The Everyday Human

Who’s Driving This Thing?

July: On Family July 6 As you grow, as seeds of independent thought and choice sprout in your mind, and as you are able to shelter and feed yourself, things inevitably change. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. Again—neither good nor bad, just life. And as you meet people who show you different perspectives and teach you different ways of life, your heart opens up to the fact that should you desire to, or for your own health and well-being, should you need to—you have the ability to create a new family of your own. This can be through friends, partners, lingering artifacts from the family you were born into—it can be a beautiful collage of existing relationships or it can be a painting on a blank canvas that you sat down to paint without even knowing how to hold a brush. And this family, whether you were born into it or created it—should and must give you hope. Though you were brought here helpless and at the whims of fate, just remember there comes a time when you will have the power to push fate aside and take the reins. * Reflection title: Who’s Driving This Thing? * Creative inspiration:  Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin * Reflection Question: Am I helpless and at the whims of fate when it comes to my family? Or am I in control of my own life?

Search and Find

July: On Family July 5 I’ve been fortunate enough to travel the world. I’ve been to around 15-20 different countries (lost track). I’ve met fascinating people from four different continents, and I’ll always remember them and the people I traveled with. But without fail, every time I’m away, and as much as I’m busy appreciating the different people, landscapes, architecture, food, music, and cultures, I think of home. And a part of me longs to be back there with those who make it a home. I’m lucky for that, I know it. Going on a journey does this to you. If you’re fortunate enough to have a safe and welcoming home and family, it reminds you of what you have—that there will always be people there waiting to welcome you back. If you don’t have that—the journey’s purpose is to help you find it (and if you are in search of one, I hope you do). Travel if you can—it doesn’t have to be a trip around the world, but just get away from home for a little while. Get away from the routine and the day-to-day. Take a journey and let it change you in big or small ways. Travel miles and miles and miles in search of what you need if you must, but then return home to find it. * Reflection title: Search and Find * Creative inspiration:  George Augustus Moore, The Brook Kerith * Reflection Question: Am I searching for something outside of my home and family? What is it I need? And what do I have here, right in front of me that makes me whole or not whole?

The Gods Will Fall

July: On Family July 4 I blink. No way. Is that really my dad? Is that really what I think it is in his hand? The thing they’ve taught me never to do—the thing that just killed my grandma down in Florida? No fucking way. But it’s true. There he is, right in front of my eyes, just laughing and sipping and puffing away. I run up to him, ask him what he’s doing—he says something, but I don’t know what he’s saying. Doesn’t really matter, and I ball my hands into fists and start hitting him in the legs before I run out the door into the dark night, looking for . . . what? I haven’t the slightest. But the glass shatters. The veneer peels. The god falls. I turn to see if he’s following me out the door—maybe I’m not looking for anything or anyone else, maybe I just want him to drop the bottle and the butt and follow after me, telling me it’s not what I think, that he was just holding it for a friend. But he doesn’t look back—eyes on the blonde lady, laughing, smoking, drinking. And I begin to wonder what else he does when he thinks I’m not looking, or when I’m not around. This godlike figure who can do no wrong . . . apparently can. Years later, I’ll know it was just a cigarette, but I’ll also know that horrible infections can start with a small scratch, and that one tiny nibble from the wrong bug can kill a great and tall tree. And as I stand there in the dark, I may not realize it right away . . . but from that day on, I’ll never look at my father the same way again. * Reflection title: The Gods Will Fall * Creative inspiration: John Steinbeck, East of Eden * Reflection Question: Knowing that neither I or my family are perfect—that we are all fallible humans—what will I do with that knowledge? Can I still forgive, even when the veneer has been stripped and the glass has been shattered and the god has fallen?

Remember Where You Came From

July: On Family July 3 Jobs, social status, privilege—all this too can change a person, and it often does. It can lead to an emotionally shallow family dynamic. It can make actions that once were filled with joy and intention become absurdly performative—like ticking off a box on a checklist. Don’t save genuine feelings or forgiveness for a fancy meal, or trip, or holiday—try to remember the times when you relied on each other. When you loved each other. Before all that other stuff came in and got in the way. If it doesn’t work out—and it might not—that’s okay. That’s life, remember? But at the very least, you can say you tried. * Reflection title: Remember Where You Came From * Creative inspiration: Oscar Wilde, A Woman of No Importance * Reflection Question: Have I lost the thread of family? When was the last time I was genuine and true with my family?

Go Ahead, Get Idealistic

July: On Family July 2 I don’t know if it will ever happen. And whatever—I don’t care if it’s idealistic to hope for it. I’m a writer. Part of my job is to literally dream up better worlds (after putting my characters through hell, so it goes). But if we can begin to see ourselves as a family—doesn’t have to be a perfect one either, all families have their issues, but one bound together by something greater—then maybe the distance between us won’t seem so far and things will change for the better. And not in some heaven-like utopian way, but in the small, everyday moments where empathy replaces fear, and kindness and understanding replace anger and ignorance.  Families offer hope . . . and since we’re all one big human family, well, here’s to hoping. * Reflection title: Go Ahead, Get Idealistic * Creative inspiration: Mary Oliver, "At the River Clarion" * Reflection Question: How do I treat my extended human family? Do I see them as others? Or as brothers and sisters?