What IS An Intangible Battle?

Silence... not moving, or making a decision is still a decision.

The worst of it is over, and I accept and understand each failure I made as I completed my final senior thesis for a B.A. degree. It took over three years, four if you include the year of me struggling to develop some semblance of a workable plan.

The depression was obvious. It would creep into my day, drowning me in loneliness until I had to replenish the tears with alcohol. Then that stretched into questionable nightly habits, desperately clinging on to comedy shows that alleviated the pain that cut into me. That pain morphed into my body, causing odd bathroom breaks with occasional blood and farts that would make a manly man blush. What was first my mental struggle had become a full-blown physical attack.

After the abuse from horrible eating and drinking habits, I finally took action in August to determine just why the blood keeps coming. Hemorrhoids could not be the only culprit, how can they burst so often, even if I do go on good stretches of exercise? What has not helped is the last bond of straining to restrain my body in a chair as I stare at a screen, hoping for the last of a paper to finalize in the appropriate time frame.

Then just a few days ago, I sealed the coffin with the last nail. After having a quick swim and breakfast, I jumped into cleaning up a rough presentation. Down to the wire, I was willing to offer the first (and only draft) of my paper to my professors for their discerning eyes. The moment the papers left my hands, a bit more control rushed into me.

Just as I have been taking responsibility for what I now acknowledge as ADHD; as I have accepted and mending a bacterial overgrowth of the small intestine; as I have countered my depression and anxiety with vigilant meditation and reflection; as I have accepted my weakness for excess of placebos for happiness, I accept the failures and mishaps that I would not have experienced otherwise. I would not have been inspired to discover that Playback Theater was a perfect place for me to internship with. If it were not for the thesis process, I would not have received my first ever rejection letter from a magazine editor. If it was not for my misguided hope to write a musical based on a famous singer-song writer, I would not have had the chance to talk to a professional in the music label industry.

There were plenty of chances for me to fall back into old habits. I even fell into temptation a few times. There was the occasional day of overeating, but I had to be careful what I ate in case my bowels decided to act up. Irrational shopping was eventually reversed by admitting my weakness and making a mindful plan to detract the power of it. Then twice last week, I had a drink.

Last Sunday was the worst. Instead of an intangible battle, it was an intangible war. Going to a wedding for an old childhood friend was overwhelming. Anxiety froze me into place, depression rattled my body with a malaise, my ADHD threading strings of lucid awareness and hyper-awareness into the outdoor ceremony. There was no chance I could take any of my medications early, it wasn't time yet. In such an important event, it would be difficult to go off and exercise the stress out. Most of all, any sense of logic was under full attack from the hurricane of emotions that it was difficult to see the center of the storm.

Okay so it wasn't a drink. There were several... maybe seven? That emotional response provided me a chance to boldly approach an old best friend who I had not talked to in a long time. But after that night I regretted all the drinking. Despite that guilt, that did not stop me from having a glass of port the night before my thesis presentation.

That will be the last time college will induce me into drinking. My liver has suffered abuse that was meant for the brain, and my thoughts have managed to catch up to logic. Intangible battles are mental and emotional responses to intense, difficult situations. The pain that was recorded internally became so unbearable that physical abuse was necessary to nullify the maddening thoughts and rambling emotions.

Handing a paper over, feeling my bags lighten from the absence of that package has helped. The steps I have taken recently reinforces the strength that has taken several years to rebuild. The mirage of perfection that I had been chasing has dissipated, revealing a starkly color world that I have somehow failed to notice for several years. For a change I can see the world for what it is... not what I want to see, or how others would want me to see it.

People will judge me for being unemployed and just get over myself. Others will judge me for still living with my parents and that I should carry my own weight. Some think I am whining and don't know just how good I have it and shouldn't throw away what good I have now.

They know hardly anything about me. I know hardly anything about them. We have no idea just how many thoughts run through our brains all the time. Everyone has their own inner battles. May it be a battle for inner peace, quietness, balance, faith, God, Goddess, Spaghetti Monster, Cathulu, or Universe... Our minds are fluid, thoughts and opinions ever changing. We are hardly ever the same person, even from a minute ago. Intangible battles are the changing tides of the mind, and this is a spiritual or holistic transformation that we all inevitably face.

Putting Out the Bra-Burning Myth: The Current Faces of Feminism

Behind doors, no one even dares to whisper the F word. What used to be a call for women liberation and struggle for rights, is now a dirty word. Some imagine bra bonfires, while others hear demands for equality that they believe women can not handle. Feminism has changed over the years, and has evolved into a mixed bag of men and women. It is active today in our daily lives, but is being fought over by different fractions.

1. The Lovers. This is the feminist stereotype: a  Lady Godiva walking through town to dump her Lord to meet her Sappho lover. There was a point in time where a few feminists believed so strongly that women did not need men that they actively pursued female relationships despite their orientation. This fraction still exists, but marginally so.
2. The Sisters. Another woman-only group, yet this is a supportive community. It provides a safe space for women who need help. It is a talking group, and participates in events that empower the individual. They are cordial to men, but prefer to have their own space. Sometimes they pair up with the Brotherhood.
3. The Brotherhood. This is the man gendered group of feminists. Made up of multi-gendered men and of several sexual orientations, they sympathize with the Sisters. Commonly they get involved in events with women's supervision, sometimes copying their actions. Other times, they stand by and act as cheerleaders.
4. The Partners. This group has no restrictions in membership. This face of feminism looks for a balanced approach. It sees men and women as equals, but with different abilities. They pointedly make the effort to communicate and find solutions between the genders.
5. The Humanists. Humanists have their own established world view. They are concerned with global issues, which sometimes included feminist events. These people are open-minded, and do not necessarily have to have an opinion about the importance of men and women. This is a logically, fact-orientated group.
6. The Unknowing. Thanks to several events from the feminist movement, there are several liberties that permeate into current society. Every so often someone on the news will say, "I am not a feminist, but..." These people are afraid to call themselves a feminist either because they live in an environment that mocks the movement, or that the individual believes that feminists are more like the lovers.

We do not have to be afraid of feminism anymore. There are plenty of people who believe in the theory. It just becomes a question of what do you need in a community.

Generation Y Fail? (Summer 2012)

The greatest journeys have the humblest beginnings.

Who We Are

My name is Reese "Pen" Holmes, and I do not accept the status quo. I'm what they call a "rebel with a cause", quite bohemian in nature. I am a storyteller, an artist, and the wisest fool you'll ever meet. You can read my personal journal here.

And my name is Sarah Clark, a.k.a. Carmen Morgan, and I am a passionate performer. My trinity of values are love, music, and truth. I try to encompass these in everything I do. You can see my other blog here.

This is the tale of two modern day adventurers, seeking inspiration and to make ourselves out in this world. We wish to capture truth and to lend a helping hand to those who need it most.

What We Do


Why is generation Y so damn apathetic? We confuse passion for obsession, a weakness. We tease those with their hearts on their sleeves and admire those with hearts of stone. But our hearts are supposed to bleed when stabbed. A heart of stone cannot bleed, nor can it pitter-patter in excitement. A heart should soar like a bird. When made of stone, it sinks into the Mariana Trench.

Obsession and passion are not one in the same. We are told by our peers that it is weird to read a book 9 times or to closely follow our favorite musician. We're called "crazy fans, fan-girls/boys", obsessive, and we're teased mercilessly. If we want to do something with our lives that's not "normal", or worth something obvious to others, like money or a certificate, our ideas are condemned. If we do not walk the narrow path of acceptance, we feel great pain. The dreamers are often unsupported.

When we tear each other down for free thinking, those dreams go into hiding. They become regrets. Dreamers escape to a world of fantasy because they cannot enact their dreams in reality. So many generation Y are stuck unfulfilled, forced onto narrow paths, and worse yet, with little financial or familial backing. Generation Y is experiencing one of the worst world wide unemployment epidemics in history. Young college graduates cannot find work, and entrepreneurs without finances are subjected to supporting the dreams of a big corporation.

So please remember this:

An obsession disrupts your life. A passion enriches your life.

Looking For Answers

The question remains to be found, yet I keep expecting some sort of progress in my life. The sorts of adventures I crave are so antiquated that I feel a bit misplaced. One cannot simply up and leave. And jobs are so prescribed and... predictable nowadays that I am not surprised by the vast amounts of materialism.

Mankind has begun to lend itself and sell its freedom to the sweet temptation of safety. The few who rule this brave new world take pleasure in this co-dependency. The more that mankind isolates itself in items and imaginary worlds, the quicker it allows itself to die and create its own extinction.

It is time for a new era; it has been proclaimed by ancients and those who keep their ear to the heartbeat of existence.

Indeed, mankind is at it's rope's end. If outside forces do not remove it, surely it will implode upon itself.

What this new race will be, I do not know. Womankind, childrenkind, primate-kind... it is up for grabs. It is the time for change and outrage. It is the time for passion, not extremism. Intelligence needs to be celebrated once more, and experience to be honored. The greatest battles are going to be against ignorance and indifference.

These walls that have been built up must come down. Petty battles are being fought across the nation, and every detail being observed microscopically. For every habit we hoard, there is yet another weight added onto our personal paths to enlightenment. All institutions are inhabited by many people who claim that they are the ones who are right. Science is pitted against art and religion, though all of them can work completely in tandem. Education and politics can be balanced if one so desires it. The rich and poor can collaborate: if the two never merged how else would we have the poignant and inspired stories of some of the greatest members of society (Dr. King Jr., Princess Diane, Gandhi, Mother Teresa) and religious guides?

We do have a great amount of power, but we fail to recognize it. I remember visiting a director of a shelter in Washington C.D. He told my classmates and I that everyone has the potential to do great things; but if we misuse this potential, we do the greatest disservice. In his eyes, to be lazy and depressed was a selfish infliction on yourself. Admittedly, I think that depression has more roots than selfishness. Yet, in my own phases of depression I have recognized that most of my own suffering came from my own hands.

In the light of my own self-determination and less agitated consciousness, I realize what this reality lacks. This world is far too broad and too fragile to waste away in sweat-stained rags and sterilized worlds. We have turned ourselves into experimental creatures, manipulated by businesses and politicians. True freedom is gained by worldly adventures and personal responsibility.

Refuse to be imprisoned by this so-called "free market".

Demand for your rights, and those of your neighbors, for once theirs start to disappear, yours will quickly follow.

Penetrate into the secret societies that rape our abilities and skills with weapons of abusive power and humiliation.

Retaliate with passive-aggressive techniques when these entities attack, and progress with swift motion and unity when they are scattered. When they are still, remain patient and study them: take advantage of their weaknesses.

Fortify your position with allies, using compromise as a means to establish a cohesive unity against dirt and infestation.

Propel yourself above the safe and minimal standards that society has developed; greatness is gained from experience, not from the money earned or inherited from a long line of a family name.

And finally,

Liberate yourself and others from the crippling habit of ignorance and aggression by providing actively growing knowledge and gradually developed peaceful wisdom.

Contemplate these statements and find what truths lie within you, and then learn the best course of action that you can apply to your own life.

Critical Drinking - A Reflection

There are those who drink for fun and to express themselves, but there will always be the students who drink endlessly. These are the students who fruitlessly drink to fill the hole that rests inside them. Go into the bar and see what types of customers appear. In the corner is the gaggle of girls doing shots. At a table a couple is enjoying their beer, talking animatedly. Then there is the one on the corner of the counter, slowly enjoying their beverage.

               

 During college I saw, and experienced, both worlds. My friends and I would make our way out of the Healthy Lifestyles floor, and settle into one of the seedier dorms. Drinks would be evenly distributed, and each of us would keep an eye on the other. Even when a close friend hosted a wine party, there was a sense of organization and safety. We were surprisingly responsible, for the drinking college stereotype. So what would fuel the drinking that the media likes to explore? Perhaps it is time to look closer at college students lives.

There was always a tradition of seniors drinking on the first day of classes for celebration. The image of a senior was one hand with a pen, the other with their drinking mug. Stress was so overwhelming for the thesising students that it was accepted, even supported, that they would go drinking. Often the seniors would say how they were going to treat themselves to a drink or several after they reached a certain goal. Drinking was a group activity, and the most relaxing way to distress besides taking other drugs.

Yet for every day that there is a party on campus, there is at least one student who is sitting by themselves with a bottle. As the workaholic seniors focus intensely on their work -abstaining from friends or the pursuit of friendships- they become isolated. Each student has to rely on their own abilities to get through the day. But since some students have never been so overwhelmed, they have poor coping skills (if any at all). That single senior tries to always have a drinking group ready, but will always have something in their room in case there are no groups to join for the night. So they are left alone, with their drinks. Even if the campus is dry, the student will find a way to acquire the needed drug.

Alcoholism and addiction can be enhanced by genetics, but the students need to be taught good habits before they reach critical mass during college. I remember feeling so overwhelmed by thesising, personal issues, dirty politics, mass abandonment, and damaged self-esteem that I tried to drown the pain with numbing salve. Each day was a struggle to exist, to muscle up the façade that would get me through the day. I would hear stories of others drinking unthinkingly, somehow enjoying the evening and letting go of stress. All that I knew, and remember, was a costly journey into long nights and sunrises, hearing the life around me wake up as I fell asleep. When colleges take the time to address the needs of the students, then we may be able to eliminate the need to drink and reduce the amount of alcoholic incidents on campuses.