Permanent Ink

Last night I went to a lecture given by Dr. Robert Fuller on something he calls “rankism.” Rankism is defined as abuse of the power inherent in rank. His solution to rankism is to promote a dignitarian culture—a system based on dignity for all. His main concern is that the ever-increasing gap between the wealthy and the poor (somebodies and nobodies) and how a sort of institution of dignity could help those in poverty rise above their situation. Examples of this were healthcare for all, free education for all, etc, etc.  This change needs to come from the highest ranks, with assistance from movements in the lowest ranks.

I feel that an institutionalized system of dignity is required to end the institution of rankism but today I am thinking about what the individual can do if they want to break out of being a nobody in their small situation. Can you effect change over your own situation, or are you stuck in the institution until change comes from higher up?

The person that is holding rank over you has power. Why? Because you need them. You need your boss to sign your paycheck. If you are a child you need your parents to feed, clothe and house you. In a relationship you may need your partner for emotional support or companionship. I think the way to break out is to learn how not to need them. This is not always possible—a five year old can’t secede from their family, of course.  But I think this is possible with both jobs and relationships. And then I think that this shift in your thinking tips some kind of universal power balance and creates a wave of motivation and good energy in your favor.

If you are miserable at work, you might want to examine your finances very carefully. Could you survive a few weeks without a paycheck? Yes? Then you don’t need your boss. Do something about it! Maybe you don’t even want to quit but now you are motivated to speak to your boss about the issues you need resolved. Hey, if you get fired for speaking to him you might even get severance and unemployement, even better. I was “stuck” in a miserable job for years, feeling like I couldn’t get out because I needed that paycheck. Then I realized that somehow I would survive without it for awhile and my mental health and happiness was much more important than being able to have dinner and drinks with friends. I gave myself a “quit-by” date and started earnestly searching for a job. What do you know, within two weeks I found a great position that I’m still happily in. I feel like my shift in thinking helped the universe to line things up in my favor. Crazy? I’m not sure. But it works.

As I posted about previously, I am having difficulties maintaining my sense of self in my relationship. My boyfriend left on a silent retreat for 12 days and I was determined to prove to myself that I could thrive and have a great two weeks without him. And I did. Maybe I don’t need him as much as I thought I did, I told myself. Unfortunately the day he returned, my kitty cat got very sick and my emotions went on a rollercoaster and I fell back to being even needier than before. But this morning I woke up ready to rally and I remembered that I don’t need him. I love him to pieces and he enriches my life in an incredible way and I certainly don’t want to quit, but now I feel much less afraid to ask for what I need and I know that if we can’t make the required changes the world will not end if I am still unhappy and I have to walk away. The feeling is very empowering and somehow I have a sense that this shift in attitude will open up many new avenues for discovering how we can work and grow because I am not afraid of failing anymore.

I never believed I was lucky; in fact, I thought I was unlucky. I could point out any number of things or events to prove that I was unlucky. Then, about three weeks ago perhaps, someone said to me that I lead a charmed life and they wished some of my luck would rub off on them. Well, this was a surprise. Me? Charmed life? Ha! Then a few days later someone else said about some hard times she was going through, “things always turn around if you choose to believe you are lucky.” I really liked this statement so I decided to start believing that I am lucky, that I do indeed lead a charmed life.

Ever since I started thinking in this way I have had many lucky things happen. A friend offered to give me a bicycle she found. Another friend who works for a radio station is putting me on the guest list to see a performer I really love. I hung out with a cool band after seeing them perform a couple weeks ago. My boyfriend left for a meditation retreat yesterday and I can’t even talk to him on the phone for almost two weeks. I was sort of worried about being bored and lonely while he was gone but all of the sudden I’ve got a ton of invites for fun things to do in the next two weeks. Is this luck? Or would these things have happened anyway and I am just choosing to see them in a different light? It’s hard to say. All I know is that it’s only been a few weeks since I’ve been believing that I am lucky and so far I do in fact feel very very lucky!

The morning after pill is offered “over the counter” here in Washington state. However, that does not mean you can buy it anywhere like Advil (which I’m not sure you should be able to do, but I wanted to clarify). You have to go through some hoops. First, you need to get it from a pharmacist. And not just any one at the pharmacy–it has to be someone who is licsensed. I learned this once the hard way. As you may know, the MaP is most effective within the first 24 hours of birth control failure. The pharmacy close to my house only has one person who is qualified to dispense the pill and when I needed it she had left for the day and wouldn’t be back for two more days. The woman there kindly called several pharmacies and sent me one that was about a 15 minute walk away. I had people coming over but I didn’t want to delay getting the pill so I decided to run over there.

At the other pharmacy there are signs that say to form a line about six feet away from the counter in order to give customers some privacy but some creepy guy stood over my shoulder the entire time I was filling out the paper work. There is a strange feeling of shame or something when i have to get this pill. It’s embarrassing. You screwed up. And that’s another thing–they don’t just hand you the pill. You have to fill out a form and sign it and then you have a “consultation” where they tell you what to do if you throw up and when you should expect your period. Then you have to hand over about $50–$30 for the pill and $20 for this consultation that takes about three minutes. They offered to run my insurance to see if anything was covered and I believe I got about 1.25 taken off the price. never mind that a pregnancy probably costs them $1000s of dollars. That’s for virtuous women and the MaP is for tramps, I guess.

all in all it took me about $50 and an hour to get the pill last time I needed it. it was stressful and slightly embarassing and I know I have it 100 times easier than a lot of other women. that’s the worst part i think.

When I was in college I took a class called something like, “How to be a Public Intellectual.” It had a better title but that’s the gist. The class essentially examined and dissected New Yorker/Malcolm Gladwell style essays and attemped to recreate our own. Once I found an entire article (I believe it was in the New Yorker) about the ice ice industry. Ice! But it was fascinating. Now, with blogs, we can all be public intellectuals without having to depend on the New Yorker to publish us.

I am working through The Artists Way, a program to develop creativity. One of the components is writing “morning pages” every day. My morning pages usually devolve into a scribbled angry mess of self-hatred and doubt. It’s starting to make me feel very awful and made me consider quitting the program.

Instead, I decided to start a new, semi-secret blog. I doubt anyone will read this but I will keep it public in an effort to prevent myself from falling into the trap of self-hatred scrawling. Instead my morning pages will be more of my thoughts as a public intellectual. I hope.

If you happen to read this and you have a copy of that ice article, I’d love to read it.

I like Sharpies.
More later.