reading Tassina

Tassina, my niece, and I are now reading each other's blogs. I see so much of myself in her. Like me, she is misunderstood and alienated by people in her family who just don't "get" her. I hope that together we can move toward a friendship that will benefit us both. I want her to know that I do understand her and that I care very much about the struggles she has undergone.

There is hope. It comes in different forms for different people. My own hope has come in the form of education, writing, and art. Through those venues I have found who and what I am. I love being a wife and mother, but most of all, who I am is not wife and mother so much as it is a seeker and a maker. I seek truth and knowledge. I make art and poetry, and those creative endeavors put me closer to the truth I seek. I'm tired of trying to pretend to be something I am not, and I'm getting too old to continue to pretend. I am cynical and skeptical and impatient with people who accept others' solutions too easily and quickly. I don't seek answers in the supernatural, but accept that others find solace and joy there. Such solace and joy may be permanent and solid for some people, perhaps even most people, but my doubting nature causes me not to be satisfied with anything other than logic and proof. As a rhetorician, I know that proof will differ from person to person, and I accept that. For me, having tried for many of my younger years to find answers in religious texts and from religious people, and having failed miserably, I know that I have to look elsewhere. Bibles and other sacred texts provide allegorical references to truths that others have sought and found in the mystical. The study of history suggests to me only that the search for happiness and satisfaction and peace are ongoing.

My heart extends to Tassina in her search for who she is and what she is meant to be doing with her life. I don't have the answers, my beloved niece. I only have the questions.