Civic Duty is Complete

I got up and did my civic duty today. I was among the first in line to vote this morning, in fact. I really enjoy voting in my neighborhood -- Montrose. We vote at the Lovett Inn, a wonderful B&B literally right around the corner. Each year since we've lived here, I've rolled out of bed, thrown on some sweats, and walked around the block to the polling place. This year, I changed it up a little bit since Blu, our boy cat, decided to start "talking" to me at 6:30am. So I got up a little earlier than usual, fed the "kids", took a shower, and THEN threw on some sweats to go vote -- not before starting the coffee, of course. I was still there before they opened. But it's just nice going there. The constituency is pretty uniformly liberal-minded, and predominantly gay or gay-friendly. You don't ever see a sign for or get a "who to vote for" card from a republican -- they just don't even bother with our district because they would never win. Of course, Texas is so overwhelmingly republican these days, they really don't need to. There were pages of uncontested republicans for seats in the judiciary and for small offices most people have never heard of. I just abstained from voting for those as a small way of demonstrating my discontent.

Still, as "nice" as it is to vote there, I have to say that, this morning, I found it almost a little disheartening (and it's not just because they didn't give us coffee and donuts this year like they usually do). I guess sometimes a little controversy is nice. Necessary, even. In a heavily republican district, I could feel like I was rebelling against something, or being, in my way, subversive for being contrary to the local norm. Strange, isn't it? I am a person who generally hates -- indeed, AVOIDS -- conflict; I prefer it when everyone gets along. Or, at least, I think I do. So why wasn't I feeling delighted to be surrounded by people who I'm pretty sure mostly held similar beliefs to my own? I guess it's because the more hotly contested races are just more exciting. In a district like mine, I could clearly see why people can get so complacent about voting. I had to keep reminding myself that "numbers do count" and that it's worthwhile voting, even when it seems like it's pointless.

Do I actually somehow revel in being the underdog? Has it become part of who I am? From my earliest memories, I have always rooted for the underdog, the misunderstood, the downtrodden. I have felt for them on a very deep level. I suppose I identified with them, probably because I always felt a little misunderstood and apart from the pack, too. But have I romanticized the idea of struggle and, therefore, actually visited struggle upon myself in order to feel virtuous or just? I tend to be an iconoclast, and, consciously or unconciously, I do tend to demonize authority and power. Not always, but often.

For many, many years, I certainly bought into the idea of struggle as it related to pursuing my music. The starving bohemian, giving up everything to pursue a dream. Vissi d'arte, vissi d'amore - I have lived for art and I have lived for love... Tosca's great lament. "So, why, Lord, do you repay me like this?" she cries at the climax. I get it. In Amadeus, Salieri, near death, curses God for giving him the desire to make great music, only to withhold from him the talent to do so. Again, I get it. I feel it. I have lived it.

So, I ask myself again, did I translate this empathy for others into a lifelong, unconcious obsession with making my life a struggle, just so that I can also be the "underdog"? Interesting question. Metaphysics says that we create our reality through our thoughts -- what we think of and about ourselves and our situations is what we invite into our lives. If this is so, then perhaps I have done that without realizing it...at least in some areas of my life. Conversely, if this is true, then I should be able to change that, too...right?

Hmm...something to consider and work through. Troy asked me last night why it is that I seem (to him) to be "afraid to step into my own power." I wasn't sure last night how to answer that, or even really what he meant by that. But now, I wonder... Maybe the answer--or part of it-- lies somewhere wrapped up in this issue. If I step into my power, then I am no longer one of the underdogs of the world for whom I have such undying empathy. Perhaps what I'm afraid of is becoming "one of THEM" -- the powerful; the ones who take advantage of the weakness of others.

Pretty silly, when you really think about it. Seeing it in writing does allow me to see a little more objectively my "cognitive error" (as Troy is fond of saying these days -- he's getting a master's in psych).

Yep, definitely something to think about here... See, blogging is good!