competition

i live about a 10 minute walk from a beautiful and interesting disc golf course, and have been out and about on it several times in the past couple of months.  on my most recent jaunt i headed out with a friend who, after we had bombed the first hole, asked me how i kept score.  his face looked kind of confused when i stated that i did not actually keep track of score when i played, but just went out for the chance to play, be outside, exercise my dog, and do something that challenges me.

"but, how do you know who wins?"  he asked.  "what's the point?"

i was concerned in that moment that this first hole might be the only one we played.  i had no interest in competing with my friend, and he believed that in order to play a game there must be a winner and a loser.  i asked him whether or not he knew his best score from the course (he did), and suggested that perhaps he compete with himself rather than with me.  we were able to continue on after that, both of us getting what we started out to do...kind of.  i could tell that regardless of my not keeping score, that my friend was doing the tally in his head.  i doubt that we will go out on the course together again. 

i thought about it afterward - why did i not just roll with his need for it to be a competition?  i used to keep track of score when i went to the course in utah. what had changed. the first time i'd been out to the course here in corvallis i was with a different friend who did not keep score. i'd not kept score since then.  maybe i was simply following the norm that friend set?  but, then again, i just joined an indoor soccer team here in town, and we got creamed my first game out.  i walked away fully satisfied regardless - all i wanted to do was play.  i did not really care who won or lost.

i used to be so competitive - what happened?

i used to hate losing.  i made everything into a competition - and i mean everything.  cooking, driving, hiking, school, talking, intelligence, being funny - my daily life was laid out as a landscape of things at which i could beat people.  if i did not have others to compete with, i created little games in my head where i could compete with myself.  it was fun.  it made me more productive.  it passed the time.

plus it could mean i was better than you - and this helped my flagging self confidence.

but now...not so much.  i used to get such pleasure in rising above the rest, being the best - winning - at whatever i was doing.  these days my focus is different.  i spend more time doing things that are collaborative.  i prefer to have team harmony and cooperation rather than being the standout individual.  i want everyone to grow, play, learn, have fun.  when i have some means to compare my current self to my past self i am looking for self-improvement as celebration rather than beating a personal best.

so i wonder - where does competition come from?  my mind first goes to biology and the need to meet basic needs and procreate.  humans do that - we amass wealth and resources to ensure our physical survival, and strive to groom ourselves to be the most beautiful so we can find a mate.  instinct is a powerful thing.  i often see the ways in which it affects humans most when i look at children, who have had less time to be socialized to behave in certain ways.  when children are left to their own devices they also create competitive situations.  children compete with one another without even knowing why.  just watch a group of them on the playground create a pecking order, or play a game, and you can see this happening.  recently i was in the park and watched a young girl pick up a bunch of fall leaves.  she picked up more than her sister, and proclaimed to her mother, "i won!'  'what does that mean?' her mother asked.  the look on the little girl's silent face told me she had no clue. 

now i am not saying that competition is not also something we learn.  i think that the urge to compete has been transformed in the human world into something different than just feeding, protecting, and having sex.  sports and games are prime examples.  although some might beg to differ, the eagles/pats game that is on the tv next to me right now is not a matter of survival.  that said, people develop an emotional connection to competition that is deep enough that for some, it feels like it.  i remember feeling like someone had died after losing a state semifinals game in high school.  the sense and quality of the emotion was so much deeper than even i could explain.

i wonder then, what it means that i no longer feel as competitive?  i would say that perhaps this is linked to feeling secure and therefore not having the instinctual need to compete, but my life seems contrary to that.  even when i was struggling last year with unemployment and homelessness i did not feel a competitive nature arise.  i'm single, and though i have interest in finding a mate, i don't really feel that it is something i need to compete for.  the more time that passes in my life the less competition is important to me.  i am not the only one to express this.  so many people i know have stated that they have become less and less competitive as they aged.  i've heard it in the climbing community and in team sports particularly, which makes sense considering these are competitive areas to begin with.

so i wonder - if competition is part of primitive instinct, and over time people tend to be less competitive (my own observations of course - no data), does this mean that maturation eliminates competition?  i do see a great amount of immaturity within competitive arenas -football victory dances and political mudslinging immediately come to mind.  and if that's so, is there such a thing as competition that is completely adult?

yeah...so that's what i have been thinking about...and now that i have taken you with me to the brink, i'm done.

on healing...

after 10 months of stalking people and a fair amount of begging, i've finally landed a spot on a soccer team at the sports park here in corvallis.  i've not played soccer since i slogged around the pitch during college, so i was really excited when i had my first game this weekend.  i only knew 2 people on the team, and we got our asses handed to us, but it was just so good to be playing again that i could have cared less.  i am unsure why i let that part of me (yep, the soccer part of me) fall by the wayside so easily.  initially i think it was all the weight i put on in college, and then later, living in utah, the lack of availability of a league to join.  regardless, when i stepped onto the pitch yesterday it was my first game in 10 years - totally rad.

of course every action has an equal and opposite reaction (or so they say and i am generally inclined to agree), and i today i woke up feeling very much like i'd been rolled over by some kind of large vehicle.  everything - and i do mean everything - hurt.  my body is most definitely not accustomed to high impact exercise.

now i am not saying this to complain.  quite the opposite actually.  the lactic acid buildup in my muscles, the stiffness in my joints - these are things that remind me that: a) i am alive; and b) i get to participate in activities that i love.  there is no bad there.  even the turf burns that are swollen on my knees like wobbly golf balls indicate that: a) i am still a klutz, and thus continue to be able to laugh at myself; and b) i played as hard as i could. 

the one thing that did however toss me for a loop (or more realistically, got my attention a bit more than the soreness), was that two old injuries reared their ugly heads, causing swelling and stiffness that i did not anticipate.  ok, i did anticipate that my ankle would be stiff after being jostled around on the turf and subjected to my instep drive, but i did not think that my torn rotator cuff would be angry as well.  both were cranky and lacked in range of motion despite years and years of rest, yoga, and physical therapy. 

the shoulder was very surprising.  it has been five and a half years since i, like a dumbass, rode my bicycle into a tree jed bartlet style and tore the whole thing open.  despite not having health insurance, i was able to work with my dad on physical therapy, and beyond occasionally tweaking it in a climbing shock-load, it's been pretty silent.  the ankle, a backcountry mishap while at work at aspen, happened a little over three years ago.  the doctor was shocked when he discovered that it was not broken.  it was close to black from bruising, and the swelling was so bad that my leg was one diameter from mid-calf through the top of my foot.  i suppose that with all of that scar tissue it makes sense that i'll be feeling that baby for some time to come.

as i altered poses in my yoga class in order to accommodate my cantankerous joints, i thought about what it takes to fully heal from something.  healing is hard.  when something breaks in the body - goes the way it should not, fractures, bends, tears - one can be pretty sure that a 100% recovery is impossible.  even the smallest of cuts leave scars.  doctors can see where bones have healed, scar tissue limits range of motion, people lose hearing, eyesight, the use of limbs...damage to the body leaves a lasting impact. 

the day after i was evacuated from the field with what we were sure was a broken ankle, the man i had been involved with for years told me he'd met someone else, and left me in an incredibly cruel way.  sitting in therapy a week later, unable to walk and heartbroken, i was able to see that the healing of my body would mirror the healing of my heart.  i'm really good at healing the body (well apparently not considering my stiff joints), or at least i know what goes into healing.  as a lifelong athlete i've had my fair share of sprains, strains, and dislocations.  i understood that time, rest, patience, and care would eventually lead me to be well again.  i decided i would apply this kind of healing to the pain of what had just happened to me. 

as metaphors go, this one is pretty damn good if you ask me.  not only can we heal our emotional wounds by applying the same methods as we do to physical ones, they also resurface at times when we least expect it.  not unlike my stiff ankle and shoulder, some of the hurts and pains of my life have come up recently.  a year after being offered the job here at oregon state, i am starting to work through some of the things that happened during 2010, and even some of the start of 2011.  i am remembering the pain and shame of experiences i had while trying to pay bills, make ends meet, and survive living in my car in the cold.  recently i've been waking up not knowing where i am, or being surprised i am in a bed.  when i drove to idaho i felt paranoid about traveling without water, food, and a sleeping bag in my car.  these things, just like the soreness of old injuries, came up when i did not expect them. 

so what to do?  well with the ankle and shoulder i am gonna r.i.c.e. that shit, change up my yoga routine, and probably tape the ankle before the next game.  but the rest...well i suppose these things will start to settle out with time.  i know that talking at the faces of homelessness panel helped me to put words to feelings and events that i'd kept in for the most part.  having those honored in a public forum helped.  i also have spent a good amount of time meditating.  in meditation one can start to untie the knots that are formed in one's psyche.  the problem is that, just like physical therapy, it hurts.  also the act of opening oneself up to the untying only surfaces more knots.  this can be exhausting, and i am often tempted to just stop and block it all up again.  sometimes there is just too much.  i noted to a friend tonight that there are times when it seems that living life is synonymous with getting hurt.

of course i don't actually believe that. 

today i wrote a new song.  i am very proud of it both because the guitar part is beautiful and i am very excited that i am able to play it, and because it represents another form of healing.  i spent a great amount of time looking at my most recent relationship - what was good, what went wrong, and what i'd like it to become - and i put it into music.  writing it was beautiful and painful.  when it was done i played it through a number of times as if the singing of the song would somehow draw out the pain and leave me without the stiffness of emotional scar tissue.  after running through it more times than i can count, i realized that though the song is for one person in particular, it applies to the lot of my relationships.  music - another way to untie the knots.

i will say though that despite all of these attempts to heal, there will always be a part of me that is altered by my experiences.  just like the scar on my thumb from when i took a knife through it to the bone, the creaking in my knee from the torn meniscus, or the stiffness in my joints after a soccer game, the emotional injuries will push me to be a slightly different person.  i don't think that this is necessarily a bad thing.  having reminders of past injuries can help us to avoid new ones.  the trick is not to let them box us in.  just because i almost broke my ankle does not mean i should not play soccer now, just as having been through a bad breakup does not mean i should not look for someone to love.  that said, the scars can serve as reminders of things we don't want to relive.  they make us wiser.  if we honor these experiences we learn from them and become stronger people.

i guess this means i have to honor my cranky shoulder - shit.

activism

there was a short time where i thought i might take a stab at writing about the occupy movement - come up with witty sociopolitical commentary and seem so astute and current.  i've spent a lot of time reading about occupy, spoken to friends who have been at wall street, and have been to some of the events here in corvallis and on campus.  what i have decided (at least where this post is involved), is that there are far more brilliant and well-read people out there discussing the finer points of the occupy movement, and my ideas would just clutter the stage.  philosopher and political commentator i am not.

i used to consider myself an activist.  i did all kinds of things to make my political or social point.  i held signs, chanted, wore t-shirts over my work clothes on campus...no homelessness! animal rights! no war in iraq!  it was not until i was being tossed, covered in ketchup, into the back of a cop car to be held as a scare tactic (illegally i might add) that i started thinking about my time as an activist to see whether or not it was working out for me.  with high fructose corn syrup and vinegar burning my eyes i started to see that perhaps, for me, activism was not the way to go.

now, there are those in my life who tell me that i have no thing resembling a light touch.  they might be right.  once i decided that i was not going to be an activist, or at least the incarnation of that identity that i had created, i denounced it top to bottom.  hell no i'm not one of THEM!  those people are wasting every one's time.

what i've realized since then is that there are so many ways to enact activism.  one does not have to be a part of a die-in at the center of an intersection in order to influence people based on the cause one believes in.  i woke to this concept my second year at washington state university.  a strict vegan and environmentalist (i never stopped caring about the causes), i learned that my students paid close attention to what i was up to.  when we went out to meals they saw what i ate.  they looked at the clothes i wore, and when they were at my apartment they learned that i did not flush the toilet every time i used it.  they saw me ride my bike to the main office rather than drive.  they saw the books on my shelves.  it did not take long for a) the less curious to label me a hippie and move on, and b) the more curious to start asking my all-time favorite question...why?

when people ask why it is such an amazing gift.  it means you get to TELL THEM.  they want to hear it - they asked.  you have the ability to stand on a soapbox and have your words fall on open ears.  the first time a student asked me why i was vegan the conversation ended over an hour later.  the student thought my reasons were compelling, and asked me if i could do a program for her floor where we all cooked a fully vegan meal to demonstrate that vegan food was accessible to all.  it was a lot of fun!  this opened up conversation among the staff about food and culture and health and environment and economics.  once the students realized i was game for questions the flood gates were open...and i started to ask them questions too...and they started asking one another.  since then i have to the best of my ability encouraged and supported people in my life whenever they ask me that lovely question. WHY?

going back to the vegan thing.  once my students' consciousnesses were raised they started telling me things they did and saw.  one student loved to report to me when he'd eaten a vegan meal.  another would let me know whether or not foods in the dining center were ok for me to eat.  all of my staff started asking their students whether there were any specific dietary needs before buying food for the floor.  with 'why' as our start we had opened up a world of information, advocacy, and shifted perspectives.  as i watched this happen i realized that i don't need to hold signs or chant to change minds.  i shifted how i saw myself to that of an educator-activist.  i chose to live my life by my ideals out where people could see it.  when they inquired i would use that as an opportunity to teach.

in the past two years though i have shifted this view a bit farther.  i spent some time struggling to make ends meet - in poverty, unable to pay my bills, living in a car.  i wanted so badly for people to just see that what was happening was not ok, and that the system and the world around me were flawed and hurting people.  it was at this point that i realized how privileged my view had been with regards to enacting change.  living my life by my ideals implied that a) i had the access and resources to do so, b) there were not other things that took up my energy (like getting food or staying warm) that kept me from educating others, and c) that people would listen.  the first two made a lot of sense - clearly money, time, and energy are resources that one must have in order to sit back and wait for the world to notice and listen.  the third thing, that people might not listen regardless, was foreign to me.  being homeless or not having enough food or money is to be invisible to others.  in my case people could not look at me and see that i was struggling.  i had a nice car, and clothes, and appeared to be doing just fine.  for others who appear to be struggling or homeless it's even worse.  people don't look at them.  they blame them for their situation, and largely ignore them.  it is rare that a person experiencing homelessness gets asked 'why?'  if they are asked, it is rare that people who hear what they have to say believe it.

so what does that mean for me now?  well i am grateful to be back in a place where people do listen, and i still often wait to have the lovely 'why' thrown my way.  that said, i strive to speak out more about my own experiences and the experiences of others rather than waiting for peoples' curiosities to lead them there.  i recently went out to the quad to join up with the walk-out that was part of the occupy osu movement.  it felt strange and awkward for me to stand among the sign holders again.  i wondered if i should even be there, and had this sense that perhaps i was an impostor in that world.  when the time came for people to speak at the human mic, i stepped up and said a piece about students experiencing homelessness.  i felt excited to advocate for others, and saddened that often my students who struggle need me to be their voice because people are more likely to listen.  that leads me to another thing i try to do - be an ally and advocate for those who are not a privileged as i. 

the last thing i do is i refuse to keep quiet about things that are shamed in society.  i spoke today to a group of people from the corvallis community who are engaged in a professional and leadership development series.  while speaking about some of the challenges my students faced, i shared a bit about my story.  my hope is that when a person in business casual, with cards that are emblazoned with the letters MA, steps up and talks about living in a car that this will change peoples ideas about being homeless.  i also hope that in simply putting words to my story that i can show that these are issues we need to talk about - not just sweep them under the carpet.  recently i was speaking with a group of students and mentioned that i deal with anxiety - mental illness, another stigma - and when the conversation was over one of the students came to me and thanked me for sharing.  she too dealt with anxiety, and my 'outing' myself made her feel safer to talk about her experience.  if shame and stigma keep these issues silent and invisible people will not get what they need.  if in putting my own stuff out there helps others and disrupts the silence...i'm on it.

so am i an activist?  i suppose i am.  i suppose i've never not been one despite my strong need to denounce activism.  activists seek change - they disrupt - they don't just go with the flow.  seems like good company to be in if you ask me.

labels

i was conversing with a friend the other day about gender and sexuality and self-identification, and he, bold as usual, asked me how i identified.

'i don't,' was my reply.

the words actually came out of my mouth before i had thought about it.  i had a similar experience a few days later while discussing politics and communities.  a different friend, after hearing me rant for about 30 minutes, stated 'i never pegged you to be an anarchist,' to which, i replied, 'i'm not.'

i used to really like defining myself in a set of identifiers, neatly stacked, with squared-off, clean edges.  liberal, feminist, environmental, bisexual, locavore, foodie, woman - yes, that's me.  but, um, no...it's not.

at this point i am finding that the way in which i place myself onto the identity landscape is not to create for myself a title, but to tell people what i think about things.  what followed the 'i don't' regarding my sexuality was a statement about how i am attracted to the energy of a person rather than their gender or sex.  what followed the statement 'i'm not' regarding my political views was a statement about how i am convinced that grassroots and community efforts make greater change than widespread policy, and that i prefer when i can to opt out of the mainstream.

we spend a lot of time creating labels for ourselves and others.  we base it on ideals, thoughts, beliefs, actions, phenotypes...the things that make up who we are as individuals are packaged and stamped with a brand that puts us among others in a group.  it's comforting - for the individual it creates a sense of personal meaning, and places them within a group to which they get to belong.  for others it gives some kind of indication of how this person might behave - it creates predictability, and it helps people to make connections to those like them.  it makes a lot of sense when i think about it.

but there is something for me that has not been jiving of late.  maybe it's a desire to avoid being stereotyped.  maybe it's an attempt to feed my inner ODD teenager's defiance.  maybe it's simply because i don't know what to call myself.  i think about all of the nuance and spectra within identity, compound that with fluidity and cross-sectionality, and simply start to feel overwhelmed.  if i call myself bisexual it feels like i start to lose something.  i could modify it by pairing the label with a kinsey scale number, but that even seems too simple.  it does not strike at the center of understanding that includes the kinds of attraction i have, the time of my life i am in, how i have been in the past, what makes sense to me in the moment, and how i don't want to be seen.  i could go through this process with every identity that may or may not be placed upon me.  in the end i think i'd just rather make statements of thought, belief, and action, and leave it at that.

i am fortunate enough at this point in my life to have friends who are willing to stick with me through this.  that said, there are times when i am dealing with someone who is not close enough for me to share my beliefs.  in those moments i might choose to use a label that can stand between us.  they get to feel like they know me - i get to keep myself to myself.

label as barrier to the self...

i think that another reason i avoid labels is that they can so quickly dehumanize us.  useful tool for dealing with acquaintances aside, labels can readily turn people into groups, and groups into the masses that we 'other' in order to demonize, pathologize, or even kill.  i think about how race labels were created in rwanda, and how that 'othering' played a part in political strife, conflict, and eventually genocide.  i'm not saying that putting a label on someone is a sure way toward hacking them up with a machete, but it does place them one step either closer in to you and away from 'other,' or one step farther into 'otherness.'  it's like the 99%.  on one hand i love that claiming this label stands me in solidarity with others.  it creates a sense of power for people who feel they have none.  it also dehumanizes.  it makes the 1% into evil, faceless, greedmongers who are out to hurt us.  not everyone within this percentage fits that bill, and they are people too.  on the flip side it dissolves the individuality of the 99% while diluting the causes and stories that each one represents.  that's what the placards are for - people trying to assert both. 

i also wonder whether or not i am placing barriers around myself by not claiming a label.  i did say that labels help us to connect with others - and it does so with alacrity.  not being willing to label myself can potentially make connection harder with people i first meet.  if i don't claim a label initially, regardless of whether or not that dissolves my nuanced self, i may not be granted the time with that person to go more deeply.  labels are often the conversation starters - not the end result.

at this point though i am opting for a label alternative.  i come up with some kind of bumper-sticker statement that gives people enough information about me to understand and connect to without conceding to the branding.  perhaps i am disrupting the practice..perhaps i am colluding by simply creating new labels that include a few more words.

at the moment it's working for me.