The Best and the Worst

I'm not sure when it was that I was freed from corporate America, but as somepoint, it happened.

I'll just come out and say it: US Airways is the worst employer I have ever had. They are a horrible company with horrible service and even worse employee relations.

I won't continue with that particular tirade; this is about my departure from the rat race, not about the unethical existence of a corporation.

The thing is, most of my coworkers (and a large percent of patrons flying US Airways, I'm sure) agree with me, but their need for the cheapest flight or $13.75 an hour, or both, outweigh their unhappiness. I served in the union the way I did because no matter how much I did need that paycheck or the free flight, that need never seemed to justify the sinkhole despair of dealing with that company.

Maybe that was the moment. Or maybe it was when I realized I would face unhappiness every day of my life if it meant I could paint. Or maybe it was when I realized I couldn't paint if I was unhappy. No matter how often I escaped, no matter with whom, those glimpses of freedom just couldn't make up for the dread of having to give my precious time to something so undeserving. And since when was unhappiness worth anything?? Men are that they might have joy, after all.

I made a choice. It wasn't a money driven choice, neither anger. Not logic-driven either to be truthful. I just chose to be happy. And in that choice came my freedom.

An answer to a question

A friend of mine, who has a tendency to be controversial, invited a conversation about a blog he stumbled across written by a member of the LDS faith who has very serious concerns about the practice, policies, and basic doctrines of the Church.  This friend invites many of these conversations, and every issue is a bit different. However, I have found my reaction to all of them is very much the same.

My heart aches for their anger, pain and frustration.

I can't say I have all the answers. In fact, the culture of my chosen faith leaves me struggling--particularly within my chosen fields of study. The humanities in general are not necessarily spiritual, but they are instinctually human, prone to every good characteristic as much as the bad. And with the increasing ability to share everything with everyone, what is best and needful and of utmost delicate nature is not as promoted as something that would sell well. But what I can say is I see your troubled heart and I raise you a testimony.

At the end of the day, your relationship with God is your relationship with God. He is your Father, who knows you. No matter what your family, neighbors, bishop or prophet say or think, no one will know that relationship better than you. God knows when you disagree with a message at General Conference, just as much as He knows your favorite food. And since that is the case, if said "you" has a problem with the way women are treated by the administration of the LDS faith, it is logical to say He knows that as well. And He still loves you.

I'm all for questions, and I'm all for answers...and while I'm not all for blind faith, I do recognize the merit in basic testimonies offered as a place-filler until something more substantial appears.

Once upon a time I did have doubts. I was angry about the culture of my faith. But eventually, I just got tired of it. Not only that, but I found it was easier to enjoy and appreciate smaller things which did not offend me than to wage war on...well, a blanket everything. I'm not 100% solid on everything, like polygamy or church involvement in politics, and I don't have a desire to be. But at this current time, those things are not impeding the decisions I make everyday to maintain peace, balance and order within my spiritual (and thereby everything else included) life. I suppose when they do, I may pick a side and begin to wage war, or I may not. I currently feel that my war-mongering days are behind me. But Mormon felt that way too and it didn't last for him either.

To any of my non-Mormon readers, I appologize if you found this post rather exclusive. While the original discussion is directed to those within the faith, it certainly can be applied to anyone.

To close, a Bloch for good measure.

The first day of my new life

There was a time when I never had any time for anything. Or maybe it's better to say I never had time for everything. I was always running from class to class, zipping through books, putting words on papers, taking them off, putting them back on, clocking in, clocking out, "did you want fries with that?" Pay this bill. There's a meeting at 8:30--the grocery store closes when?? How about next Thursday?

Breathe.

Don't get me wrong. I'm a city girl who loves city life. I like being busy. But I like being busy on my own terms.

There are 24 hours in a day. And somewhere I realized that everyone had the same 24 hours. So when I quit US Airways, I made a promise to myself: this is my time.

I'm not stupid, though I have been accused of being something crazy. Let's be honest for a moment. I did give up the easiest job in the world with the best benefits to come live in the middle-of-nowhere and work at a Cracker Barrel in a town called Springville and paint with a guy who is poorer and crazier than I am.

But as long as we're being honest I may as well add that while I miss my sisters and brother and best friend, and I miss fast trains and crowded sidewalks and gourmet food, doing without them for a year or so will never be something I regret doing. There's no where i'd rather be than right here, right now, living my life, doing the things I want to be doing.

How can I regret choosing to be free?