
full image - Repost: What is your Indiana story? What is your Indiana dream??? (from Reddit.com, What is your Indiana story? What is your Indiana dream???)
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Hello all, and thank You for being here.This is a safe space, and I can only request one major favor of anyone who feels compelled to share thoughts or feelings: do so respectfully. Also, to those who gather information from here, I implore that You use it with highest esteem; with God (or whatever creation force You agree with) as the only true witness beyond our authentic selves, know that any hateful expression is a demonstration of your character, and not that of the person speaking their truth through compassion.There is no right or wrong, only life. Only lessons we have to share with each other in hope that someone out there hears what we have to say, to improve their own life through understanding our joys and sorrows. Malice is only a projection of the internal struggles we grow from, have dealt with, and continue going through, but we are exploring this place around us. Speak with informed purpose. Be impeccable with your words. Avoid taking anything as a personal assault. Steer clear of making assumptions. Supremely, always do your best.First and foremost, this is an essay, memoir, and love letter.I dedicate this to You; to my mother and father, brothers and sister, family and friends, myself; to people who choose this place as their place; to people who have cultivated this land from times of the ancients until this present moment; to teachers and students, fighters, creators, farmers, builders, leaders, followers, and every person in between; to this state that may be overlooked and wild, while simultaneously refining its opportunities into something beautiful.I invoke that we can share our Hoosier heartbeats that so many passionate people hold, to the United States of America. It is with great respect I address this; I dream it inspires that not-so-mythical someone out there, You, to be captivated, and share your own stories.So before we begin, lay down the ego of You, accept that your shadow will always follow You, and be aware of the masks You wear every single day in every single moment; open your soul to past, present, and future You; affirm balance in some form that feels right or left to You.To digress further, I open this discussion to connect so many of the cultural facets that lay in every space and corner; in every hallowed space we stake; in every soul, home, backyard. So please share away, and if You are still reading to this point, may I share my own?My story**:**I have been blessed in this life to spend my days with benevolent folks. Being raised just South of the Kankakee River, I admit, the area I come from has a magical, underestimated quality that people here seem to sing in some unspoken understanding that sits in the air, like the scent of mint in Summertime. Here we all laid our heads to sleep, and in the ground slumbered something even more deep and powerful (fun fact, author of the Wizard of Oz series, Frank L. Baum, used to vacation here back in the day, not even miles from my house).I think many of You might relate when I say, "Indiana as a place, is a sacred ground for what it means to work hard."I grew up having just enough, and my parents, no matter what unresolved trauma they dealt with, always gave it their all; their spirit, their time, their words, to the people who surrounded them with such things. Even then, while money was tight, I know I am fortunate to have grown in this environment as a young person. My heart goes out to every single one of You who might struggle in the absence of such things. As different as reality was back then, its simplicity created something charming.Growing up, my mother always touted, "When the going gets tough, the tough get creative," and “hard work beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard,” coupled with the wise words of her mother, who would calmly remind me in times that I found iniquitous, "Don't get pissy, get busy." They live and have lived these words to infinity, respectively.The nineties were a simple era... It could just be my nostalgia in full effect, but something in the water truly gave it a halcyon glow.... Playing outside in the mud; singing Howard Ashman's (an Indiana University Jacobs School of Music Master's Student) lyrics to every song of the Disney renaissance repertoire; sitting on rooftops next to Highway 421 in Westville and pissing off the neighborhood by gesturing for passing cars and semis to sound their horns; finding wonder in every texture of Earth that we'd then come home to wash off, before eating Casey's pizza and drinking Diet Coke; trips to Indiana Beach to ride every seat on the Cornball Express, and to find my favorite spot (which is the very rear, by the way); watching Nickelodeon for the first episode of Spongebob, where they visited Sandy's Tree-Dome and Spongebob cried out "I DON'T NEED IT."Suddenly, in this place where I developed as an itty-bitty person, the ball was literally about to drop, at midnight on January 1st, 2000, right in the middle of Times Square. I remember sitting with a large group of family, every television in the house broadcasting the event; everyone silently wondering, will we make it through Y2K?And then we did.September 11th, 2001 followed shortly after. The day was an immensely kept secret at school, and upon arriving at daycare, all Hell broke loose. Sitting in a minivan, spending hours in line at the gas station for provisions, packed with panicking kids and adults alike will always stay with me. Again, but with a lot less quiet, all wondered, will we make it through this?And then we did.At this point, my divorced parents decided to both roll with the coming tide; my father was a soft-spoken, yet intense craftsman, who was offered a position at US Steel Gary Works. My mother, his absolute character foil, decided to pursue her education and graduated with honors from Valparaiso University Law School. As finances became less of an issue, I found that something else happened: I spent much more time alone.This new reality found me as a latchkey kid in elementary school. I watched a lot of TV in the time of Cartoon Network’s Toonami. I vaguely remember this magical day when somehow the house started receiving cable without any form of paid service. So, down the rabbit hole I went.I became enamored with Dragon Ball Z, Gundam, Tenchi's Universe, and so many other revered fantasy universes from those days. I read Harry Potter when it first released, and those moments truly shaped so much of Millennial history. I remember tussling with my first grade teacher, who told me I wasn't allowed to talk about witchcraft in her class, and through that struggle, I brought a thirst for the unknown to my friends and classmates.And then, something amazing happened*: My music teacher told me I could sing.* While my parents left me to my own self-entertainment, someone gave their attention, their love, their dream, and passed it onto me. Then I began to wonder, “what does it mean to sing?”I wrapped myself in the wings of ardor; I fell in love with the effect my voice had to soothe the world around me. I relentlessly vested myself in the boon of music upon my soul, and tried to find it in everything the world had to offer.However, the universe works in mysterious ways….As soon as I felt found, I was lost. In this lush corn field, I realized I wasn't like the rest of the lot.... I came to be in middle school what I understood as “gay” (upon retrospect in my current time, also non-binary), and the world was not nearly as informed, nor tolerant then as it is now.I lived a lot of time these days within myself and talking on the phone with my "girlfriends," until the day when one of my long-time friends and first kiss came to my house with her flute.I remember the first moment I held it; I can only describe it as a current of electricity running through me, like that feeling You get when You just know something is right and meant to be. At that moment, I discovered the extension of my voice. Little did I know that this moment of unadulterated passion would create some of the hardest, yet beautiful battles of my life.I voyaged through years in high school desperately trying to find myself again, not only fighting my internal conflicts of shame and sorrow a la man versus self, but trials of man versus society. The world and I were adjusting to my sexuality symbiotically, and the road was hard fought with danger, toils, and snares.In a moment of desperation coupled with the desire to begin again, I asked my parents if I could go live with my grandmother (“Nanny”) in Lake County in order to begin anew, a place that I was convinced would allow me to reinvent during such a vulnerable period.But as we grow, the problems of the world don't disappear; we only become adept with handling them, or escaping them further.I made a whole new world of friends, and learned to embrace myself, like a caterpillar cocooning a chrysalis, getting ready to fly after transfiguring. I learned to shine, but it did come at a cost. I was given too much freedom too fast, which I still pick up the pieces of today… But in the time where I held fortitude to discipline myself directed toward my passion, I made music like my life depended on it. In my free moments, I sought some of the greatest teachers I could find in their respective musical fields, and soaked it in. Unlike Spongebob, "I did need it…."At this point, I was ready to go on to the next phase of experience, in my journey to university. I was accepted to Ball State to pursue a music performance degree; however, not all that glittered was gold. As much as I wanted to become a shooting star, I still didn’t understand how to break the mold of behaviors I established in my early years of raucous freedom. My year away at university was bittersweet... Joining a fraternity, playing with the Pride of Mid-America, getting to reinvent myself yet again, but at what point was I enjoying too much of a good thing????Fast forward to late Spring of 2012, when I came home to a Summer break that would turn into the rest of my life. I returned to NWI for a seasonal position at Dunkin' in Valparaiso, and it evolved into something with much more longevity than I had originally expected.I internalized a lot of shame for not pursuing formal education, and became very resentful of what I perceived to be a major judgment passed from the world around me. I excelled at blaming things on other people and validating personal opinions to myself. I took all of this youthful rage and did what I hope many of the developing adults who are still here reading might do when they experience something of semblance to what I did: I channeled it, and I learned.As much as I simultaneously craved and felt immense guilt over scholastics, my next lesson was about to be presented by the school of life.I spent the next decade in the workforce and had many fantastic accomplishments and relationships come and go, ebb and flow. I managed one of the most well-oiled Dunkin' stores in the Chicagoland District of Marketing and Advertising. I worked and contributed to the third best Texas Roadhouse location in the country during 2017, and held my integrity as a role model. I became a leader and innovator while operating extremely high volume environments, built systems with failsafes, and nurtured them to thrive.I laid the foundation for my musical career from the ground up, despite all the societal odds and pretenses that cloaked me since I didn't have a degree. I traveled to many corners of the country and explored the sights, sounds, cultures, and significance of even the most "plain" places. Upon meeting Kent Taylor, a Hoosier who fought against all adversity with a dream, I learned his story, which is part of what inspires me to this very day. I learned people, their thoughts, feelings, behaviors, what made them tick.Still so angry at my past, I couldn't see what should have been right in front of me the whole time. What I lacked in the form of knowledge from post-secondary education, I still held within myself the whole time as wisdom regarding this unexpected, very real world.We are almost to the end of this essay, so again, if You are still here, Thank You.In the next chapter of my lessons, I became very hopeless. There was a deep longing to have security in my inner world, but never felt that my time was maximized for all the passion poured into every expenditure of it.I was depressed and overly anxious, and started turning to mind-altering substances; falling in with a rough crowd, I became zealously addicted to toxic things that caused me to abandon respect for myself. I felt I had lost my inner light, and was on the road to run; my family panicked; my place in society I clawed for continuously, crumbled. Then, there was a near death experience that I can only describe as sublime now; if everything had not happened impeccably the way it did, I would have found my car and my body wrapped around a tree trunk, and who really knows what would have become of me… I asked myself that same question many years later. “Will I get through this????”And then I did.I’ve reflected on this moment where my soul clung by a quantum to Earth and realized I was "standing at the edge of a sheer cliff; I looked down, then up, and asked myself, 'is it time to fall, or time to fly?'" That moment of understanding life can come down to mere milliseconds of critical awareness made me realize that it is of no guarantee; if we have it, we must do what we can to enrich ourselves and others. Realization hit me… Every single point in my life had led to that metaphorical speck of sand in my Mount Baldy of existence, and I would no longer live with wanton woe and resentment…. I chose to accept my emotions as passing experiences, and said to myself, "Don't get pissy, get busy."It was then that it dawned upon me: I am the only person who can beat the odds of my life. I am the only person who can utilize my autonomy, my mind, body, emotions, and soul, to heal from the shame of the past, and just like me, so are You.We are still only human, but these moments of humbling open our eyes to this... All we truly have is time and space, so what will we do with it??? What will You do with it????And then You did.Thank You to You, the person who has come this far, and who has given your attention in hearing my story, and who keeps giving yourself to others in hope of healing and helping. Thank You to You, who does not go gentle into that good night. Thank You to You, for the reality You give and receive to build a world filled with compassion, and who coexists to make the world a more kind place for those around You**.**There is wonder in every moment that graces us, we simply must open our eyes to find it. We may not share fundamental views, political beliefs, or dreams but we all share this...We are Indiana…. “Don’t get pissy, get busy.”
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