I don't believe in Wonder Woman or Batgirl. I don't believe in sidekicks. I don't believe in playing second fiddle to anyone, in any capacity, ever. I don't believe in "can't." I don't believe in excuses. I don't believe in jealousy or envy. I don't believe in hypocrisy. I don't believe in cruelty or holding a grudge. I don't believe in elitism, sexism, racism or in any kind of discrimination. I don't believe in apathy or sloth. I don't believe in diets or deprivation. I don't believe in immorality or character defamation. I don't believe in division, among any lines. I don't believe in slander or gossip. I don't believe in assigning blame and I certainly don't believe in any organization, group or business that creates policies that foster inequality on any level.
In death we are all equal; there are no color lines, nor are there factors that make us feel as though we are "less." In death, we all face the unknown, the uncertain; we become vulnerable to the "what if?" In death, you take my hand and I take yours and we walk into the beyond as one, as equals. We are the same. Why then do we not do this while we live? Why do you not take my hand and tell me, with your eyes and with your heart and with your friendship and love, that we are the same.
I believe in truth and hope. I believe in goodness and kindness and joy. I believe in young people. I believe in God. I believe in growth and movement. I believe that chocolate and red wine should be consumed every day, if not twice a day. I believe that many people die too soon because they don't have someone to touch them, hug them, hold their hands. I believe in stories, in books, in art, in music. I believe in protesting and standing up for your rights. I believe in education and the idea that the acquisition of knowledge is a shared endeavor between teachers and students. I believe that kissing a baby, even one that is not your own, heals you in some way. I believe that at least once in your life, you should have the opportunity to feel as though you are standing just a bit taller than every other human being on the planet, even if it is just for a second. I believe in traditions and spirituality. I believe in smoking pot once in awhile and I certainly believe that more sex is not only called for, but necessary, for everyone who wants it. I believe that words are power and freedom and strength.
I have a quasi-addiction to people; I tend to hold on to them, whether they want me to or not. I have an innate need to know about them and once I do, I decide whether or not they will contribute some value to my life. If I feel that they do, then they become a permanent piece of my consciousness. And even if I have no continued contact or correspondence with them, they remain a part of that energy that makes up my mind and my soul. If I feel that they will do nothing but destroy and tear at the fabric that makes me who I am, then I cut off contact, but, maybe ironically, they also stay with me. Sometimes it's as this kind of idea, as something that I could have fixed or as if they were a part of this hypothetical situation which I was also a part of and in which we just couldn't seem to come to an agreement. So we parted ways. I feed off of other people's stories, off of what makes them human, what makes them hurt, what makes them happy, what motivates them to do what they do. As a result of this, I have been able to create for myself a 42 year old tapestry that is colorful yet frayed; one that hangs on a neverending wall. It is a scene that began to take shape many years ago and is just now becoming visible. The Fates are weaving my story as it happens, not before...
If the three sisters let me sit at the loom for a moment, there is much that I would add. There is so much that I would add. 42 years gone, yet how many more to go?
I would like to live many lives. Maybe that is possible; I don't know. If it is, I hope that I learn something, that I have learned something from previous experience and I wish to keep growing, to keep evolving, to keep hoping that life will continue. I would like to tell every person who is in my life even for the briefest time, that they are there for a reason; that our paths have crossed for some greater purpose. I would like for those in my life to know how important they are to me, even if I fail to visit often enough, or to send birthday cards or to call when I say I will. I would like to think that they know. I would like that, but then I turn and five years has passed and I realize that maybe they didn't know that. Maybe I should have said it, and maybe I should have showed up and maybe they need me to call. And then I vow to try harder. And sometimes I succeed. And, sometimes I fail miserably.
I don't often react to situations and events immediately; I am not prone to bursting into tears or grabbing someone and sobbing heartbrokenly. I will sometimes sit for months and think about a person or an event and it is only when I have some distance and some time that I can really internalize it or them and then I react. I have found myself curled up in the fetal position on my kitchen floor a year after a friend has passed or a pet went missing. I just recently found myself weeping as I washed the dishes, thinking about the diagnosis of cancer in a friend that happened over a year ago. I'm not at all sure about why there is this delayed reaction. And sometimes, often, my reactions come out in words, in writing, in a kind of subtletly that doesn't always seem appropriate to the situation. More often than not I don't cry at funerals. Maybe it's like that for a lot of people. I just find that I have to react in my own time, in my own way and then I have to try to figure out how to take that information and make something better, something positive out of it. Maybe it is my coping mechanism. Maybe it is my defense mechanism. Maybe it is what I hate the most, maybe it is an excuse to not have to own those feelings.
I believe that for every moment that I'm given, I am under an obligation to live that moment to the fullest, whether that be in sadness or in joy and that I am obliged to live my life as an example of what it is I stand for, as an example of what I believe. And that when people meet me, when they get to know me, they will know what those things are that I hold the most dear.
When I was a teenager, I used to keep a diary. I used to think a lot about what I was going to do with my life and I felt, I sincerely felt that I was supposed to do something. I didn't know what it was and frankly, I still don't know what it is. But I feel very deeply that, like all of us, I have a distinct purpose in this lifetime and it is my responsibility to figure out what that is and to then fulfill it. It may take my whole life or multiple lifetimes to figure it out, but there is a deep seeded need in me to find it. It doesn't make me anything, not better, not less than anyone else; it just makes my journey worth living. And I plan on living every single day of this journey with as much zeal and hope and fortitude and strength and every other adjective that is a synonym for energy, that I can. And I hope that every person who crosses my path senses it and that they know that I am here, even in those moments that I fail: to write, to visit, to meet for coffee. I will be here when it matters the most. And I will remember you and I will feel your pain and I will carry it with me. I will carry you with me, always.
Is it possible to love someone into healing? Is it possible to smile them into remission? Is it possible to hug them into success? I don't know; all I know is I sure would like to try. I sure would like to try.
Superheroes? No, don't believe in them. Miracles? Absolutely. Look around you; they are happening every single minute of every single day. Be one, share one, give one. My three are upstairs sleeping. They are my greatest gift and my most worthwhile adventure and all I ever want is to be someone who they can be proud to call their mother. I continue to try.
A former student passed away last week and she was on my mind while I wrote this. I hope that her children remember all that was wonderful about her. I hope that their lives continue on in the light of what she created for them and that this tragedy doesn't devastate who she would have wanted them to be. I hope that her legacy lives on in them, in all that was the very best of who she was. I hope that she is at peace.
Live, don't just exist. And don't wait for Superman to come along and save you. He might be waylaid... make it happen for yourself. Make it happen for all of us.
For Daisy Viera.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Fundraising...
You think it's tough when people ask you for money? You think it's burdensome and tiring to have to hear the why's and the where's and the what for's? You think it's a hassle to have to write yet ANOTHER check to some charity that you would never support or might not even consider giving money to because you are going to Nordstrom Rack this weekend? You know what I have to say to all those questions, you know what the answer is... FUCK YOU and your excuses. Harsh, maybe, necessary, probably, warranted, most definitely...
It is with the deepest sincerity that I have accepted and been given donations from friends and family members during the course of the last 3 marathons that I have run; APLA in Los Angeles, UNICEF and Autism Speaks in New York and now, once more for APLA in Los Angeles. I was moved and thankful (still am) by the support that people have shown to me and to the causes that I represented in these various races. I will be forever indebted to everyone who sent well wishes and who gave funds especially now when it is one of the most difficult times in the history of our economy. Again, I sincerely appreciate the kindness that was shown. And, that is the reason why I am having a hard time swallowing the responses that I have gotten of late in terms of asking again for help and for donations. As I sit here, exasperated and exhausted, I am considering what might be the driving force behind people's lack of enthusiasm for donating this time around, besides the fact that money is tight. That goes without saying. So, walk with me as I ponder the factors and then... well, we'll see and then.
I accept the fact that people, the same people are tired of me asking. I accept the fact that frankly,they are probably just tired of me. I accept the fact that the marathon running thing has lost its lustre. I mean, she's done 3, how many more does she need to do? I accept the fact that there are other charities and organizations that people support and that I am not the only person asking for money; hell, I'm probably one of 20 who asked this month alone and, if your kids go to public school,then the checkbook is fringed with ash from burning through that money. I accept the fact that many people just don't like me and that's okay too. I mean I can be a real first rate bitch sometimes and often to the people who I love the most. I accept the fact that people just don't care and that they wear their apathy like a baby seal fur coat: blatantly obvious and simultaneously ridiculous. I accept the fact that the holidays just passed and we spent alot of money and yada, yada, yada... Yeah well, I'll remember that the next time you want me to support your kid's team or your business or to buy Girl Scout Cookies. I'll remember that the next time I see you holding a $5 cup of coffee or wearing a pair of Jimmy Choo's. Look, I have no problem with people spending their money however they see fit and I do not have access to their tax returns and subsequently the information regarding their donations to non-profit organizations throughout the year. I realize that I am being judgemental. I KNOW THAT. That's the whole fucking point.
Nothing gets done without persistence and effort and time and sometimes, well, Joe Pesci. Maybe I just need to threaten to put people's heads in individual vices and then... okay, sort of a violent image there, but frustration often leads to violence and if you know me well, you know I'm not above bringing a tire iron to your house to collect that cash. Just try me.
I know it's hard to give money, especially when you think you don't have it. But the point is, every single person who I ask does have it. No, they might not have $50 or $25 or even $10 so they give nothing. This too is a point that I make frequently, if instead of 20 people giving nothing, how about 20 people giving $5? Look how quickly that adds up! I know that some people are thinking, well, what if my name shows up and I only gave $5? That's going to look bad or that's not enough. Then give MORE dammit, simple solution. No, really, donations can be completely anonymous and more importantly, the smallest amounts do matter! For $7 UNICEF can provide clean drinking water for 2 people for a month! And for $12 you can buy a bag of groceries for someone living with HIV/AIDS. Think about that. No, really, think about that.
I really like funerals of people who have lived a full life. It's never pleasant and it's very difficult when a child dies or someone is cut down early or someone suffered verily before his/her death. But when you are celebrating a person's life,someone who loved life and who demonstrated a passion for things and for people, it can be quite something to witness. And while I have loved listening to many eulogies; one in particular in which a daughter eulogized her father, was probably the most wonderful tribute by one human being to another that I've ever heard or read, I have a problem when I hear people say, "I wish that we could have done more" or "I should have tried harder to help him" or "My life won't be the same without her." The problem is exacerbated by the issue that stems from the notion that all of these statements could readily be avoided if YOU DO SOMETHING RIGHT NOW instead of waiting until the person is no longer there. Hug them now, visit them now, make them a sandwich, have sex with them, buy them a puppy, whatever. My problem is with people who wait for the opportune moment to act and then they are shocked when they didn't recognize that it was floating right past them at the same moment when they were waiting. I want my eulogy delivered by one of my sons or by all three and all I want them to say is this, "She cared enough to try to make a difference in the world." That's it. That's enough.
Look, this diatribe is not going to win me any popularity contests but I don't give a flying fuck about any of that. What I care about is you and the people around you and more than that, the people around all of us who need our help. Children, families, brothers, parents, neighbors. Children are dying daily from diseases that could be prevented by simply providing them with clean water. People are living on the streets, living with HIV, trying to find a reason to live. Parents are trying to figure out how to carve out lives for their children with Autism while they hold one another and try to stay strong in the never ending journey ahead. Yes people die every day and so will you and so will I. But we have a chance to decide how the course will lay itself out for people who we will never meet; we have the opportunity of a lifetime to create hope in places where it doesn't exist. We have an obligation to pass on the joy of giving to our families through our united efforts and through the sweat, tears and yes, finances that we share.
This really is not about me. It has very little to do with me. If I don't raise the $800 by January 20th, I will write a check for that amount to APLA and then I will run, regardless of how the money is raised. And I don't have it. I don't have $800. I don't have $25. But you know what, I'll figure it out. Because APLA does the kind of work that will change the course of our history; we might not see it in our lifetimes, but we will have been a part of an organization that mattered, to people, to the planet and to life. I have been extraordinarily proud to have been a small cog in the giant wheel that is the group of special and innovative people who make up this fabulous charity. And I hope that you know, that you feel, that you are a part of it too. When you donate ANYTHING and when you come out and offer your support and when you make that extra effort, you do make a difference. You are the difference.
I feel better now. Venting does wonders for the mood elevators; it sends them right through the roof. I look around my house and I think of my formal education and I hear my children yelling and laughing upstairs as they get ready for bed and I think, I am very lucky and I am blessed and I have worked hard. And I just want what you want, what we all want, what we all want... children in the Sudan and children with Autism and men, women and children living with HIV and AIDS, we want dignity and respect and we want life. We want to live.
I am not above begging and I am certainly not above asking for the 1000th time because tomorrow it will be the 1001st, please, please make a donation. Don't even think about me, again, it has nothing to do with me. But it has everything to do with YOU!
A new year, A new start, A new chance to change someones life. Does it really get much better than that? http://apla.convio.net/goto/yvettehawley
Thank You...
It is with the deepest sincerity that I have accepted and been given donations from friends and family members during the course of the last 3 marathons that I have run; APLA in Los Angeles, UNICEF and Autism Speaks in New York and now, once more for APLA in Los Angeles. I was moved and thankful (still am) by the support that people have shown to me and to the causes that I represented in these various races. I will be forever indebted to everyone who sent well wishes and who gave funds especially now when it is one of the most difficult times in the history of our economy. Again, I sincerely appreciate the kindness that was shown. And, that is the reason why I am having a hard time swallowing the responses that I have gotten of late in terms of asking again for help and for donations. As I sit here, exasperated and exhausted, I am considering what might be the driving force behind people's lack of enthusiasm for donating this time around, besides the fact that money is tight. That goes without saying. So, walk with me as I ponder the factors and then... well, we'll see and then.
I accept the fact that people, the same people are tired of me asking. I accept the fact that frankly,they are probably just tired of me. I accept the fact that the marathon running thing has lost its lustre. I mean, she's done 3, how many more does she need to do? I accept the fact that there are other charities and organizations that people support and that I am not the only person asking for money; hell, I'm probably one of 20 who asked this month alone and, if your kids go to public school,then the checkbook is fringed with ash from burning through that money. I accept the fact that many people just don't like me and that's okay too. I mean I can be a real first rate bitch sometimes and often to the people who I love the most. I accept the fact that people just don't care and that they wear their apathy like a baby seal fur coat: blatantly obvious and simultaneously ridiculous. I accept the fact that the holidays just passed and we spent alot of money and yada, yada, yada... Yeah well, I'll remember that the next time you want me to support your kid's team or your business or to buy Girl Scout Cookies. I'll remember that the next time I see you holding a $5 cup of coffee or wearing a pair of Jimmy Choo's. Look, I have no problem with people spending their money however they see fit and I do not have access to their tax returns and subsequently the information regarding their donations to non-profit organizations throughout the year. I realize that I am being judgemental. I KNOW THAT. That's the whole fucking point.
Nothing gets done without persistence and effort and time and sometimes, well, Joe Pesci. Maybe I just need to threaten to put people's heads in individual vices and then... okay, sort of a violent image there, but frustration often leads to violence and if you know me well, you know I'm not above bringing a tire iron to your house to collect that cash. Just try me.
I know it's hard to give money, especially when you think you don't have it. But the point is, every single person who I ask does have it. No, they might not have $50 or $25 or even $10 so they give nothing. This too is a point that I make frequently, if instead of 20 people giving nothing, how about 20 people giving $5? Look how quickly that adds up! I know that some people are thinking, well, what if my name shows up and I only gave $5? That's going to look bad or that's not enough. Then give MORE dammit, simple solution. No, really, donations can be completely anonymous and more importantly, the smallest amounts do matter! For $7 UNICEF can provide clean drinking water for 2 people for a month! And for $12 you can buy a bag of groceries for someone living with HIV/AIDS. Think about that. No, really, think about that.
I really like funerals of people who have lived a full life. It's never pleasant and it's very difficult when a child dies or someone is cut down early or someone suffered verily before his/her death. But when you are celebrating a person's life,someone who loved life and who demonstrated a passion for things and for people, it can be quite something to witness. And while I have loved listening to many eulogies; one in particular in which a daughter eulogized her father, was probably the most wonderful tribute by one human being to another that I've ever heard or read, I have a problem when I hear people say, "I wish that we could have done more" or "I should have tried harder to help him" or "My life won't be the same without her." The problem is exacerbated by the issue that stems from the notion that all of these statements could readily be avoided if YOU DO SOMETHING RIGHT NOW instead of waiting until the person is no longer there. Hug them now, visit them now, make them a sandwich, have sex with them, buy them a puppy, whatever. My problem is with people who wait for the opportune moment to act and then they are shocked when they didn't recognize that it was floating right past them at the same moment when they were waiting. I want my eulogy delivered by one of my sons or by all three and all I want them to say is this, "She cared enough to try to make a difference in the world." That's it. That's enough.
Look, this diatribe is not going to win me any popularity contests but I don't give a flying fuck about any of that. What I care about is you and the people around you and more than that, the people around all of us who need our help. Children, families, brothers, parents, neighbors. Children are dying daily from diseases that could be prevented by simply providing them with clean water. People are living on the streets, living with HIV, trying to find a reason to live. Parents are trying to figure out how to carve out lives for their children with Autism while they hold one another and try to stay strong in the never ending journey ahead. Yes people die every day and so will you and so will I. But we have a chance to decide how the course will lay itself out for people who we will never meet; we have the opportunity of a lifetime to create hope in places where it doesn't exist. We have an obligation to pass on the joy of giving to our families through our united efforts and through the sweat, tears and yes, finances that we share.
This really is not about me. It has very little to do with me. If I don't raise the $800 by January 20th, I will write a check for that amount to APLA and then I will run, regardless of how the money is raised. And I don't have it. I don't have $800. I don't have $25. But you know what, I'll figure it out. Because APLA does the kind of work that will change the course of our history; we might not see it in our lifetimes, but we will have been a part of an organization that mattered, to people, to the planet and to life. I have been extraordinarily proud to have been a small cog in the giant wheel that is the group of special and innovative people who make up this fabulous charity. And I hope that you know, that you feel, that you are a part of it too. When you donate ANYTHING and when you come out and offer your support and when you make that extra effort, you do make a difference. You are the difference.
I feel better now. Venting does wonders for the mood elevators; it sends them right through the roof. I look around my house and I think of my formal education and I hear my children yelling and laughing upstairs as they get ready for bed and I think, I am very lucky and I am blessed and I have worked hard. And I just want what you want, what we all want, what we all want... children in the Sudan and children with Autism and men, women and children living with HIV and AIDS, we want dignity and respect and we want life. We want to live.
I am not above begging and I am certainly not above asking for the 1000th time because tomorrow it will be the 1001st, please, please make a donation. Don't even think about me, again, it has nothing to do with me. But it has everything to do with YOU!
A new year, A new start, A new chance to change someones life. Does it really get much better than that? http://apla.convio.net/goto/yvettehawley
Thank You...
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