INTRODUCTION:

Welcome to BobKat's Lair ®

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A lair is a home; A castle; A burrow; A haven; a place where one should feel safe. To ensure our safety especially in one's lair, we have laws. And some laws cause more harm than good!

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Time for the awakening...

That is what my goal is here... to present topics which highlight the plight of people. Why, 2000 years after Caesar Augustus, are we still a people being hurt? With all our advancements in technology, medicine, communications, why are we a people still being hurt? Human nature hasn't changed much, but that doesn't mean it isn't time now for that to happen, and it is undoubtedly happening - hard to see however. This blog is part of that change and a witness to it.

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January 26, 2010

Men from Mars, Women from Venus, and me??? Part 3


ARTIST'S GALLERY (Image Source):



I've been thinking. Yes, I know... But I think I bit off more than I can chew on this topic. At one time, I could clearly see what it was that I wanted to say. But now... things aren't as clear and memorable as then, they're more murky and faded.

In my last post, I ended with "Family", "blood thicker than water...". I described "dumping" a girlfriend named Diane. Quitting college, selling my car. Moving upstairs into apartments built over an old horse-barn. I was 18, and on my own for the first time. In a future post I'm considering, I'll tell the story.

Now, my goal is to explore men and women... and where do I fit in?

Where do any of us "fit in"?

The story of humankind, and our gift of consciousness, which to many may feel like a curse. How do we live our lives - truly live our lives? Are we free? Are we really free to choose our own life? What would a hedonistic society look like?

Just thoughts I have. We are not completely free, yet we can make personal choices, and we can get involved in peaceable ways. That gives us a chance, and that gives us hope. Obviously, human interactions from the most intimate to the most global, how we communicate, or love, or assist, or destroy, depends upon may things. We have many ways we join together, and many ways we don't. In many religions for example women are subservient to men, and follow or subject to strict codes of conduct .

Women are people - humans just like men. I learned that by 5 year's old. Why can't civilized societies recognize that?

I came of age during a most interesting time - the mid- 1970's. Hippies were gone, except strongly in spirit. Yet what they opened, Pandora's box, or Cleopatra's, it doesn't matter... what they experienced was passed down to us...

Yes, I did quit college. Yes, I sold my car. Yes, I got a job as a custodian at the community college. Yes, I was in my early 20's and after 8 years of feeling like I was in prison, bullied daily to the extreme to where I was really scared to go to school. But the 70's...

I used the word "dumped" purposely to to make a point. I think it's aninappropriate, derogatory word, a word used by both men and women quite loosely. I think Diane was the last woman I "dumped", at 18...  there was nothing there, no real friendship, no chemistry, no affection. We didn't communicate well... and I decided it wouldn't work. I should have never let it go on as long as it did... but I was a late bloomer, and I had things to do.... and ironically, nothing did, go on.

Not until I met Sue. By then, a year later I was realizing what I wanted was the whole woman in a relationship... I liked women... I liked the way they thought, and the pleasant feeling when meeting a woman that was naturally good natured.

I recall in the mid 70's, leading up to the Women's Right Amendment, that the campus I worked at was very open to equality between the sexes. But here is where I get in over my head.

It all came down to Sex. I never wanted just sex, which seemed like what a lot of men wanted. I wanted the whole woman, and I wanted not to feel like I possessed her. Fortunately, my job as custodial landed me in the Fine Arts center... full of artists, writers, professors of English, and photography, to name just a few. I had the keys to the place... every door. I got to know many people... and found two professor's who became my mentors.

Doug S. and Virginia Y. This topic is for another post, on education, my reason for bringing it up, is Doug introduced me to books... and I'd always been a voracious reader, so I readily accepted the books he suggested - authors like Henry Miller.

I simply had a very bad taste in my soul for "eduction" as in "the system of...". But Doug was able to enlighten me about education, and much more...

I inquired, about how a guy is suppose to  relate to women, and there seemed to be too many games. He said "you don't need to play games... just talk to them, be friends, and if the moment seems right..."

Time I accepted the fact I was okay me, and I  liked women... and it wasn't all about sex, all the time.

Yes... I mentioned family.

Let's just say after I moved in with a woman at 20, and got the job as custodian at the college, my mother was having a break-down. I was completely "off the road". I was a disgrace... and I should I Should..., I should what???

I'm going on 21 and I can live my own life. Shouldn't I?

Oh, like it was yesterday...

 The ultimate battle, between mother and son. I don't think either of us won. But she gave me both a gift and a curse...

What I found were many friends, good sex, good times... I prospered. But I learned that roots, don't stretch too easily... A battle where in essence, my mother's road in life is - the only road in life. For me, it's  theroad less traveled. 

The custodian stint was only suppose to last 3 years... it lasted much longer, brought me to some amazing places. The original plan was to experience this "blue-collar"  job. It's something I dreamed of. And I got the job!!! A job that a good friend took over when I left... last I knew he had a wife of + years, 5 kids, and he always had ganga. A good life.

Almost exactly what my own mother wanted...

The battle lasted many years... and for awhile there, 3 - 4 years... I lived a good life. Three years... enough as it turns out that I would have to on...

So much for "thinking outside the box". What saved me, or what was left of me, were three close friends... Earl, Joni and Mary... Mary was with me. For awhile...




I'm not from Mars... I'm not!

4 comments:

  1. dear BobKat,
    please excuse my keyboard which is funky with the capitals today. i'm tired of fighting it.

    that book, the venus/mars sold millions of copies but i never thought much of it.

    i wonder if you would like jean shimoda bolen's series on archetypes better.

    goddesses in everywoman and gods in everyman are the two.

    other, more personal answer back,
    i struggle with the expectations of those who love me too. i suppose everybody does, but it always seems so extreme if you aren't fitting the norm.

    and yet my lack of capital letters is really bugging me . . .

    ann. T.

    ReplyDelete
  2. To Ann T.

    Thank-you for what I consider a very sincere comment! I actually never read the book, of which title my posts refers... the title alone was enough to put me into a tailspin...

    I will read the book you recommended...

    I am happier your key board was moody and the characters are lower case, if they'd been all CAPS, then I might be unnerved. And you appear to have obviously read a most cumbersome 3-part post, this one, and I almost deleted it I was so frustrated. I'm glad I didn't, because your words touched me. Thank-you.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I had time to edit this post tonight... this says more what I wanted to say...

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  4. Dear BobKat,
    Now that I have almost fixed my keyboard . . .

    It is scary to write for an audience, and more so if it is autobiography. I think even an autobiographical manuscript is safer to write than a blog post, because with a blog you're producing it item by item.

    I sometimes hold my breath when I hit the publish button.

    Also, I think sometimes people don't know what to say. They may read and ponder but do that off-site. The range of feeling is up to them. A blog post is bread on the water, it is something offered to you know not whom.

    But for me it serves the purpose of documenting an internal process, forcing me to look at it as a work of 'literature' of one kind or another.

    So I guess I would encourage you not to worry about anything except 'saying more what you want to say'.

    Good for you!
    Ann T.
    p.s. no shouting, ever, not from me!

    ReplyDelete