Assassination... lawful... moral???

So... I find myself at the end of yet another extension in my coursework. Of course, I have not completed all of my work so I'll most likely end up having to retake the class. It just hasn't been the right time.

I decided today, even though I won't have time to complete all of my coursework, to attempt to answer some of the discussions my class had on the subject of Assassinations.

Since the question was authored by my instructor, I won't reprint it here, but perhaps you can deduce its subjective matter after reading my reply.

This issue is much like debating philosophy. There are so many great arguments to either side of the issue itself that it really is just easier to pick a side and go with it. So I have.

Then you have to try and define the terms used in the question... which I did. I'm not sure if I got my point across or not, but hey, I wrote it out in less than 20 minutes... on a stream of consciousness type of style... which is how I prefer to do such things anyway.

I'm sure if I spent more time on it, I could change it all up and make it more argumentative or 'supportive' but I rather am satisfied of my haphazard input.

It is a couple of my opinions, anyway.

I'm interested to see what your thoughts are... if you care to share.

Phoenix.

This is an interesting question in that one would have to define the parameters of morality, which I believe is subject to philosophical interpretation.

Religion is one of the ways in which man has attempted to define morality, or in some respects, has been used to establish boundaries which delineate what is and is not 'moral.'

Laws are also established parameters within a given culture or society, which help to define what is and is not moral. Often laws coincide in many respects to the main religious beliefs of the people in which the laws were created to protect or restrict. Therefore laws in many countries vary.

It can be argued for centuries to come, what is and is not truly amoral to the human race without borders of culture, religious beliefs and geography- and it will be as such.

It's almost impossible to take a simple rational view on this matter without bringing into the debate, ones own morals, possibly established and influenced by the society in which we were raised, or without adding flavors of laws that define justice and injustice, based on, once again, our upbringing in the society in which we have been greatly influenced.

Assassination, defined as the "killing of leaders in wartime apart" being compared to terrorism is a bit of a stretch. Terrorism is most often defined as an act committed against innocents to incite terror among the populace to achieve political or societal effects. It is unlike war itself in that war is usually defined as an act between two nations (or within one nation of two opposing idealogies) which use combative troops or armies to attempt to achieve or affect political or societal effects. Therefore, in my experience and through readings in this course, I've learned to define assassination as an act to induce political gain or political change. Usually this has more to do with one unit of politics which has a desire to supersede the other, or has also been used as a tool for one country to impose dramatic change in another. It is not terrorism and it is not war, by the implication of its definition.

Assassination being the "unlawful killing with intent" is a loose definition although defining it as "murder" is of course appropriate, as murder would imply loss of life at the hands of another living being. That begs the next question, is 'murder' always wrong and at what point do we stop that argument?

Is not a soldier in war, committing 'murder?' Can we technically justify the killing of another just because it's a 'war' and they are 'soldiers?'

Murder is and has always been frowned upon by mainstream religions, and yet, interestingly enough it has always and remains the means in which several of our worlds monotheistic religions has dealt with non-believers. I fail to see how any one religion, during its existence/reign on this earth, can claim moral superiority over any other except perhaps if we were to narrow the observation time down to the most recent century in which a majority of Americans would be a bit confrontational if someone concluded that any religion were superior to Christianity. There again I fail to see how any one could claim moral superiority here. We are at war. Our soldiers, therefore, our people, murder both innocents (unintentionally) and those guilty of terrorism. Terrorists, all Muslim, murder mostly their own innocents. However it's justified does not make it anything but, in the end, murder... the intent of killing a man, by man. Which, interestingly enough, is denounced by religion.

So yes, assassination is 'irreconcilable' in respects to religion, thereby making it as such to morality... but to law and democracy? Not so much so. In our country, it is lawful in fact, through our judicial system often a ruling decision to commit murder, or 'capital punishment', if you will. Through our 'democratic' process, it remains as such. Interesting, if you will, for a country which claims moral superiority over others.

My point is that when you constrict such views down to symantics and definitions, you ultimately end up with circular thinking, likened to a dog chasing its tail. Why are we afraid to say what is the truth? That some killing is justified, as we do so in practice and application. Having an army which does not sit just in defense of our nation but that is used as a tool to justify the offensive defense of our people implies that we are a nation not above murder when it suits our means.

And so it goes with Assassination. Our Statesmen have in fact turned to assassinations as an effective or not, ATTEMPT at achieving an end-state which holds the possibility of precluding war, in which more people will assuredly be murdered. Perhaps our intentions are not always obvious, nor are our end-states, but that is why we elect officials. They are the chosen few elected to make such decisions but in the end are all human and therefore fallible. As are the men who carry out such missions. And as I've iterated before, we most likely have far more failed attempts brought to light and thereby more accessible to pick apart and criticize than our successes. All of this makes the case against assassinations as a viable solution to issues easier to denounce than the alternative idea that it is simply an option. Perhaps not the best option, but an option, nonetheless.

The solution? It would be naive to claim that there is one, such as would be so to claim that there were alternatives solutions to the act of war. I, however, believe that war, as well as assassinations, at times, can be justifiable. I do not deny that there may be alternatives that would be better for measure, but I stand as a testament to the majority of people that inhabit my country that we're not quite as civilized as to be able to settle anything without force when the simple humans elected to attempt diplomacy with other simple humans, fail to do so. Someday, perhaps, our world will be far enough along in evolution to see that murder is a less desirable form of controlling and manipulating 'bad guys' but we're not there yet. This 'age old dilemma' has existed since the dawn of mankind and I'm confident in saying that I believe it will continue on as it has, no matter what we call it, or what religion we use to justify or condemn it.

Family Day

Today is Family Day... which means that soldiers and their families get to go down to the park and spend some needed time together. It's always in summer and it's always a good thing.

Some units make single soldiers go to work on these days. I know of a unit that didn't even get told about it. Our unit has let us go so that we can go down and check out the festivities as well. When I got back from Afghanistan, I would spend time at family gatherings and wonder if I was missing out on something. That fear has subsided. Now, I watch people with their children with a wondering interest. I don't worry about whether or not I need to get going with the family business. I know it will either happen, or it won't... and either way, I'm OK with it. I guess that clock's roaring ticking has subsided for a while. Or maybe it's just that I'm more open to the idea of it all and not afraid of it anymore.

The other day when we went to River Fest, my buddies and me, we stopped by a Sushi restaurant (run by Koreans, of course). It was an experience. We started the morning off with beers and mimosas (for me) then after stopping by a few bars on our mission to hit up as many as we could (ummm, well, it was the GUYS' mission!) we were all feeling pretty warm and fuzzy. Within minutes of sitting down, the youngest owner of the restaurant (a very inquisitive and extremely intelligent two year old) decided to meander over and make himself a place at our table. "Joshua" was a great host and very entertaining to say the least. You would think that four GIs and an Army Girl would have tired easily of the antics of a mere two year old, but I am here to tell you that that wasn't the case at all. He was amazing.

I am proud to admit that he took to me right off, and together we drank hot tea and ate Korean Ramen with cheese and egg. He had his little dish he'd hijacked from one of he guys and I would put a little bit of the soup into the bowl, blow off the heat for him and he'd take small sloppy scoops. He then pointed to my noodles and I went through the same motions... took my chopsticks, got a couple of strands of ramen, blew on them to cool them down and placed them in either his mouth or the bowl, depending on where he directed me. He didn't speak a word for quite a while, but he was very explicit on what he wanted and where he wanted it. You could tell, with a little bit of Korean Cultural background, that he was an only child, and a son. Turns out our waitress was his older sister, but that doesn't matter. She probably helped in the spoiling... err... "nurturing" of this little family heir. In Korea, you can tell the oldest sons and only sons within a few minutes, just based off of their sense of self-entitlement. They really are 'little emperors'.

Joshua was really great. Having him with us was amusing and fun. I think it was great for these guys who'd just returned from a 16 month deployment and haven't been around American kids in so long to have spent some time with him. They minded their language, laughed at his antics and wondered at his being so smart for a two year old. And somewhere in their hearts I think a hole got patched up. Whether they realize it or not.

Being around those children in Afghanistan is heart breaking at times. Children in third world countries and war-torn countries are so very different from our own. No one understands the importance of family and the kind of love that comes with it, than a soldier. And I hate making blanket statements like that, but I really think it's true. Just like I don't think anyone really understands how valuable life is and how important it is to create life, until they've faced death. Whether by a car accident, an illness or a war.

One of my friends said she dated her man off and on for a few years, and then when he came back from his first tour to Iraq, he realized how much she meant to him. Then he swept her off her feet, stole her back from her fiance and the rest is herstory. They are the most amazing couple... and I think anyone in the world would be lucky and blessed to have a love and marriage such as theirs. I hope that this is more often the case for our soldiers. The importance of family is really paramount to all other things, whether it be your own family, or the one you grew up in.

Later...

I went to Starbucks and then had lunch with one of the soldiers I consider 'mine' who's leaving me soon. I'm really going to miss both of the Army Girls I served with. They are, in a way, my family.

So it was appropriate to spend family day with her. Together we called our other Army Girl, who's on leave with her husband. She sounded happy, relaxed and rejuvenated. That gave me a sense of pride as well.

Everything is going to be OK. The world will keep changing, but I'll never forget the people who've blessed my life to this day.

24 June

So, my numbers have dropped again, which is good. I always start to get too nervous when I'm a 'Crawly Amphibian'. Much better being a 'Slimy Mollusk' -ya know?

I've spent the day on the shores of the lake, with good friends and some yummy Korean Barbecue. The weather wasn't warm enough for lounging for a tan, but it was good enough to keep us there comfortably, all day. We even played a game of Scrabble, swung in the swings, and the guys threw around a frisbee for a bit. My favorite parts were the nap and the eatin'!

Friday was a good day at work. It was "Safety Day". That's the day that this Division would usually run a course around various life-sized displays of 'accidents'. Soldiers would be on a crashed boat, simulating that a boating accident had occurred with ketchup splattered all over them and various other props strewn about. They often bring in vehicles that had been involved in drunk driving wrecks, etc. You get the idea?

For some reason this year, they didn't run as a Division. It's a shame too because I remember blogging about how awesome it was to see every soldier in the Division run by. I am still on profile and couldn't run anyway.

The good news I found out on Friday is that we had one of the E6's move to our section. That means I'm no longer NCOIC. Thank goodness. That's a great feeling! The best benefit though is that there's one more person to help take the load off. All of the work still has to get done, now it will just not be as stressful.

Monday is "Family Day" here. For the soldiers who don't have families though, it's a work day. Gotta love garrison. We're hardly working at all till block leave... which isn't too far off now.

I still have no idea if I'm even going to be living here next week. I might have to start out-processing here on Tuesday. We're still waiting for extension orders. It's hard to say what I want to do at this point. I'd love to stay and yet, I wouldn't mind going home and trying to start a new job. I'm ready to catch up on bills and get a couple of things I've been wanting but don't want to buy until more money comes in. Then there's my grandma... If I go home, I'll better be able to afford to help her out. Right now, it would be a struggle. So either way, I'll be ok.

Just hate the not knowing aspect of it all.

Will keep ya updated!

Playing Soldier

Not so long ago, I went to dinner with friends in my favorite little getaway. While standing outside getting a breath of tobacco laden air, I observed two local boys at play.

One was standing tall and proud, ordering the other about in such a way as to take me back to a time in my life. Not the moments of childhood that still haunt my memory, but to a time so few years back when I was being ordered around in much the same way.

"Run to the sign down the street and back, NOW!"

The other boy complied, laughing all the way. When he arrived back, breathing heavily, still laughing, the authoritative companion yelled again.

"If you want to be a SOLDIER, you'd better run faster than that! Now drop down and give me 30 push ups!... No!... Put your feet up there and push!... You're arching your back, your back better be straight!..."

They couldn't have been more than 8 years old.

I didn't know whether to smile or frown. I'm sure I did something that was a mixture of both.

I know our war may or may not be over in the time it takes for these young ones to change their minds about joining the military. I know there will always be wars. Who are we kidding when we try to say that we want to serve now so that they won't have to serve later? We're kidding ourselves. We'll pass on all of this to them, and if it's not this current storm they'll weather through, it will be another or so that's brewing under the surface in this moment.

I don't know what's right or wrong about it all. I wish I could say I'd never been to Afghanistan, or that I don't want to go back either there or to Iraq, but I can't. That's not to say I enjoyed it or didn't, it's just a statement I feel without really having the words to explain. I wouldn't be who I am today. That's a true statement... but I obviously wouldn't miss these aspects of myself I know now. Ignorance is bliss, is it not?

And if I can't answer that question in reference to myself, how can I say one way or another when in reference to others?

Children have always played at war though, have they not? Primitive, or 'childish' concepts of 'good' versus 'evil', if you will. It's not just boys. My sister and I loved cartoons that had the morally good triumphing over the amoral bad. I played "Cops and Robbers" and "Cowboys and Indians" more than I played "House." I suppose some would say that's because I was born in the military and I wanted to be like my dad, but I assure you I doubt I had any concept of what my dad actually did when he went away before the break of dawn every day.

At any rate, I haven't been able to get that image out of my mind. One young boy 'training' the other one for military service. He seemed to know what he was doing and what he was talking about. Wonder where he got that from...

This Summer

It's been a while, hasn't it? Summer... I'm enjoying every minute of it that I can. Life... that's what it's about, isn't it?

My work load has dramatically increased in the past week or so being that so many have left and are leaving. It's a huge responsibility, tying up all of the loose ends and yet still trying to maintain some level of responsibility in my personal life.

I'm coasting on my own set of rapids... seeing the amazingly daunting looking crests ahead, but sailing through them as best I can while remembering the lessons I've learned and trying to apply them. Navigating is not so difficult anymore. Learning to let go and not fight everything is definitely a lot less taxing on my emotional well-being.

I've requested yet another extension to stay on here. This one is longer than the 60 days I thought I was going to put in for. It's double the amount of time. But I have no expectations of where I'll end up in a couple of weeks. I'll be wherever I'm at... as I am where I am now because of the currents that brought me here. We have only so much control over such things and letting go of some of that control and working with the very things I would have normally fought against in the past has given me a small sense of liberation. Ironic, that. That I should give in to get a sense of calm instead of fighting for it so that it always eludes me. I almost want to laugh at myself sometimes.

There are interesting twists and turns ahead that I wish I could expound on here, but to do so would be to assume that I knew mother nature's intent... and I know enough now to know that I know nothing about what her plans are.

Tonight a friend asked me what my dream is. I really couldn't answer that question at first so I tried to dig. What were the dreams I had as a child? Wouldn't they be the most authentic? Some would disagree but as rebellious as I have always had the knack and inclination to be, I would say that in my case, yes... my childhood dreams were pretty authentic. They weren't dreams I came to because they were my mother's. They were dreams I had that were beyond her dreams for me.

I also had a choice tonight... a choice that many would have probably taken the easier route... the one that felt like it was the most desirable choice, the more fun. When asked why I wasn't choosing that path, the only answer I could come up with at the end of it was, "Because that would be the easiest thing to do... " To lose myself for a moment in time, again.

I, of course and as is also in my nature, took the more difficult journey home. No regrets, and certainly no issues but not at all what the majority in my head wanted. Am I growing up? Or am I getting older? Perhaps it's both.

There are not enough hours in the day for all of the things I need to get accomplished. I care not. Such things will either get done, or can wait. The things that are not important will fall to the wayside and that is/can be harsh, but it is the truth.

As far as work is concerned, I've had to remind myself to delegate as much as I take on. After all, this army really isn't about me... so it's not really about me doing everything either. A good leader knows the difference and manages it well. Delegating is not something I have been very good at in the past. It's a leadership skill I'm working on.

This past weekend I pushed my body beyond what I've done in the past couple of months. I tossed about on the water for a couple of days then went immediately to the mountains to commune with nature. My buddies and I had a very relaxing and simple time on the shores of a glass lake, beneath the shelter of trees and by the warmth of a fire. There was a mandolin, guitar and very soothing voices singing songs that will haunt my memories forever. It could not have been anything more than what it was- perfection. Everything about it.

We hiked the next morning and fought the onslaught of airborne and dive-bombing blood suckers. My body was exhausted but I felt exhilarated.

It's awfully late and I'm not tired. But I have responsibilities that need my alertness, so I am going to lay in bed and invite sleep.

I'm perfectly content...

Water Fire Water

I'm tired. I don't feel well. This could be a whiny post.

Today was my first day back at work in a couple of weeks. It's also my first day as the acting NCOIC of our section.

In the time that I've been gone, we've lost a couple more soldiers to PCS moves and a few others are out in training at various other schools.

I had this horrible feeling today, like my head was going to explode. The added stress of all of the things that I needed to get accomplished added even more weight to my shoulders... making them that much more heavy. My body took a beating yesterday while I was out playing. I over did it... obviously.

I was up awfully early for a Sunday morning and decided to head down to the riverbanks and spend some time enjoying the sunrise. I stopped for coffee and a bagel, then drove to the vacant lot next to the whitewater rafting company I spent so many weekends at prior to deployment. I missed that place. I dreamed about that place and reminisced about all of the good times I'd had there, and the bad. There's nothing like dreaming about whitewater when it's 120 degrees outside and the desert doesn't even offer a teasing hope of water. From where I was in Afghanistan, the river was both an oasis and a mirage in my mind.

I'd always felt like an outsider there. The guys like having girls around because girls bring a different mood (eye candy) to the place. These guys have been running the river for anywhere from 5 to nearly 20 years. My first year there, I managed to get into trouble a couple of times. I had a knack for saying things that got misconstrued or were said for the best of intentions but didn't result as such. Those 'talks' from the manager were never very fun and always extremely humbling. I never did 'hook up' with any of the guys, always maintaining a certain distance so as not to draw any drama to myself. Those girls seem to not last very long. They come, they engage, and when the fling is over, they leave. I love that place and never wanted to leave.

This year though I wondered and through that wondering arrived at many doubts as to whether or not I'd be welcomed back. I came to the conclusion that I had tried too hard to fit in there, and had failed. So I didn't go back, till yesterday.

I saw that all the vehicles were parked by 'the base' (as we affectionately dubbed the office) and knew that the guys had been up partying all night. I felt a sad pang of envy as I wished I'd been around. Some were probably sleeping in the rafts and others were most likely sleeping in the back of their trucks, as is river rat style. I thought I could sneak down to the riverbank, listen to the rapids for a little bit, and then head back to the barracks.

Not quite.

As I sat on the banks, I finished off my bagel and closed my eyes. The sound of the water curling in on itself in all of its furor was relaxing. I laid back on the rock and fell into a lucid state. All I could hear was water and birds. All I could feel was the coolness of the rock below me, the slight morning breeze and the weakened rays of the sun, ever threatening to grow too strong for my sweatshirt and jeans. And my mind was quiet for a change. Peace at last.

Unfortunately, those moments can't last forever. I got up, gathered my things and walked back up the trail to my car and as I tried to avoid the glance at the base I, of course, noticed that one of the doors was opened and perched there in a couple of Adirondack chairs was two figures, reading parts of a newspaper. Probably one a couple of days old.

I debated with myself to drive off or to drive up. I knew my car would be recognized and that even if the distant indifference I had imagined was true, it would not have been very cordial to drive off without attempting to stop in. I pulled my car around at the last minute, instead of turning right and left it running as I walked up to confront my insecurities.

I recognized one of them as someone who'd always been nice to me, and the other as someone I couldn't remember if I'd met. He looked hauntingly familiar but my memory is not what it once was and I just wasn't sure. After he introduced himself and we chatted for a bit, I asked about the guy he resembled (whom I knew by his nickname only). Turns out, of course, that he IS the very same guy. Nothing like making an ass of yourself first thing in the morning when you're already feeling sheepish. It wouldn't have been such a big deal that I'd forgotten him, if he weren't the guy that had been my gracious tour guide up in the little mountain town I love, a couple of years back. He was not only friendly, but cute too. When I made the connection, he just smiled a wry smile and said he'd wondered if I was going to remember. Nice. If I'd known him better I would have kicked him for putting me through that agony, but I didn't, and that was the problem.

After I felt that time was getting a bit long there, the manager woke up. He asked me where I'd been and why it had taken me so long to come around. I felt like a little kid who'd been picked up to go hang out with his big brother. Inside I was ecstatic. I told him I'd called and left him a message but hadn't heard back from him, and he said he'd never gotten it. He'd probably thought I was a customer and didn't think much of the message. I did leave a message asking if he knew anyone that would give me lessons on whitewater kayaking instead of more of a 'Hey, I'm back, missed ya guys and when are we opening back up this year?'

My insecurities really will be the downfall of me, methinks.

So the guys told me to go suit up. I had to rush back to the barracks and grab my gear. I had time. Needless to say, I did just that- Came straight home and back as soon as I could... then suited up and headed down the river I'd dreamed about with the strange family I'd come to love but thought I'd lost. My shoulder didn't hurt very much at all. The motion of rowing isn't one that hurts. I can't be thankful enough for that.

It was an eventful first day back.

For the first time on my countless trips down the river, I fell out at 'Cruncher'. I was a none-too-happy swimmer. The "Geek Raft" as our raft is affectionately called (because we, as trainees, provide entertainment to the seasoned guides and trailing safety kayakers who are beyond bored with their customers), was having a difficult time getting back in to surf the hole at Cruncher. The girl sitting in front of me who couldn't have weighed more than 100 lbs asked me to switch places with her. I was sure the reason we couldn't get into it in the first place was because we didn't have enough weight up front, so I switched her, even though I hate sitting up front.

Lo and behold, we made it in, and wouldn't you know... my side first. The water coming back into the hydraulic slammed the raft up against the water coming down off the drop, and the sheer force of that water coming into the boat tipped the far edge up and my side down. The two of us sitting in front jumped to the high side and tried to settle the raft down so it wouldn't tip but I was not able to find anything to grab on to. I grabbed the vest of the girl next to me the first couple of times but in what I thought was a good second, reached to grab hold of one of the ties on the raft. Water being as unpredictable as it is, wasn't playing to my plan and lifted the high side up so that I could do nothing but the smart thing (let go) and over the edge I went, face first (facing towards the sky), feet up, right into the water coming down from the drop. I felt the water hit me and down, down, down I went, completely disoriented. I knew I was being recycled in the hydraulic and I knew I had to ball up to get out of it. I also knew I wasn't letting go of my paddle (lose your paddle, buy beer... well, swim and you buy beer too, so I was pretty much SOL either way) and it was not making things any easier.

I curled up into a ball and felt myself being drawn in some direction. I hoped like hell it was up and not further down into the depths. In another instant I heard yelling and opened my eyes for a split second to see where I was. I started paddling with one arm, towards river left. I tried to take a deep breath as I knew I was still in the fast water and a wave would probably take me under till I was nearer the eddy but there wasn't room in my lungs. I started coughing under the water and as a reflex to the coughing, sucked in more water. I pulled myself along anyway, with my paddle in tow and made it to a rock just past the eddy. After a few violent coughs and heaves, most of the water made it out, and I burped a horrendous burp. One of the other 'geeks' pulled me out of the water before the current could carry me away and I sat on the rock coughing some more. I'm sure it wasn't pretty, nor graceful. Ah well. The river had welcomed me back with little mercy.

We ran the rest of the river and took the boats back up to the base. I had planned on taking my first kayak lesson that afternoon but gave myself some time to get the courage to get in the water back up. I don't know why I did that. I knew I was going back in and I wasn't entirely scared. I just thought I needed time.

Later that afternoon, I indeed did get back in. My coach took me down into an eddy just off the bank and I practiced learning how to roll. It is no easy feat by any means. I could only do an hour. I could only request an hour from him as it was getting cold and he had to drive an hour or so home. I could have beat my body up till I'd gotten it down, but there's a point in time when you gotta listen to your sense and not your ego. I was frustrated that I wasn't getting it, and I didn't feel tired, but I knew my body had to be... and trust me, today, my body has gotten its revenge. I'm beat. Every muscle in my body is sore. Muscles that I don't normally use are sore. My sinuses hurt, from being flushed out so many times during rolling practice and probably from my near drowning.

I'm exhausted. Funny how that feeling of exhilaration can turn on you to become such pain.
You would think I'd had enough... but to be honest, I'm addicted.

We have a name for that... it's "Aquaholic."

I'm more afraid of the water now, than I have ever been. Because of that, I think I'm more drawn to it. I don't like being afraid of anything and when I am, I generally like to confront it. I've heard that some people learn to roll in one lesson and some do so in a few days. Others, never get it. I don't see that as an option. I'm going to learn to kayak whitewater. I have every intention of being good at it. Being a raft guide is different. You are responsible for other people. You have to have a big raft if you want to go down and you can't really do so on your own. So kayaking it is. I can buy my own kayak some day. I won't have to worry about customers but I can trail along as a safety kayaker and help out when needed.

It's good to be back with the guys... part of the adopted in family again.

I plan on heading up to the mountains as well and doing some hiking on my own. I'm tired of waiting for other people to want to do the same things. I'm just going to pick some well laid out trails with high traffic and start hiking on my own. There are too many incredible outdoor things to do around here and if I keep waiting for the right person or people to want to traipse around with me, I'll never get to see them. And besides, who wants to feel like they have to engage in conversations with just anyone? I don't. I'd rather just be by myself out there. I'm not going to use being a woman as a setback any longer -Which is not to say that I'm not going to be smart about it. I will take precautions and not go over my limits.

I have to start saving money. What a better way to do that than to spend my time outdoors rather than on various forms of modern entertainment?

This post was definitely a bit more fun to write than lamenting on my financial problems! Didn't end up too whiny at all, did it?

: )

Grandma

I'm home. Mixed feelings. It's good to be back, but I was rather enjoying the op tempo of the tour. It would be great to do something like that again but I have a feeling that work trips like that only come around once in a great, long while. I think I was just really lucky. Not having any expectations is a great thing too. That way you're not disappointed.

It seems to be really quiet here. I haven't seen anyone around the barracks. Everyone must be out.

I desperately miss the ocean already. I miss the salt in the air and the breeze. Even when you're miles away from the water, you can still smell and feel the ocean. I don't know why on earth I don't live so close to it. I never have though. I know when I leave this place though, I'll miss the mountains... just as I miss the desert that I stubbornly call home. I am destined to roam for the rest of my life, I think. There's no way I could stay in one place for too long.

Somewhere in the back of my mind/heart, I have this dream of owning a house on the beach and one in the mountains... as well as one in the desert. So I can escape to any one of them when I want time to myself. There's nothing like the smell of rain in the desert... or the crunch of the forest beneath your feet... and then, there's the feeling of sand in your toes. I love them all.

Just prior to my trip, I called my grandmother who still lives in the desert by herself. She's surrounded by her family and yet she's completely alone. It is a horrible thing to think about. She secludes herself out there instead of being in a city somewhere where she could get more help. She's tied to that place by memories and haunting dreams of the way life used to be... with a home full of children of all ages and the sounds, smells and hustle-bustle of a life once filled.

It hurts me to think of her there among the ghosts and shambles. At one time, I wanted her to come live with me in my 5-bedroom home. She wouldn't hear of it. I guess in a way, she released me from feeling obligated. If she had come to stay with me, I never could have taken the paths I've taken since then.

Now though, I've realized that she needs help. I can't go back there, I could never live there. Even if I could build her a house right now, she wouldn't live in it. All I can think of to do is to try and get her some help. She needs someone that can take her into town once a week and clean the house up for her. She's getting to be 89 and it hurts her to not be as mobile as she once was. She is so stubborn and she won't relax. She just gets up and goes about doing the things she wants to do, even though it hurts her physically. The mental pain of realizing that she's not able to do the things she once was, hurts her more than the physical pain. And I ache for her. It tears me apart to know that there really isn't anything I can do... but give her money. And even that, right now, I can't do.

Up until this point, I didn't really care that much that I wasn't able to get promoted. I figured if I let it really bother me, then I would be letting these people win. But this is not just about me anymore. I have to get promoted not just because I deserve it... but because I need the money now.

I racked my brain trying to come up with ways to make money. It was easy enough for me before. I could pick up another shift or sell more. Now though, I can't do those things. If I want more money, I have to deploy or get promoted. Or, I have to get out of this uniform and take the civilian job offering a great deal more money. Even if it's a job I don't really want.

I'm going to spend some time this weekend working to readjust my thinking and focus now. My priorities are changing. My friend told me that it's not my responsibility to take care of my Grandmother, but I really don't see it like that. It IS my responsibility. If my father is too much of a piece of $hit to care for his own mother, and all of her sons and daughters are too busy living in their own traps, then it does fall on the rest of us. I refuse to be like them. I have always refused to be like them. My grandmother birthed 10 children not counting the miscarriages. She raised three more that belonged to her second husband and she raised two of her own daughter's children because her daughter chose to live in abusive relationships instead of care for her offspring. My grandmother took in and raised my cousins from the time they were very young till they were old enough to grow up and leave her. All of these children she raised, and no one comes to see her.

It's hard going to see her. It's draining. I look around me and I see so many things I want to change and far too many things that I can't. When I lived a couple of hours away, I'd always take my boyfriend and have him do odds and ends. Cut firewood, cut grass.. whatever. I was always embarrassed to take anyone down there with me because of the way they live... but at the same time, it's a part of me. I will always be a country girl at heart. No matter how city-like I get. Despite that, I always had to have someone with me when I went down there. It helped anchor me. I'm too sensitive and I'd always want to just pack up and move down there to save her. And at the same time, I'd always want to run as far as I could, away from there. That place... that pit... has always drained me. Being so close to my father has always made me want to do nothing but get away.

But there's one thing I know for sure. I will never abandon my family. My mother will never live like that. That's just not how I am.

Several years ago, when I had a lot more money, I snuck off and wrote down all of the utility companies my grandmother's bills were from. I paid them all. Then I set them up so that I could continue paying them. She went and switched them all back. She got all worried that she wasn't getting any bills. She lives off of $60 a month. I didn't even think that was possible.

If the Schwann's man didn't come by there, she'd never get any food. She does have cabinets full of canned goods, but it's 40 minutes into the nearest town to get groceries and she doesn't have a car. Even if I gave her one, she couldn't drive and someone would probably end up taking it from her. She's had multiple eye surgeries due to cataracts and is now nearly blind in one eye. Some crazy doctor she went to told her she was diabetic without doing blood tests and she lost 30lbs (which she couldn't afford to lose) on the drugs that woman gave her. If it weren't for a very nice doctor she's able to see once or twice a year, she would probably have died on that stuff. But being where she is, he's only in town once or twice a month and she can't get a ride to go see him unless it's convenient for someone. And of course, she won't ask for help.

So... I'm frustrated. I want to help but she makes it difficult. All I can think to do is to find some way to come up with the money to get someone out there once every two weeks to help her. Soon though, she's going to need more than that.

My sister and I are going to talk about it some more and see if we can pool our resources and work that out.

I just don't understand why we treat our elderly in this manner. In Korea, it's shameful for a family to do as such. My Korean grandmother and grandfather lived with her oldest son and his family. That is what we do. When my mother is older, she will live with me or one of my sisters... (She has no sons) and that will be the way it is. There's no question. No doubt.

By then, hopefully, I'll be a bit more settled and not be out and about and all over the place... as is in my nature.

So. I was able to put off thinking about that for the better part of two weeks. Now it's back to normal life (if you could call my life normal) and all of the mundane things that can drive me to worry. As is also my nature.

Going to have to sit down and rearrange my finances to see what I can spare. And I'm going to have to start pushing for my promotion... even if it means making some people a bit unhappy with me. It's not right anyway, what they did. So now I have to fix it at the expense of rocking the boat. Wish me luck.

-Just got a call from one of my buddies. Haven't seen him in far too long and wasn't able to attend their welcome home ceremony. I'm off to get ready. I can't wait to give him a huge hug and to see for myself that he's all in one piece...

5 Jun... ALREADY??!!

I'm exhausted. Everyone's getting tired. We work hard and yes, play hard. Working hard for a few days meant playing hard for a few days... but still working in between. Soooo, needless to say, I've had to neglect many of my usual past times.

When you're TDY to a great place, you shouldn't waste time in your rooms. I have little to no access to internet... it comes and goes, and even when I do, I'm just not feeling it. Our schedules are kind of haphazard so it's nice to just veg when you get 30 minutes or so.

I've met some interesting people. I love meeting new people and making new friends... even if they are work friends.

I have so many things to attend to when I get back home and have a printer, fax, etc. Still working on trying to get my new job... but that is proving difficult here. Forget about doing homework because I don't have the brain cells left for it at the end of the day... still want to do an interview but that has to get pushed off due to time zones and irregularities in my schedule. It's just crazy. It's the life I love, and yet, I'm resigning myself to the fact that I am getting ready to have it slow down again for a little bit. I don't want to leave, but at the same time, I need my things around me.

I've gotten a lot of very complimentary emails from people about some of my recent posts. Thank you. I do check my email on my phone and the comments get forwarded there as well. It's nice when I have a break in the day to hear something positive!

To add to everything else, I'm looking forward to getting back and seeing some of my buddies that just got home. They came in on Memorial Day and of course, I was already working. It will probably be a busy weekend with everyone back. Can't wait.

There are still a lot of uncertainties going on in my life right now... but things seem to be coming together. Hopefully, it all stays on course. I could use a break from so much instability.

For all of you who commented on the guy standing me up, thank you too! And don't worry, I'm not talking to him anymore. ; )~ Besides... as I'm sure Lex can attest to, there are quite a few eligible and very interesting boys around these parts! Very, very nice pickin's... I might add!

I will definitely be taking a holiday here with the girls!

Unfortunately, I haven't the time for playing that game right now.

I'm being picked up for dinner... so I must go. Mmmmmmm.... ... sushi!

Back to Actual Work

I am tired. Almost as tired as being back in the mountainous sandbox.

It's been a long day and it's been challenging, taxing and my brief luxury of not having to use too much brain power is over. For a bit anyway.

I'm sitting here at my laptop, a comfortable chair for a change where I can curl up my legs as I prefer to do, a real desk, and a mirror so that every time I look up, I see me.

I see a different me. -An older me. Isn't age interesting? I don't think my looks have changed much from when I was younger, yet I never imagined I'd look as I do now, at this age. The light reflected in my eyes brings out the yellow in them. Pupils small... freckles still visible, much to my disappointment... hair that wants to be alternately curly and straight, which makes for just plane messy, and a serious look. Who is that woman? Where is that girl? Am I really an adult after all?

Enough of that.

The work is difficult but somehow, fun. The area is gorgeous.
I feel as thought I accomplished a great deal today. And that's a good feeling. We all went out for some food next to the water and it was relaxing. Definitely a good change. I didn't think I was going to be able to relax, but it's amazing what a Sex on the Beach can do to cure that. One's enough though... two would have been one too many.

It's still early but I feel the desire to take a long shower, pamper myself with lotion and my favorite fragrance oils of Osmanthys, Plumeria, Freesia with a touch of Sunflower (something I created) and curl up among the many pillows on my bed. I had crazy dreams this morning... the kind of dreams that seem to carry some messages that always elude me as soon as I become conscious. I've gotten really good at recalling them so that I can write them down but this morning I didn't want to risk being late for work.

I realize that I didn't post anything relating to Memorial Day but that's because while the rest of America was celebrating it, I was working. I had hoped to spend that day in Washington DC on the back of a Harley, but that didn't quite happen.

I drove back to base on Sunday and then got blown off on my date. It's kind of amusing though, I can't remember the last time I was blown off... but then again, I can't remember the last time I was supposed to/went on a date! It's good for the ego. Definitely can't get a big head when guys are standing you up, huh?

I can assure you that I have no intention of letting that happen again, for a long while. You boys really should talk to your buddies. Your jerk friends ruin it for the rest of you. ; )~

Working feels really good. It is a great distraction from all of the other things in life. If I'm not careful, I could throw myself back into workaholic mode. There are so many things you don't have to think about when you have all of these other things to worry about and learn. You don't have to think about anything abstract when everything you need to be doing and focusing on is tangible and of this material world.

The shower is calling my name...

Between Words

There is weight in silence. It's that uncomfortable space in between words where a torrent could be unleashed if you allow it to exist too long.

That is one of my issues.

My silences are filled with a great many things when I'm in the company of others. More often than not, I am filling that silence between me and another person with thoughts that are unkind to myself. What is he thinking? What is he feeling? Is he thinking :this:; Is he thinking :that:... And almost always, my mind reverts to something negative and sinister.

It is a disease, really.

So I fill the silences with words... words... and more words...

In my mind, what I am thinking the other person is thinking is always far worse than what is usually the case. I am far more vindictive and evil in my own thoughts than most people are. And this is something that has always tormented me.

I can never handle it when someone says, "I need to talk to you later." I have to know NOW what it is they want to talk about... otherwise my mind will wander through the pits of hellish topics that could come up. Some would say this is evidence of a guilty conscience... I would say this is borderline insanity.

I used to fight him on these things. He, the aloof, used to drive me, the worrier, into tantrums just by shutting me out and not allowing me to relieve the curiosity and torment in my head.

And the other night, he did it again.

Except this time, I was prepared... and had my own thoughts with which to occupy my mind. But I talk. I share. I divulge and I give. He still doesn't. After having given of myself, I felt him withdraw into some darker place... a place where he was neither giving me access, permission or an invitation. I was only terrified that I'd pushed him into it.

I asked him to tell me, as I always have... and he snapped at me, "I know you're just trying to help, but I don't want to talk about it." A knife would have done less damage.

I replied swiftly, "I'm not trying to help you, I'm being completely selfish." I didn't ask him because I wanted to hear about his deep uncovered wells, I asked him because I wanted to make sure he wasn't mad at me for having shown him a part of me that he perhaps didn't care to see.

This time was different though. I gave in to his silence. I asked him if I could hold his hand as he turned the car even further into the dark night. He reluctantly let me. I think he thought it was for him again, but it wasn't. I am completely selfish, you see... it was for me.

I love him in a way that is not conventional. He was a friend before we deployed, but now he's something altogether different. We understood each other more than most people before we left, but it was that same understanding that drove a wedge in our friendship. Who wants to be friends with someone who sees through your facade so easily- Who knows when you're being fake, when you're trying to convince yourself you're not? Looking into his eyes is like holding a mirror with my own reflection. It's not his judgment that is passed on me, it's my own... that I see in the reflection of me. And that is unbearable at times.

He pulled his hand back at one point and I could tell he'd been waiting for the opportunity. I let it go. It was enough for me, that tiny crack which had allowed me to know that it was going to be ok. And after a moment, he reached for my hand again, and exhaled. He pulled my hand up to his lips and kissed it... then gave a light squeeze. I knew then that he wasn't lost to me. That wherever he was in his own world of wells and brick walls, he was not leaving me alone in mine, for good.

We rode home in silence and when he pulled up to his barracks, I walked around to the driver's side and hugged him. He stood there, anchored. I felt he wanted to say something but I didn't want him to say anything. I kissed his cheek and pulled away, wanting to turn and go quickly. He held my gaze for a moment and then said simply, "Sorry."

I asked him what he was sorry for.. and again all of the doubts in my head came back. Sorry for what? Sorry for letting my mind go crazy with all of the possible things he could be thinking in his head? Sorry for not telling me what dark corner he was in or what he'd seen in the well he'd caught a glimpse of? Sorry?!

I can't remember who turned and walked away... but he told me to call him the following day. I got in my car and turned away so he wouldn't see the tears. He couldn't have anyway, but he knows me too well. My mind raced for a while and then finally I was just exhausted.

I hadn't intended to tell him everything. The night didn't start out like that. It was just a dinner with an old friend. I hadn't planned or even considered letting him peer into one of the wells to see my monsters. They are mine, after all. No one else's. But I did. It just happened.. and you know what?

He saw them too. I'm not crazy. They really are there. He didn't tell me as much, but I know he knows. For the first time, I let go and trusted enough to let someone see. He's the only one I know that was strong enough to see my demons. I didn't mean to bring his up.. I still don't know if I did or not. I am not exactly sure what he was thinking, even now.

He didn't try to outdo my story with his own... he didn't try to discount or discredit my experience. He didn't even tell me of his, he just simply let me reveal mine. He shut me out from him, in a way... but by doing so, he let me confront my past without being drawn into his. He's not ready yet and I don't know if he'll ever be. I don't know if I'll be the one he chooses to let in, or if it will be someone else. I can only hope that I'm as strong for him as he was with me.

I'm ok now, with letting him be aloof. It's in my nature to inquire at times, but since he's been back, I've felt comfortable and safe around him. I know his thoughts most of the time, when I'm paying attention to him and not to the critical voices in my head. I know his heart well enough to know that he would never think even a fraction of the things I think he's thinking about me and since I've acknowledged that, they seem to be fading away when I'm around him. I still have a terrible time of it with everyone else... but like I said, with him, I feel safe.

It's still hard to be around someone that sees through you... but it's a lot easier now that I know that he doesn't judge me. He knows some of the worst of me. He knows how capable I am of hurting and lashing out, as he's bared the brunt of my less endearing qualities. And he's still my friend. No matter how much I pushed him away in the past, he forgave me and has accepted me. Friends like that are quite rare. That's real love. Someone who knows everything horrible and good there is to know about you, and still thinks you're a great person. That's unconditional love. I know no other way to describe it.

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