All It Takes

Back in January, I quit a job I absolutely loved. Let me give you a little background.

I am a huge animal lover. My degree is in Wildlife Conservation. I’ve interned at a few wildlife rehabilitation facilities and I got a once in a lifetime internship on Maui to participate in their endangered bird breeding propagation program for 7 months. This was my passion for sure. I was even offered a job after the internship was over. However, I didn’t except it. The cost of living was just too high and I wasn’t ready to uproot my land life for island life. Paradise is overrated.

Something New

Throughout my days, whether it’s at work, home, or hanging out with friends, I find myself trying to learn something. There’s always something to take away. There’s also plenty to give.

My days are typically filled with work – from working out, to actually going to the job that pays me, sending or receiving emails, trying to network with rescue organizations, and beyond, I’m always working on something.  I’ve learned a lot from the younger people who work for me…and I’ve learned a ton from the older ones, too. It’s interesting to subjects from another lense.

Forward

This post will probably be all over the place so fair warning.

I spend a lot of time driving. My job is 45 minutes away, one way. Five days a week. I spend a lot of that time just thinking. I think about past conversations I’ve had with people and wonder if I said the right things or if I could have said something different. I often press rewind in my head to review the past few day or two and analyze. For example, last night I had quite an interesting conversation with a friend of a friend. When you meet your friend’s friend, there is usually an automatic impression. Its human nature. We can’t help ourselves. I wondered what he thought of me as I sat there thinking about all of the things I’ve heard and placing it to the face. The content of the topics we discussed were baffling to say the least. Here you have two black people, (and I have to define race here), talking about their feeling regarding interracial relationships. I like to think I’m a general, open minded person. My views are simple. You love who you love. Race doesn’t matter. Why should it? If the person you love makes you happy, that’s all that matters. He asked me how I feel about gay marriage. Same answer. I don’t care what you do in the confines of your bedroom. I hope its sexy as hell because that would make both partners happiest. He tells me he doesn’t like the white race. I didn’t know what that meant so I asked. People with white skin, he says, mainly of European descent. How do you know someone is European descent, I asked. Because I can just tell, he says. Instead of getting angry, I ask, why do you feel the way you feel? He says because if “they” wanted to change the way they treat black people they would. So I asked him, what do you do to change the way people view you. And he felt that striving to become a history teacher and telling the “real” truth would bring about necessary change. I wished him the best.

Can I? Should I? Maybe?

Can I?
Should I?
Maybe?

These are the things we ask ourselves when we’re hesitant in a decision. Can I really change my career? Should I order that dessert that’s calling my name? Maybe I should hold off on that decision until something better comes along. Any of these sound familiar? Why is the natural instinct for choice to hesitate? Why raise that level of doubt when it can be nonexistent? Probably because we feel it necessary to weigh all options before making that choice. Maybe we are in a situation where we need to think before we speak and that one second of hesitation can make a difference between keeping or losing a relationship. Maybe none of that matters. Don’t hesitate, just say it, just do it; you only live once and it will open doors. No thinking. Just instant choices, instant decisions, deal with the consequences, if any, later. I wonder, do you think even those people have a moment of hesitation?

100

I recently started watching the television show on Netflix called “The 100”. The premise of the show is there is a space colony of about 2000 or so people who have made the ship their home because for whatever reason, Earth is no longer habitable. Aboard the ship there’s a Chancellor and a round-table of councilmen and women who decide the rules and regulations of the ship. They have a system set up where if you are a couple looking to have children, you can only have one child. If you have two, and the system finds out, they will “float” either you or your child. Same applies to people who commit crimes. Floating is basically a form of death where the individuals are sent to the air docks and released into outer space to die. There is also a procedure where every once in a while, after analyzing oxygen levels of the colony, if it is determined that the levels are too low to sustain the number of people, the Chancellor can decide to essentially neutralize a subsection of the colony by cutting off the oxygen flow to that area. Once they do that everyone in that area will fall asleep and die and then they float those couple hundred people.

Dying With Dignity

…if there was ever such a thing.

This topic has been at the forefront of my mind over the past few weeks. My boyfriend and I have each learned of the declining health in our respective grandparents. Long gone are the nights with bed time stories, midnight snacks, and movie marathons. Dark are the days that lie ahead with devastating phone calls, worrying parents, and sleepless nights. I know that we are just a few of the millions who are experiencing a situation each and every day.