Living the Dream

I’m annoyed with myself, and with all of last night’s events. I went to bed early to read myself to sleep and thus, I missed watching one of the most feel-good stories of the Olympics with my husband: The outcome of the Men’s 1500m Race. I was woken up several times in the night, once with my husband coming to bed, giddy about what he had just witnessed in Olympics history, then around 12:30 a.m. when I heard a door opening and shutting in my house (my middle son had been at our youngest son’s apartment helping him put together a 1000 piece bedroom dresser, and then decided to come back here – thankfully he texted me that the mystery door noise was him, and not an intruder. My husband slept through that disturbance.) And then, around 4 a.m. our collie, Josie, started panting and pacing, and so I put on my grumpy pants, and I took her out into the humid darkness to do her thing. (My husband and my son slept through that wake-up call, as well.) Why do we mothers hear all of the noises and distress calls of the night? Is it primal from the days when we were waking up with our babies on the hour? I’ve retired from raising children. Shouldn’t my internal alarm system be set to “off”, now? Sigh. Enough rant, back to the feel-good story:

For the first time in 112 years, two American men were on the podium for the 1500m race. This was entirely unexpected. The favorite runners to win were a Norwegian and a Brit who had apparently been trash talking each other all week. Cole Hocker, an American runner from Indiana won the gold medal and broke an Olympic record, and his teammate, Yared Nuguse from Kentucky won the bronze. (Britain’s Josh Kerr came in second.) I watched a few interviews with the young American men/medalists, and both talked about how it was actually good to be “under the radar”. They believed that they were every bit as good as the other lauded runners, and they stated that this belief in themselves is vital because long distance running is largely a mental game. According to these athletes, if you are at your physical peak, the hardest part of it all, is the mental game. Yared stated that towards the end of the race, he just repeats to himself, “Stick with it. Stick with it.”

Yared Nuguse is a first generation American. His parents were political refugees from Ethiopia and became American citizens in the 1980s. As I was lapping up all of the background stories on these runners, I ended up on a runners’ site on Reddit. This exchanged really moved me:

Did any other immigrants to the USA get emotional when the camera flashed to Nuguse parents crying? Maybe it was just me, but I felt immigrant tears of joy…it probably took A LOT to get to the USA, and now to win a medal for this country…only other immigrants would understand the depth of their tears… (tcumber)

I’ve been following Nuguse since his NCAA years. Extremely happy for him (and Cole). It would have been one thing to win an Olympic bronze in a slow race because of some fluke, but to PB in a race that sets the Olympic record shows he left it all on the track. He’s already one of the top 5 milers of all time, but he’s now also the 9th fastest 1500m runner all time, and looks like he could go faster. (DomDeLaweeze)

He made our entire ethiopian household proud. My mom choked up when they panned to his mom. (Besk123)

Yes!..because your mom is probably intimately aware of the struggle and sacrifice to get here, and to see what can happen in this country with just ONE GENERATION.

THIS is the American Dream we all came for, and are willing to work so hard to attain…a better life not only for ourselves, but for our families.

I shed happy tears with them because I understood…many of us understand. It is more than winning a bronze medal. It is understanding where they started, how hard they all worked, and where they are all now….in Paris…at the Olympics…watching their son do so well. He could have finished last…there is still pride that he got there and did his best…but he won a bronze.. Oh my….

Sigh…someone just cut some onions beside me….(tcumber)

When I read that, I must have been cutting onions. I write this with a lump in my throat. With all of the negative, divisive political hoopla swirling around us these days, we must remember what really makes us great. We are a nation of Native Americans, who are only just recently getting the recognition which they wholly deserve for their reverence and caretaking of our beautiful land for generations and generations, and then of waves and waves of immigrants (some brought here against their will during the horrible scourge of slavery). Regardless of our beginnings, all of us here have been chasing the American Dream in one form or another, and attaining it, again and again and again. . . . . . My belief is that the best of us Americans, in this vast country, understand this incredible, vast, realizable potential for ourselves, and for our fellow citizens. The best of us fly under the radar, but continue to make sure that the American Dream continues to flourish. The majority of Americans know that it is a mental game to live a Dream. The majority of Americans, all persevere in our lives and in our beliefs, knowing that the key to realizing the Dream is to “Stick with it. Stick with it. Stick with it . . . .”

Stick with it.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

407. Has anyone ever approached you thinking you were someone else?

To My Friend

I want to tell you about my friend. She’s beautiful and relatively young. She has so much abundance of everything, and yet she’s also quite generous. She is totally eclectic. Her music, fashion, and food choices are all over the map. She finds God through many different paths. My friend isn’t faultless. She has a lot of inner conflict, she’s self-righteous and she often has a hard time slowing down. She loves technology (even of the weaponry bent) and my friend sometimes gets ahead of herself with her inventiveness, before really considering the ramifications of it all. But she’s a leader. My friend is a beacon to many. She’s brilliant, and at her heart, from my friend’s very inception, there has always been a deep, undying dream for mecca/nirvana/heaven for all who walk the earth. And honestly, at her ultimate best, my friend is the closest thing to the mecca/nirvana/heaven dream the world has ever known. Happy Birthday to my beautiful friend America. May you remember your roots today, America. May today be a rebirth of all of what is the best that is in you, with a clear vision of what direction to go towards, so that the greatest of anything which humankind has ever known is yet to be discovered. There is no doubt, that once that direction is found, my friend America will fearlessly light and lead the way.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

A Fourth of July Letter

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Dear United States of America,

Foremost, you are my beautiful country. This weekend I stayed in my own lovely state of Florida and travelled to incredibly, scenic parts of Florida which I have never seen before. I saw so much diversity, in just this one state. Miles and miles of untouched wilderness, gorgeous coastlines, cities and small towns, all with their own flavors and charms and heritage. The diversity in the people matched these beautiful, unique places, and this is in just one small part of 1/50th of this incredible, vast, magnificent land.

USA, I love you. My grandfathers and my father served to keep you free. I married into a patriotic family. My father-in-law made a career in the army. My sister-in-law is one of the first women to graduate from West Point. My husband remembers to always put the flag out on every special day. He always remembers, and I love him for that loyalty and respect that he has always shown to you.

That being said, America, I am angry with you right now. So very angry. I love you and I will always love you. You are my country. But right now, I don’t like you. I don’t like you at all. I don’t like how divisive and angry you have become. I don’t like that you seem to have forgotten the very tenants that you were founded on, such as the separation of church and state. I don’t like how violent and dangerous you have become. America, you are behaving like a spoiled, arrogant, greedy brat. For the first time in my life, as an American woman, I can better empathize with how complicated patriotism and days like the Fourth of July must truly feel to our native, indigenous people and to our black citizens. My heart finally understands a little bit of what hurts these days must bring up to huge swaths of your own sacred citizens.

America, you are in an awkward stage, like an angry, petulant, stubborn, entitled, lazy teenager, hellbent on self-destructing. It’s not a path that you want to stay on. You have a lot of healing and growing and awakening to do, and I hope that you wise up to these facts before there is no turning back. Choose your leaders carefully and soulfully, so that the free world can respect and accept your own leadership once again. Find some humility. Find a path forward that you can be proud of, and that will preserve all of the ideals that so many of your own people gave their lives to keep.

Happy Birthday, America. Please do better. You are capable of being so much more. Dig deep and be what you are meant to be – a beacon of freedom and hope and prosperity and vision and dignity and integrity, for all people to revere.

May this birthday be the day that it all turns towards the light of better days ahead for you my beautiful, beloved country. I truly hope so. Make it so.