Tag: Inclusion

Until You Walk in Someone Else’s Shoes

I was fortunate to be brought into this world by two non-conformists. My mother, the self-proclaimed black sheep of her family, and my free spirited, laisse-faire father and his judgement-free ways shared in the catalyst that formed the lens through which I see the world.

As a kid, my mother had the innate ability to steer a rudderless ship. Even with her eyes closed.

Her guidance provided the perfectly blended combination of suggestive influence and necessary discipline. I presented many challenges yet with the same honor and grace, she helped me find my way.

There is a fine balance between overbearing influence resulting in rebellion, and the subtlety of firm support that steers one down their own path. It was a guided path I felt like I found on my own.

Pure brilliance.

Most certainly a rebuff to his communist roots, my father was the epitome of a non-conformist.  He chose a life free of all encumberments – clothes, rules and boundaries among them.

When he moved to Venice, California in the 1970’s the atmosphere, community and countless wayward souls perfectly suited his non-conformist ways. If the antithesis of communist Hungary existed, it was the melting pot in Venice, CA.

My parents blended influence, both in commonality and difference, shaped my attitudes about the values of non-conformity, individuality, inclusion, compassion, respect, and kindness. Collectively, they paved the path to my open minded inclusive ways.

I’m not sure the exact moment in time I fully understood and appreciated the value of their example, I certainly lived it before I knew there was value to be found.

Growing up I didn’t know people thought differently. Our summers on Venice Beach leveled the playing field. So many layers of inequality seemingly equal.

If we are all clones of each other, it would truly suck being bombarded by mirror images all day, every day.

Surely, we agree on that.

Social media, the sensationalized news, and the will of the closed minded jeopardize the value of our collective uniqueness. It is difficult to move about the planet without feeling jaded or apathetic or indifferent when the distant purview = the same old shit.

But, if something has value, it is not an endless resource or the same old shit. Its significance doesn’t dilute rather represents a position or vision of importance. If the color gray is a blend of black and white it is still rooted in the specificity of the individual colors.

If inclusion and acceptance are a blend of you and me, it can still be rooted in our differences. It is subjective and fluid. If we are not clones, our shoes are worn and wear differently.

group of people standing on pavement
Photo by Tirachard Kumtanom on Pexels.com

The ability to walk in some else’s shoes with compassion, empathy and an open minded eye of inclusion is rooted in our differences but thrives in experiences we share in common.

So, what level of difference is accepted? Does that change when the shoes land at your doorstep?

If we are equally entitled to our freedom and independence then shan’t we be able to move about freely?

Respect given is respect gained.

Free to be you and free to be me.

Happy 248th birthday America.

Suicide – It may be Closer than You Think

This post will be as difficult to read as it has been to write but we must prevail in the name of support for those struggling with their own mental health.

Please don’t shy away.

I recently compiled a list so troubling that I am having difficulty sleeping.

The recent loss of an acquaintance to suicide led me down this path. A path that ends with abrupt devastation.

On the outside, this person seemingly had everything. She was smart, savvy, humble and worthy. She was a spouse, mother, grandmother, friend, mentor, employer, and community advocate.

We breathed the same air. We walked in common space. We shared cheerful words. We bonded over barbells and burpees. We exchanged smiles and contact information. We looked down the same road but saw its end at a different intersection.

Sadly, what appeared on the outside is not what lived on the inside.

Where are the signs? How do we find them? What can we do?

I always say, “Perception is reality.” Is it in the realm of suicide?

When we lose someone famous, we gasp in despair while scratching our heads wondering why someone who couldn’t possibly want for anything, die at their own hand.

Clearly, perception is not reality when the turmoil on the inside can be disguised by accolades, fame, the perfect family, the perfect career, beautiful smiles, and warm hellos. The projection of normalcy keeps us at a distance that we can’t see or perceive.

How can we navigate the quagmire to extend a lifeline, offer support or help?

My beautiful friend was so close and yet so far.

She joins 6 other friends or family that I know personally who seemed to ‘have it all’ but could no longer face their internal torment. Imagine the vast magnitude of darkness, anguish and despair so broad and unmanageable that it extinguishes such brilliant lightness in all of them.

Devastating.

Why can’t we see such dark despair on the outside when it pervades so powerfully on the inside?

Suicide prevention must be congruent with mental wellness and human connection. As our society continues to isolate itself in the name of absolutes, we exacerbate the turmoil and disconnect from those who feel different or troubled or wounded or lacking in some perceived way by the global masses.

988 The Suicide and Crisis Lifeline (formerly The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline), receives over 2 million calls a year. It’s difficult for me to quantify that number. Imagine how many struggling souls don’t make that call.

Everyone should be entitled to be free of the encumberments of judgement and angst and the perceived isolation that it generates. If we didn’t stigmatize depression or other mental crisis’s just maybe the 7 people in my life would be living and breathing today.

It troubles me greatly when I hear others lament about suicide as thoughtless and selfish or short sighted and feeble, that they didn’t try hard enough to be happy or hopeful.

We all need to be accountable to those around us by embracing their individuality and engaging in supportive wellness, not only for the others in our lives but for ourselves.  

Until you walk in someone else’s shoes. Leave the judgment behind because those shoes just might end up on your door step.

Loss survivors of suicide live in their own torment. In the cross hairs of shame, guilt, grief, sorrow, helplessness, and an insurmountable anguish. The list of questions we carry will never be answered and the abrupt loss remains with us indefinitely.

It changed me forever. Now I see things others don’t and say things they shy from.

I don’t have the answers, I live in the wake of the ship as it sinks to the bottom grasping for reasons why it sank in the first place. If only there was a telling sign or symbol that could indicate crisis and distress alerting those close enough to make a difference.

I imagine compassion, courtesy, kindness, empathy, understanding, inclusion, acceptance, expression, forgiveness, vulnerability, and trust, just might be the olive branch, the extension of peace, the bridge that narrows the gap, the love and connection that heals and ultimately suffocates the demons.

They are all cherished souls whose lives we need. Suicide may be closer than you think, we must band together to suffocate the demons.

BeThe1To.com outlines 5 steps we can all take if we encounter someone who may be suicidal.

You just might save a life.

#BeThe1To Ask, Be There, Keep Them Safe, Help Them Connect, Follow Up.

Frank and Bill – The Tale of Two Fathers

If you have been a young child of divorce, you know the agonizing feeling of loss buried deeply under glimmering hope, wishful thinking and a blatant aversion to reality. Pretending, escaping and willing it away with every breath, longing for the return to normalcy are efforts in futility.

If you have been a young child of divorce lucky enough to be blessed with a second father, then you know the peace and joy that can emerge out such a devastating scenario. I am grateful that one of the most unfortunate situations in my young life grew to be one of the most fortunate.

As I say in nearly every post, I am where I am because of where I have been. As such and without doubt, my two fathers have been the most influential men in my life, albeit through vastly different examples.

Frank was a non-conformist Hungarian refugee who colored outside of the lines in every aspect of his life. He was sophisticated, worldly, cultured, artistic, philosophical, conversational, passionate, carefree, and wounded. He loved the Mamas and the Papas and Picasso, the Pacific Ocean and sailing.

He lived a minimalist laissez-faire life and believed rules were meant to be eradicated.

Frank was into vinyl records.

Bill was an Irish Catholic career military pilot who, before becoming a corporate pilot, retired after 28 years of service as a Lieutenant Colonel. He was disciplined, focused, strict, organized, loyal, humble, stoic, and soft spoken. He loved flying planes, fishing, skiing and tinkering in the garage or yard.

He believed rules were meant to be followed.

Bill was into encyclopedias.

By virtue of their differences, I am the best part of both. Frank, through his influence and struggles taught me resilience, perseverance and compassion. How to be aware and mindful, how to overcome adversity, what inclusion looks like and why it matters. We share the same passions for music, art, the ocean and sailing.

Bill, through his regimented influence and example taught me discipline, order, organization, humility, and loyalty. His favorite saying… ‘it’s water under the bridge,’ through which I learned not to hold a grudge, or wallow in things I couldn’t control. After hearing it so much, it got me thinking why I couldn’t push it back up stream to make it come down differently, something I reference to this day. I ski because of him. I teach skiing to others because of him.

I have five step brothers and sisters, nieces, nephews, and a vast extended family I would not know and love otherwise.

These traits were realized through time and maturity. In fact, many took years, even decades, for me to recognize and embrace. Like a diamond in the rough, time fortified the inherent truths of my traits and the source of such wisdom. With hindsight and reflection, I see that now. The tale of two fathers, their influence and infinite presence always traveling on my left shoulder!

RIP Frank E. Kalapos – February 12, 1935 – November 10, 1988

RIP Lt. Colonel, William J. McElroy III – September 5, 1927 – June 7, 2022

Forever in my heart and on my left shoulder!

What the ‘F’ is Wrong with People?!?

The author reflects on the importance of self-reflection, compassion, and critical thinking in navigating life’s challenges. Drawing from experiences as a refugee’s daughter and observing the impact of diversity, she underscores the importance of co-existing amidst differences and challenges the avoidance of meaningful discussions in favor of harmful actions. She also highlights compassion and empathy as vital to understanding different perspectives, and encourages accepting diversity and individuality.

I stopped watching the sensationalized news years ago. Unfortunately, there is no escaping the onslaught of the despicable and their fallacious or malicious ways. I am perfectly fallible ambling through life hoping and trying not to be. Is there any other way? We all make mistakes and I have made my share. Like slippery ice on the sidewalk that sneaks up on you before you realize you are already on the ground writhing in pain.

Sometimes I don’t see the ice. Other times I see it glistening from miles away but keep walking in that direction. What draws us to the wrong direction? Hope or Hate? Hope that we might be able to sidestep the ice in the distance. Or hate for the ice and whoever the ‘F’ put it there. Both choices lead us down the wrong path but one teaches us how to avoid slipping in the future while the other perpetuates the inevitable. It’s clearly out of our control and someone else’s ‘F’ing problem not mine.

close up of the hands of a young couple
Photo by Alexander Mass on Pexels.com

How did we become incapable of self reflection, critical thinking, objective decision making and most importantly, loving thy ‘F’ing neighbor?! If you could walk 10 feet beyond every choice you made before you actually took the steps, would you? Is your opinion or action really that important if the hurt it projects, real or perceived, not only crushes your audience but chips at your own soul?

As the daughter of a political refugee, I was exposed to different cultures, ethnicities and skin colors through a lens that projected everyone as equals. I guess, when you have fought for your freedom and have walked in other’s shoes judgement is irrelevant and unnecessary. At the time, I didn’t realize the value of my father’s worldly ways and the broader exposure it supported. A true gift lived by example.

As I grew older, I witnessed the contradiction to this gift as it shed a bright and luminous light on the consequence of our collective actions, good and bad. How did we become a collection of diversity now needing to be like everyone else? Why do we kill people that don’t share our beliefs? Why do we kill children before they can form theirs’? Why do we reach for a gun instead of objective reflection? Critical thinking with a serving of rational understanding in the name of acceptance for why your opinion matters. A simple recipe best served without a measuring cup.  

Can’t we just agree to disagree? I saw somewhere recently that anger will shorten your life by 15 years. Hmmm, die early or be happy and kind. Not much of a stretch there. Life would truly suck if we stood as mirror images of each other. Qualities that are different and unique are the antithesis of ambiguity for a reason. Why be ambiguous or indifferent when you can stand proudly in your spoken or unspoken individuality without risk of retribution.

The project, Marlo Thomas and Friends message of inclusion from 1972 coined the simplicity of coexisting amid diversity Free to be You and Me. The 21st century version re-sung by Sara Bareilles in 2020 is linked below. Check it out!

Expanding our horizons is not about clearing the trees, rather seeing the beauty among and beyond them. You be you and I will be me. Embrace the ugly, different and outspoken the same way you might hug your puppy after he took a runny, messy poop all over your new living room rug.

Compassion and Empathy for All! #CEforAll