I appreciate the candidness of the women I'm working with at the ATC (www.atc.org.yu). We talk about taboo subjects such as burnout/exhaustion/NGO tourism, etc. I am allowed to ask questions, to receive blessed permission to not think about sexual violence all the time. To see INTELLIGENT idealism in action, and what action!
But having the most brilliant gorgeous woman look you frankly in the eye over instant coffee and say love and partnerships are virtually incompatible with devoted activism makes me squirm. My god, if she can't juggle it all, how will I? Its possible to live a very complete and meaningful life, but to somehow miss that part. I've seen it happen, and its gradual, and there is no fault in it. There is a window of time that you can miss- and I'm not talking biological clock bull, because I intend to be having sex in my 70's. No, I mean a period of time when you are still flexible and your heart has an imagination that can expand to include another flawed human being into your life dream. I don't want to miss that. But though I'd like to think my desire alone is enough, its not. No one ever thinks they'll be the one who won't find staying-love; we all kind of think we are the protagonists of our own stories, and every good story has some kind of romance.
I desire love and I desire a career synonymous with a cause that I can give myself over to: to be a vessel. But if you volunteer for said immersion does that mean you don't get to be a whole person? I reject that. I also fear it. I fear becoming so focused that everything, and more importantly everyone, becomes problematic- that I become so morally outraged and urgent that I become rigid and unforgiving. I think so far I value balance too much to be truly great at anything, and for that I am glad. A part of me hopes this extends to love as well; that I can exchange lofty ambition for a humble but meaningful life with a partner by my side.
I want it all. I want to care deeply with real compassion, yet I don't want Eve's voice whispering in my ear as I try to sleep about women in the Congo being forced to watch their husbands be decapitated or to eat babies. How do these realities exist in my world alongside crushes and horniness and normal things like eating brown rice every day and making sure I have clean clothes? I want to be able to draw myself a hot bath to relax from endless articles about rape used as a strategy of war, and sink into the hot water mindless as muscles unwind... Instead of picturing Cassie's ex-boyfriend crouched over another bathtub dismembering three limbs and wondering what the hell that means? Is a head a limb? How do people do that? I do this work, though I haven't been raped. I am learning to fear men and that is NOT the lesson I want to take away from this. My fantasies as I walk to the bus aren't about someone I like, but about kicking ass.
We have a responsibility to love ourselves and truly LIVE our lives, as we fight for women to have this opportunity. If I could be a witness in the Congo, stand in front of a tractor or shame the peacekeepers or something, I think I would do it. I would die for a cause but only if I thought it would do some real good. Our lives are not only our own, but belong to those we love and who love us, and perhaps also the people we fight for. So what's the answer? Eve says daily dancing should be mandated. We eat lots of chocolate in the office. I have no answers, only questions.
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