacked are hard to believe. Because the vast majority of men don’t knowingly harm women, and would hate to think they might be harming us unknowingly. Because I just don’t think most men can understand that even those of us who have not been raped live with a level of fear that they don’t simply because we are women. Because white men in particular don’t know what it is like to have someone assume that you do not know what you are talking about because your voice is higher and softer than their’s. Because men do not typically know what it’s like to have to be afraid of normal, everyday situations like walking alone in a park, answering the door or being out after dark. Because I don’t think that most men can really understand how frightening it is to know that any time we say no and he pushes back…we don’t really know if he is going to take no for an answer.

It’s not because we discount their feelings, their fears, their own experiences of powerlessness, rape and abuse. It’s not because we don’t realize that there are things about being a man that we don’t understand. It’s because we are talking about our own issues, not theirs. We aren’t attacking them, we are trying to make ourselves heard in a world in which people often seem not to want to listen.

It definitely isn’t because we think that all men, or even most men, are bad.

Yes, a few of us are being a little over zealous, but that doesn’t mean that these stories do not need to be heard.

But I’ve been following it at a bit of a distance because this is stuff that you don’t like thinking about too hard even if you are a woman. We all have stories of close calls, of times when men got grabby and we didn’t know how it would turn out, of being called whores or bitches because we said something a man didn’t like. Of maybe giving in when we really would have preferred not to because we didn’t want to find out how someone would react to our continuing to say no. Most of us have seen a fist clench even if it didn’t actually strike us.

And then…
Guilt.

It is really hard to complain too much about my lot in life when my life is so overwhelmingly good. It’s comfortable. I have more than enough to eat. I am safe, mostly. I have heat, and running water. I have a job that pays pretty well. I can do anything I choose to do without getting permission from one of the men in my life. I am, largely, my own boss. Many, if not most of the women in the world do not have all of that, and they live in societies where they are seen as “lesser than” simply because they were born female. They get killed or put up for adoption because their family wanted a boy. They get killed by their families to uphold the family honor if they do something against the laws of their society. Even if their violation is that they were violated themselves. There is very little justice in the lives of many of the world’s women.

So it’s hard to feel too put upon when a man doesn’t believe that I really am “the IT guy” or when I think twice about going for a hike in Forest Park alone. I’m not being raped and then killed by my family for dishonoring them.

But this isn’t about one-upping each other’s pain. It’s about getting everyone to understand each other better. It’s about getting people to understand that the violence isn’t just happening in a few isolated cases. It’s happening to us all, and all of us need to care about it or it will never stop.

Ultimately it’s not a male or female issue. It’s a human one.

I keep reminding myself.