So there's this cool dawn light that strikes after the supposed apocalypse. It's a bit odd. There's something about opening the doors to the Bastille after all the prisoners have escaped. It's a sense of irony.
Pardon any ramblings, I have been a bit under the weather...
Some have said today marked the end of days. But so far I guess that's been a bit of a disappointment. Oh well... I guess that's the way things go. But it gave me pause to share some thoughts on something deeper.
Space has the ability to rip itself and repair itself, it's part of the supersymmetric string theory. Stuff like that has always captured my thoughts.
You can read more about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Superstring_theory
You might ask why I am writing about this... what does it have to do with transgender, life, etc.? Well, more than you might suspect.
First let's take the element of our society that allow us to live in ignorance and fear. Being transgender means that girls, like me, must strive to work three times as hard to get even with people considered 'normal'. I am not "normal", but I am a real, legitamite human being.
But it's part of the greater mystery. As strings may explain and evolve the ultimate framework of our Universe, so the steps I begin to take will define who I am inside and make me whole. It's the steps I need to take. Physicists will tell you they need all sorts of experimental data to prove the Big Bang, the quantum theory, string theory, etc. I don't need so much 'data' but I need to be awakened really. Awakening is life and life begins when you can open up about being trans.
It's not about an open book you can just peek into and get the answers, but the answers are out there. It's not the feelings you hide away, it's the feelings you let go. It's about the sure feelings that will open you up, guide you and deliver you from feeling bad about yourself or who you are becoming.
I had a talk with a friend some short while ago and she convinced me to try dressing in girl jeans around my family. I decided that life is too short to waste waiting on the right moment and the right time. I have to give it a try once and well, what if it backfires?
So I tried and failed... I only failed them, not me. The theory of me still rings true. If I am pushed away and rejected I have me...and my friends...to guide me through. Will it hurt? Sure! Will it have consequences? Possibly. Will it redefine me? Yes!! Because I will not be living in the shadows and lying about me and who I am. I will not be dancing away from my true and inner self.
So it is with strings. They are miniscule, harbingers of multiple dimensions and so I am a harbinger of so many more dimensions to myself as well. It's who I am. Am I tightly wrapped knot of complex dimensions perhaps never to be seen?
Perhaps I am... it's hard to say. Bon Jovi said "I just want to live while I'm alive" and "this is for those who stood their ground" and I have to agree. This is the now and we have that now to propel us forward. Unwinding Samantha is like figuring out strings. It takes a lot of work but it will move me forward.
She is worthy of your friendship because she admires life and friendship and above all she is a friend to those who show her friendship. She is, I think, a worthy girl to know and be friends with. She respects life and humanity. She is above all that nonsensical hate and bigotry. Samantha is the most human being I know.
And yet she's still a recluse. Let me describe: There was a time a while ago when she was tied into a life she hated, being a recluse and ashamed of who she was. Like she was tied to all these hidden dimensions that didn't have much realistic meaning. So she liked female clothes, what did that really mean? She was trapped in the eye of her desire for something she never really realized was out there. She was trapped inside an existence she couldn't really comprehend. She was way out there and there was no way home.
Until one day...
Once upon a time, in the dawn of a transgendered woman's journey (cue Also Sprach Zarathrusta) she made a discovery. She could go to certain places and be happy and meet people who accepted her. She could meet new friends that would inspire her and help her to new heights. I guess she could say she was learning her 'grand unified theory' and she was becoming one.
Like the equations, nothing is ever easy or clear cut. Not everything is written in the stars. But maybe everything is written in our essential matter.
Was she real? Was she whole? In fact, just who was she?
In truth she was a scared little girl, afraid of what the larger Universe might throw at her and how it might end her life. Some have written how being unsure of yourself is unreal, unforgiving and wrong. I doubt there's any of us that have ever gone through life without some doubt, some anxiety, some angst. It's there amongst us, like the jeweled stars scattered across the velvet night.
Now it's a new day and the stars are put away for the night. It's time to awaken to your sense of personal enlightenment. It's your life to live - in the real world and among others who may or may not feel as you do. It's a tough battle to face.
There's this thunderous noise like the applause after hearing a beautifully played piece of music, it's almost deafening. It's the sound of all your thoughts finally settling a little and behaving themselves. It's the sound of a small step towards personal freedom.
The cold light of day is one thing, the hiding away is another. It's not who we should be. We should never have to accept living in fear and hiding away. We should never have to sacrifice our personal well being to be who we are. We should never appeal to insanity to save us. It's not what we are, nor who we should aspire to be.
There's an island, or a world, somewhere where we can exist without fear and without trepidation. It's a long shot to get there, but maybe we will, eventually, get there and find some peace and solace.
It's what I am hoping for. Maybe the superstring theory can make it more of a reality than just hoping and waiting. Maybe...
Peace out sisters! ♥ & hugs!! ~Samantha~
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
Last Night of the World
So my friend Julie writes a post about the Ray Bradbury story 'Last Night of the World'. It caused me to do a lot of thinking, pondering and considering...what WOULD I do if this was the last day of the world?
I guess the most important thing in the whole scheme of what I would do is to first of all, just be me. I'm sure there would be blind panic, people rushing to be with their loved ones, family, partners, whomever they were close with. I'd have to just say that I'd need to take my time to put on my favorite top, corset, skirt and shoes and just go out. I'd probably call my sibling and tell them who I am, deep down. I would probably go to my parents as well. I'd come out knowing that tomorrow we'd not be here. Then I'd try to make it to my friends just because they have been the more wonderfully supportive people you can even know. Sadly I wouldn't be able to visit every one of them. :(
Of course that begets the question: what if it didn't happen?
If science can prove one thing, it can also prove others. There's that moment when things go from climactic panic to somber peace. When things arise in a new day and you take your first gasp of that stinging bitter cold air.
It would be a harsh thing to wake up expecting to be gone and you're still there. Maybe your makeup is slightly smeared from just not wanting to take it off, you might have a run in your pantyhose and hair's a mess. So be it. You are alive to take that gasp of air. The world is still there. Somehow it gives you a cheek-flushing moment: coming out was not the end of the world.
You know you have to face things differently in that case but you can face them with less fear than the hiding has filled you up with. You have less anxiety because you did something on your own that you can live with. You have to live with it. Perhaps you come to accept that as yourself, now the world knows you and you have to deal with that.
And one thing is for certain though, if it were, truly, the end of the world; as me I would be able to at least go dressed softly but to kill, showing off a little leg and being able to know that no matter how unhappy or fearful I have been in life, I am not living in that fear anymore. I have been released and emancipated from the self-imposed jail of fear I had given me.
The prison we sometimes lock ourselves in can be a damning place... worse than anything else you've imagined. There's a supreme beauty in being open about ourselves and living to accept that. I have cracked the walls of that prison but a full jailbreak hasn't happened. It's nice to see little glimmers of hope and dignity, of a happier and more self-assured woman within, dying to let her wings spread and her future to be in control of everything. She has the ways, the means and the power and with acceptance she can even learn the art of being happy.
Julie made me think of the book and think about what I would do if that was really the case. You know I'd never really thought this way before. Way way back in my space-faring days (yeah...right...LOL) I would consider such things but not in this way. Now it's different because, well, life changes the more you interact with it. Back then, I would hide a few pieces of clothes away because I was ashamed, alone and it felt to me like if anyone knew what was going on, it would be the end of the world... at least the end of MY world.
But as I grew older, grew wiser (perhaps) and grew out of that fearful shell I have found that it's now not a few items I fear to have found, I have more girl's clothes of all shapes and sizes, enough panties to keep myself happy for a month with a different style & color and a collection of accessories, makeup, brushes, etc. I am always happy to shop but I am more happy just to have the times I get to be me. That's such a good feeling.
Coming out is still a ways off for me - but I have the fear less and less, the uncertainty is less because I am more open about who I am and have gone out to where people truly care about each other and their friends. They inspire me to create new looks for myself, new fashions, even my first ever complete makeover (OMG I so want an airbrush for applying foundation...they are so cool!!)
So that being said, my last night of the world would be a rocking party. Samantha's time to shine because, let's be honest, she deserves it after being shut away in shame for so long!!
Peace & love sisters - and big hugs to all of you friends out there!
I guess the most important thing in the whole scheme of what I would do is to first of all, just be me. I'm sure there would be blind panic, people rushing to be with their loved ones, family, partners, whomever they were close with. I'd have to just say that I'd need to take my time to put on my favorite top, corset, skirt and shoes and just go out. I'd probably call my sibling and tell them who I am, deep down. I would probably go to my parents as well. I'd come out knowing that tomorrow we'd not be here. Then I'd try to make it to my friends just because they have been the more wonderfully supportive people you can even know. Sadly I wouldn't be able to visit every one of them. :(
Of course that begets the question: what if it didn't happen?
If science can prove one thing, it can also prove others. There's that moment when things go from climactic panic to somber peace. When things arise in a new day and you take your first gasp of that stinging bitter cold air.
It would be a harsh thing to wake up expecting to be gone and you're still there. Maybe your makeup is slightly smeared from just not wanting to take it off, you might have a run in your pantyhose and hair's a mess. So be it. You are alive to take that gasp of air. The world is still there. Somehow it gives you a cheek-flushing moment: coming out was not the end of the world.
You know you have to face things differently in that case but you can face them with less fear than the hiding has filled you up with. You have less anxiety because you did something on your own that you can live with. You have to live with it. Perhaps you come to accept that as yourself, now the world knows you and you have to deal with that.
And one thing is for certain though, if it were, truly, the end of the world; as me I would be able to at least go dressed softly but to kill, showing off a little leg and being able to know that no matter how unhappy or fearful I have been in life, I am not living in that fear anymore. I have been released and emancipated from the self-imposed jail of fear I had given me.
The prison we sometimes lock ourselves in can be a damning place... worse than anything else you've imagined. There's a supreme beauty in being open about ourselves and living to accept that. I have cracked the walls of that prison but a full jailbreak hasn't happened. It's nice to see little glimmers of hope and dignity, of a happier and more self-assured woman within, dying to let her wings spread and her future to be in control of everything. She has the ways, the means and the power and with acceptance she can even learn the art of being happy.
Julie made me think of the book and think about what I would do if that was really the case. You know I'd never really thought this way before. Way way back in my space-faring days (yeah...right...LOL) I would consider such things but not in this way. Now it's different because, well, life changes the more you interact with it. Back then, I would hide a few pieces of clothes away because I was ashamed, alone and it felt to me like if anyone knew what was going on, it would be the end of the world... at least the end of MY world.
But as I grew older, grew wiser (perhaps) and grew out of that fearful shell I have found that it's now not a few items I fear to have found, I have more girl's clothes of all shapes and sizes, enough panties to keep myself happy for a month with a different style & color and a collection of accessories, makeup, brushes, etc. I am always happy to shop but I am more happy just to have the times I get to be me. That's such a good feeling.
Coming out is still a ways off for me - but I have the fear less and less, the uncertainty is less because I am more open about who I am and have gone out to where people truly care about each other and their friends. They inspire me to create new looks for myself, new fashions, even my first ever complete makeover (OMG I so want an airbrush for applying foundation...they are so cool!!)
So that being said, my last night of the world would be a rocking party. Samantha's time to shine because, let's be honest, she deserves it after being shut away in shame for so long!!
Peace & love sisters - and big hugs to all of you friends out there!
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Past Lives Flashing...?
About 2 weeks ago I had this semi-conscious dream - well, I am not sure it was a dream. I opened my eyes to snooze the alarm and as I drifted off into a semi-sleepy state I had this brazen vision.
It was very simple. In my eyes I saw a rapid succession of male faces almost as if they were prior lives. This succession continued for a bit (how long I can't really tell you) but as the alarm went off again the last 'face' I saw was of a young woman.
Now that brings me to two questions: First, was it my past lives flashing before me and showing me what was what? Or was it just a semi-lucid dream? I know I wasn't dreaming in the true sense as I could still feel some physical sensations.
Was it my transgnder being trying to make me 'wake up' and be seen? Was it my mind trying to identify with what I was feeling? Or was I just in the half-dreamland and it was all my imagination?
Since I was somewhat aware, and not totally up on brain physiognomy, I might mis-identify this but it sure was comforting and REAL to me. I had a 'moment', I guess.
It seemed to me as if a succession of male persona's were appearing, ghostly and ethereal, but appearing nonetheless. as parts of me. Some wore mustaches and beards. But the last was a deliciously smooth-skinned girl, very different because she was so tender, so smooth and so pretty.
Was it my mind trying to tell me I was a succession of male ideas but the last idea was that the woman was there all along? Was it just my addled, confused mind in a semi-conscious stupor that said one thing and portrayed another? Was it me seeing something I am not?
Now the womanly image that appeared was nothing like me, dark hair with rounded cheeks, a slightly diamond shaped face and a very youthful appearance. Much younger than I am :(
Was this pretty woman me in a past life? Why would I see a succession of male faces and then hers for no reason. It wasn't a dream, not totally, since I was partially conscious and aware of it. Perhaps it was a dream...who is to say? The girl at the end was unique, she was unlike the male faces that had proceeded her, she was very feminine and mysterious despite she was the last 'face' I saw. I felt she was the most real to me, some semblance of what the real me could be.
But I would say she is 100 times better looking and a million times more passable.
But who is she?
Scientists reckon situations like this as ways for our subconscious to have a voice, to air it's "dirty laundry". Was my inner mind airing that after a string of male 'ideals' the last was totally and truly female? Or was it that I was just seeking some validity, some truth to life that would make me slightly more 'acceptable'?
It's not really for me to truthfully say. Things move so fast sometimes, you imagine that one thing is happening so slowly that when the rapid things happen your mind is ablaze and can't quite come to grips with things... Am I a woman who dreamed she was a man, or a man who dreamed she was a woman? Since going out more and more, I have had more and more lucid dreams, and more and more times I sensed that inner conflict being resolved in a feminine way...
At least when I woke up I still knew who I was! :)
It was very simple. In my eyes I saw a rapid succession of male faces almost as if they were prior lives. This succession continued for a bit (how long I can't really tell you) but as the alarm went off again the last 'face' I saw was of a young woman.
Now that brings me to two questions: First, was it my past lives flashing before me and showing me what was what? Or was it just a semi-lucid dream? I know I wasn't dreaming in the true sense as I could still feel some physical sensations.
Was it my transgnder being trying to make me 'wake up' and be seen? Was it my mind trying to identify with what I was feeling? Or was I just in the half-dreamland and it was all my imagination?
Since I was somewhat aware, and not totally up on brain physiognomy, I might mis-identify this but it sure was comforting and REAL to me. I had a 'moment', I guess.
It seemed to me as if a succession of male persona's were appearing, ghostly and ethereal, but appearing nonetheless. as parts of me. Some wore mustaches and beards. But the last was a deliciously smooth-skinned girl, very different because she was so tender, so smooth and so pretty.
Was it my mind trying to tell me I was a succession of male ideas but the last idea was that the woman was there all along? Was it just my addled, confused mind in a semi-conscious stupor that said one thing and portrayed another? Was it me seeing something I am not?
Now the womanly image that appeared was nothing like me, dark hair with rounded cheeks, a slightly diamond shaped face and a very youthful appearance. Much younger than I am :(
Was this pretty woman me in a past life? Why would I see a succession of male faces and then hers for no reason. It wasn't a dream, not totally, since I was partially conscious and aware of it. Perhaps it was a dream...who is to say? The girl at the end was unique, she was unlike the male faces that had proceeded her, she was very feminine and mysterious despite she was the last 'face' I saw. I felt she was the most real to me, some semblance of what the real me could be.
But I would say she is 100 times better looking and a million times more passable.
But who is she?
Scientists reckon situations like this as ways for our subconscious to have a voice, to air it's "dirty laundry". Was my inner mind airing that after a string of male 'ideals' the last was totally and truly female? Or was it that I was just seeking some validity, some truth to life that would make me slightly more 'acceptable'?
It's not really for me to truthfully say. Things move so fast sometimes, you imagine that one thing is happening so slowly that when the rapid things happen your mind is ablaze and can't quite come to grips with things... Am I a woman who dreamed she was a man, or a man who dreamed she was a woman? Since going out more and more, I have had more and more lucid dreams, and more and more times I sensed that inner conflict being resolved in a feminine way...
At least when I woke up I still knew who I was! :)
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