Tales from an Urban Anomaly

~ anomaly|əˈnäməlē|noun (pl. anomalies) something that deviates from what is standard, normal, or expected ~ At age 53, I did something unexpected, I walked away from stable unhappiness, right into unstable fulfillment. The tales that follow are thoughts, advenutures and even a few heartaches, are my stories of starting over from scratch, older and wiser, an empty nester, artist, photographer, writer, single woman, living in the moment of passionate pursuit, professionally and personally. Business site: www.valakodish.com

[valakodish]

[valakodish]

[valakodish]

Manifestations

The date of my last blog was June 2014, over three years ago. Reading back over my blog entries, I clearly see now that they were manifestations. Without dreaming, or imagining a life, one can simply exist “comfortably numb” in a world of comfort and security. 

One has to wake up with one’s self every morning and face that person in the mirror and agree that it is a life they are content with. I actually know people that I feel can successfully do just that, and they are rare.  They are not necessarily the people that have amassed a rich material world; or even those who have collected a secure circle of friends and family; they are the people who have recognized and acknowledged their own hard work, big and small successes,  and can truly wake up and be grateful for where they are at any given moment - without regret, without emptiness, with love and acceptance of their world at that given moment. I was not one to settle for comfortably numb...though I do recall actually “praying” that I could just be happy with it. As I became more and more removed from my own life of discontent, that lead to my subsequent divorce, I immediately went into survivor mode. Surviving as a single mother in search for contentment in a world of which I was invisible - from not finding work, to not receiving my legal financial support from my ex, and then when I did it came with emotional abuse and less than our legal agreement -  I had a hard time not equating my experiences with my self esteem (or lack thereof). 

But something had shifted inside me. As hard a hit my self esteem had taken, and as humiliating as the struggle was, I suddenly was waking up again with an awareness of choice, which translated to hope. It was something that had gone awol in me long ago. 

The frustrating thing was knowing that I finally had choices but not given any opportunity to pursue them. It is a youth driven society, especially in a place like Miami. I have spent endless hours thinking of what made Miami a more youth driven city than any other in the US. I think it comes down to two things...the warm weather, which means skimpy clothing and a slow tropical life of less ambition, and to the Latin culture that was always on “party time”.  Work alluded me, which was a blessing as it pushed me to start my own business. I managed to create something exciting and built a small clientele, but not one large or loyal enough to sustain me financially. That compounded with the my middle aged invisibility had me feeling extremely lonely.  My efforts felt futile in re-building my life in the city I had spent the last 25 years, a city that didn’t feel my pulse quicken with an influx of the arts, a city that didn’t feel my sadness and frustration of the over-building without consideration of artists, nature, or the environment, I knew it was time to find another. 

In reading over my past posts, I can hear my discontent mixed with my sadness in my desire to keep still, keep it simple and stay. Ultimately, in my heart I knew I had to leave. 

May 2016, I took on a roommate to offset my expenses (yet another man who decided that he would drop his responsibilities on my plate and left without paying his bills), so I could venture out and explore possibilities of a place to live and work, where I could be recognized for my skills, talent, and burning desire to be productive regardless of my age. I packed up my truck with the necessary essentials: a suitcase of clothing, an air mattress, an inflatable paddle board, photo gear and of course, my loyal, loving companion, Teddy, my 9 year old, dog. 

We meandered around the South and the East Coast for 5000 miles over a period of at least 8 weeks. There were many places I could see myself living from Nashville, to Atlanta, to Asheville, but it was pre-election and I worried about my longterm wellbeing on the outside chance Trump would win. I had to take into consideration things I had taken for granted when I was still employed by a corporation, and still married, both with healthcare and retirement intact, both of which came at a price for my independence. With that in mind, I kept my serious search to the state of NY, with the thought of following up in Colorado, and possibly California again, if I didn’t find the right fit. I focused my search on the Hudson Valley. After some time, I encountered an opportunity to work in my field in NYC (not one of my choices of places to move to ironically), and after months of pursuing an interview, and months more of training, I was hired to be part of an amazing team of independent contractors. It had been years since I was part of a team and the awareness of my good fortune was and still is, overwhelming. 

The last three years have been anything but easy, nor a simple path to where I am at this moment. It has been hard, scary, and full of doubt, but the underlying motivations were my hopes and dreams, refusing to believe the good years are behind me. 

[valakodish]

And so it is...

Winter, Central Park

[valakodish]

[valakodish]

Longing

Longing is an ache to fulfill a desire that is not being met. My longings are simple, probably no different than most. Only we have the ability to fulfill our own longings, passions, desires, so what’s stopping us? Is it the case of “the grass is always greener?” I believe in part that we are constantly moving the bar simply because without hope and desire, what else is there to get us up and going in the morning? 

I long to return to the fulfillment of nature in my life, especially attached to my memories of hiking on a practically empty trail, fishing in a pristine stream, with nothing but the fish taunting me, feeling the night chill in my tent and welcoming the warm, heat of the sunrise. My sense memory will take me there in my minds eye when I conjure the smell of the baking granite in the dry arid mountain air. Last summer I took full advantage of the California natural habitats. Upon my return to the humid, much to hot Florida weather, my skin took in the moist heat with a welcoming slurp. However, it didn’t take but a minute to miss the bug-less, dry, moderate California weather. Florida summers are very limiting to me. Other than golf, even this is difficult with the daily summer thunderstorms (though the thunderstorms to me, are the best part of Florida summers), all other outdoor activity involves water. It’s the only way to survive the summer. Boating, paddle boarding, and going to the beach, are the common options, none of which removes one from the masses. However, I’ve found that once you are over 3 miles into a mountain hiking trail, the crowds thin out and you will most likely have all the glorious nature to yourself. I miss finding my solitude in nature. 

Another longing I have that I share with all human beings, is the desire to love and be loved. I could probably demonstrate that everything from commercial advertising to how one dresses to social media are a need for attention that leads back to this one basic longing. How is it that we all share this basic desire and yet, so few are fulfilled? Who or what is preventing us from attaining this basic need?  Is it the constant influx of our 30 second society that convolutes our desires and therefore, our confidence, and eventually we are a self fulfilled prophecy of not being good enough? When I look around, I see so many people having the same experiences in what has become is a mass grope in the dark. I’m ready to turn on the light, willing to reveal my true self and have confidence that I have what it takes to love and be loved. I have faith that the light will shine bright enough to see the way to love. 

[valakodish]

[valakodish]

“See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. O, that I were a glove upon that hand That I might touch that cheek!”

― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

[valakodish]

Never Underestimate The Power of The Human Touch

According to Ben Benjamin, PhD, a hundred years ago 99% of babies in orphanages in the US died before they reached seven months old. When unwanted babies were deposited into institutions of those times, it was thought that modern procedures and adequate food seemed to guarantee them a fighting chance for a healthy life. However, the babies died not from disease or malnutrition, they died from a different kind of deprivation: lack of touch. Once removed from the sterile conditions and into nurturing conditions, they gained weight and began to thrive. The first time I had any knowledge of this was in the early 1990s of my flying career. I had a passenger who was returning from Russia with her new baby….or so I thought. The child looked to be about 9 or 10 months old, but I was shocked to find out she was actually four years old! The new mom told me that the orphanage kept the children in cages, much like a pet clinic. She explained that due to the lack of service workers, they kept the children caged for their own security and protection. Many of them not having diaper changes, living in their own excretion. I’ll never forget how that timid little, under developed child opened my naive eyes to a world beyond what we consider the norm in our own society. She also opened my heart to the world of touch. 

Other medically proven advantages show that touch can slow the racing heart, lower the blood pressure, and significantly calm even the most terminally ill. Although not a cure-all, even those suffering from depression have been positively effected by the gentle touch of another. 

When I consider how social media has infiltrated every pore of our social existence I wonder if it may have something to do with the mass social depression that seems to be on the rise? People are sitting alone, isolated, untouched, observing the “good life” of others. Once outside their four walls, other walls goes up with the prevalence of smart phones and social media, hardly anyone is “present”, making eye contact, and definitely not touching.  Mix in social media, guns, and the infiltration of pharmaceutical cure-alls, and you have the recipe for social disaster after social disaster with no end in sight.  To me, it doesn’t seem to be a coincidence that there seems to be large numbers of people suffering from depression as social media becomes more and more prevalent in our daily existence. Ironically, social media has isolated us from the human touch. 

And then there is the voice. A voice is the audio connection to human emotion. Voice also determines individual personality, quick and businesslike, slow and deliberate, soft and warm… all lost on social media, texting and emails.  Even the written word of past snail mail, had more thought and time invested in it’s pros. 

I am just as isolated as the next person, because I not only engage in all the modern day social media and texting, as a freelance artist, I work from my home studio, so engaging at the “work place” isn’t even an option. While I have never given into the thought of depression, I have experienced times where I have been lacking in energy, unmotivated and desirous to just sleep. Add to that the lack of human touch with my children grown and living solo, I can see how someone could easily be drawn into the promise of euphoria with just a pill, though I personally believe that is a dangerous path to walk and would choose my own experience over one pharmaceutically manufactured. (*note: I cannot speak to others' experience and depth of depression, nor am I a scientist.)

I propose we have one day a week that we choose to turn off social media and texting in terms of our personal lives. Of course, in the business world, social media, texting and emails are the necessary evils, however, not in our personal lives. 

I will start with me. When I walk my dog several times a day, I leave my phone behind. When I run out for something in the market, I leave my phone behind. At 11pm until 7am, I have my phone set on DO NOT DISTURB, opting out of “updates” and more. I, like so many, have a small addiction to the false sense of self importance generated through my phone. I will make every attempt to push communication to either voice to voice or face to face. 

[valakodish]

[valakodish]

How I Acquired A Super Power

Which super power would you choose if you had the choice? Flying? Invisibility?

Teleporting? Mind-Reading?  Personally, I would choose teleporting - just think, no traffic, you can attend as many functions in one night, be there at the birth of a child, or the beside of a loved one’s last moments.  As it turns out, without any effort on my part, I managed to acquire the super power of invisibility. 

Becoming invisible didn’t happen overnight, it was a gradual disappearance. I began to notice it around the age of 48. Perhaps it was occurring before that, but I was so busy running around putting out the proverbial fires of motherhood and family management, that I wasn’t too aware of my slowly acquiring super power. 

It was only after I had divorced, had set up my new place with all but one of my children off into the world of their own, did I notice my invisibility. Excited and armed with my newly gained independence, I headed out into the unknown with the greatest of enthusiasm, only to not be greeted with the same. Needless to say it was a shock to the system, especially having lived too much in the spot light during my more youthful days. I remember then knowing that my youth and beauty would fade while trying to embrace the immense attention I received of which I was very uncomfortable. I recall feeling I needed to assert myself so others would understand I wasn’t just a pretty face and that there was substance under the temporary facade of this petite, young, blonde. I always felt I had to prove my credibility. With that, turning 30 was a great moment for me, as I felt I had reached the age of credibility and I no longer deserved being treated like a “pretty young thing.”  Had I only known then that it wasn’t a number but just embracing who I was with confidence, regardless of the type of attention I received.

Fast forward a couple of decades and too much attention is no longer an issue.

There are definite benefits to being invisible.  If and when I speak up to make a stand I catch people so off guard I usually get my way. Invisibility is also an advantage as a photographer moving about urban streets. And the credibility factor? Well, now when receiving the rewards of my hard work, I know it is merely based on the product I produce and not because people favor my looks. 

As we enter each plateau of the process of aging, emerging yourself completely into who you are at that moment is called living. Allowing others to define who you are by their preconceived impressions is a mistake we all make. Perhaps that is why it is said with age comes wisdom.   I am now in my science lab trying to develop a new super power, to truly levitate above the fray.

[valakodish]

[valakodish]

When Is It Time to Say Enough?

When is it time to say enough of the urban life? A life rife with traffic, exorbitant expenses, constant lurking danger, and dog eat dog mentality?   When is it time to say enough of being surrounded by lack of integrity and profit over welfare of others?  Does one’s tolerance level go in cycles like the moon? Or is crazy  cyclical, not one’s tolerance? 

As I mentioned in a previous post, urban life is full of richness of the arts, diversity, and excitement. It’s an addiction that is hard to walk away from, so when does one actually know when it’s time to make the decision and take the leap? 

I have lived in Miami longer than I have lived in any single place my entire life. Having grown up as a military brat, as well as spending 19 years of my adult life flying for an airline, trust me, 23 years in one place is a long ass time for me. With that you would think that my roots go far too deep to just pick up and move. In a short answer, not really. Sure I have a handful of good friends that I would miss terribly, as well as missing the proximity of some of my family members living two counties north of here, but how often do we actually have quality time together? Busy lives, struggling to stay above the urban fray, managing their own interpersonal relationships…all make gatherings between friends and family not quite as often as you would think. In the end, one has to think about the quality of life they are living in any given moment. Are you happy to be where you are when you wake up? Are you living your life as full as you possibly can? Are you living authentically? Are you finding little successes in your progress to fulfillment? These are all things I weigh on a daily basis. Maybe I’m putting too much emphasis on all the various aspects, but I can’t help but feel I’m in living in a pressure cooker and that I have been well cooked for quite a while. I have stayed this long, to see my youngest get accepted and ship off to college. I am just two months short of that after 22 years of motherhood. My hope was that this beautiful work/live space would provide me inspiration and the ability to create and produce while spending these last months with her. It has provided some of that in my very short time here, but it has also produced as much anxiety and concern as it has creativity. This area is just on the brink of speculators buying up block after block as it is one of the last frontiers in Miami, east of I-95, and it happens to be bordered on all sides by gentrification. That being said, it is far from gentrification, and when gentrification closes in on the have-nots, the have-nots literally have no where to go. I knew it would be a challenge living in the midst of it, but I have yet to shy away from diversity, in many of the cities I have lived - most while they were transforming into gentrified meccas. However, I really had no idea that each and every single day, now day 42, would bring a new challenge from termite infestation, to the roof leaks, to gang shoot outs, to today, the latest being a discovery of a decomposing homeless body on the tracks close enough to smell. Needless to say, I fear more for my daughter’s well being than my own. The whole point of remaining here just one more year was to share this time with her. Is it time to say “UNCLE!” and make the change?

I was thinking about multitudes of times that I made big changes in my life and how the decisions came about. Like this decision, it seems all of them were percolating in the corners of my mind of ill content and then out of the blue, one day, the bell would ring and that would be it. Once I made the decision, all my inertia flowed in that direction, never second guessing myself, including leaving home at 17; heading out west in my beater car at 19; traveling solo through Europe at 25; my first (albeit, very short) marriage to a musician; my second marriage; leaving that marriage after 20 years; so this decision should be like all the rest, right?  Not so fast. This decision doesn’t just affect me alone. My three children were born and raised in Miami, and though none of them are currently living here, Miami will always be their home. It is where the bulk of their family is; it is where all their friends are; it is the place of their childhood memories. If I leave, they will have to make a choice during holidays, as well as other life’s milestones, to visit “home”,  where their father, family and friends will be, or visit their mother in some other place that is not home. I know if I were in their shoes, I would choose to go home. Ultimately, leaving Miami means I will be seeing my children even less than I do now, unless to go to them and take up precious time in their busy, full lives. Tough decision. That brings me to choosing a where to go?  The criteria carries a heavier load than it did 23 years ago. In consideration is where my kids would happily visit me. An accessible place, as well as a fun destination so that visiting mom will be a haven or a vacation perhaps. Having recently started over at the end of a marriage and career, finding a place where I am able to make a smooth transition with work is necessary, for obvious reasons beyond creativity.  And due to the fact that I am an artist, a place that allows me the inspiration of urban life, without such harshness of the inner city life would be nice as well. Of course this imaginary place would still have a middle class that would allow me a better lifestyle than what Miami has to offer on a shoe string budget. And finally, within a state that “does it right.”  That allows dignity from voting rights to putting funding into education, veterans, elderly and more. I have just described my Utopia!  

I have discovered over and over again, that when I manifest, I get what I want. My only mistakes in the past have been not to be specific enough! Be careful of what you ask for. Be specific. I am in search of my Utopia, first stop Denver, but my eyes and mind and gut instinct are open to any and all possibilities and suggestions. 

The bell is ringing, or more like the alarm is sounding, it is time to go. Where O where will this next journey take me?

[valakodish]

[valakodish]

"Tantric sex is meditative, spontaneous and very intimate lovemaking. With Tantra you learn to prolong the act of making love and to focus on, rather than dispel, potent orgasmic energies moving through you, thereby raising the level of your consciousness. Tantra transports sexuality from simply doing to actually being. There is no final sexual goal in Tantra, only the present moment of an ideal, harmonious union. Tantra teaches you to worship your sexual partner and to transform the act of sex into a sacrament of love. Lovemaking between two partners, when entered with awareness, can be a gateway to sexual and spiritual ecstasy alike. Tantra, through sex, attempts to awaken powerful psychic energies within through which we can enter into higher states of consciousness."

http://www.askmen.com/dating/love_tip/43b_love_tip.html

[valakodish]

Sex And The Urban Anomaly

When I was younger I refused to try to imagine my parents having sex. It was too horrifying of an image to conjure, besides, they were just too old  to have sex, right?  I couldn't even think about the possibility of wanting  to have sex as an old person.  

And so I arrive at this stage of life, kicking and screaming, wanting to scream out, “but I’m not old yet!”  Sure I have endless experiences to show for my 56 years, though I have to say that so many of those experience were like the blind leading the blind. Life is full of sadistic ironies. Youth is loaded with tight, sinuous muscles; sweaty, smooth skin; sweet aromas and raging hormones, but with no inner guidance or wisdom to direct the erratic energy. All the old adages can be inserted here:  Youth is Wasted on the Young, Hindsight is 20/20, If I Only Knew Then What I Know Now….    I’M NOT OLD YET!!!  

But must it be so fruitless at this age? Can a middle age woman, post children, post menopause put to use the hindsight? In a nutshell, yes. When she removes the preconception of what the youth driven society considers beautiful; and she puts to use the hindsight combined with the freedom that comes with aging, yes, sex can be even better at this age. 

It took me this long to realize that women, and I can only speak to women of my generation, were taught how to have sex and enjoy sex, by men. We have lived in a society that was set up and run by men. They don’t know how to enjoy sex other than from a man’s perspective, so why would they believe it to be any different for a woman?  I’m not blaming men, its just a fact that woman have lived with. I remember in my early youth, that it was a big deal when they discovered that women actually had orgasms. Of course, I had no idea what all the buzz was about at the time, but it was in the news (albeit hidden). Post marriage, I read a book that changed my thinking.  Tantric Orgasm For Women, by Diana Richardson. It could’ve been any book, as there are countless books on the subject , but this particular book was a 50th birthday gift from a well intentioned friend. Being in a passionless marriage, I put it on the shelf. A couple of years later, after I had moved into my own place, I picked it up one night simply because I had nothing else to read at the moment. I read most of it, it made sense, but it seemed a bit off my course, so I never gave it much thought. Then almost a year later, after developing trust in someone I was dating, my subconscious grabbed onto some of the wisdom I garnered from the book and flooded into my present state. It felt as if I was experiencing sex for the first time in my life. My partner had no idea what had happened, nor did I, but one of the most significant things that happened in those moments was realizing that my sexual pleasure came from within me, my capabilities and not necessarily through my partner. Of course, having a loving partner with whom I could trust, had impact on the experience as well. What a concept to ponder. I could have amazing sexual pleasure, with just about anyone I chose to be with.

My interpretation of the concept is this:  men and women are complete opposites in the sexual realm in that they are creating a flow of energy that is yin/yang. It makes perfect sense when you think about it. Men’s sexual organs are exterior and their flow is outward, including their orgasms. Women’s sexual organs are interior, as with their orgasms, and they take in the flow of the male energy, a receptor to create another human being.  Yin/Yang is the symbol of life itself.

     I have discovered that during the pleasures of sex, all I have to do is change my mindset and physically and visually accept the male energy, all the while breathing in a yogic manner and magic happens!  If the woman’s focus is on either his orgasms or hers through clitoral stimulation (i.e., male outward energy) the pleasure is minimized.  It’s not to say that external stimulation isn’t a wonderful experience, but it is goal oriented and short lived. In Tantric sex, and breathing, the pleasure is deep, and long, and utterly satisfying for both partners. 

[valakodish]

The Colors of the Urban Life