Healing Together, Yet For Ourselves

Just your everyday mom (who also happens to be super cool, ever-evolving and full of love).

Just over a year ago, my mom’s mother died alone in her apartment in San Diego. While she didn’t die of Covid, I strongly believe it was the isolation, loneliness and hopelessness from quarantine that prevented her from having the balance she needed to keep living at 86-years old.

Within days, my mom and one of her brother’s strategized a safe way to travel from Michigan to pack up my grandma’s apartment in San Diego.

Although I was only 2 hours away in Los Angeles, I hadn’t been 100% quarentinning. As 1 out of 3 execs, my role was crucial in maintaining operations of an essential manufacturing company. Not to mention, as a single middle-aged and childless woman, I felt that my work was my identity, my main purpose and my only joy amidst a global crisis. So, just like everyone in those early days of Covid, as the dominos of pain and fear pushed forward with great force and momentum, I simply clung to the only things I could trust: myself, my own safety and my job.

However, when my grandma died, I knew I needed to be there for my mom and family. So, instead of taking some time off, I chose to keep working and just add a little more to my plate. After quarantining, I was able to go to San Diego and say a profound goodbye to my elderly best friend with my mom and uncle. We packed, we shipped, we moved and I Zoomed with all different departments, employees and the President of my company to ensure all kept moving fluidly without hiccups or bumps in the road.

My mom and uncle went back to Michigan and I was now alone again, in my cozy, safe home. Yet this time, the grief settled in. Now that I was allowed to work from home, I clung to a few more things: spirituality, painting, therapy, family friends that were “safe,” and of course, still work. 

Then, a few months later, my dad had a procedure that wreaked havoc on his body. As a Marine Veteran who had served in Vietnam, his body has always had severe pre-existing health conditions. All my life, he had candidly spoke to my brother and I about his death, trying to prepare us for something that no parent can ever prepare their child for. To say that we were terrified by his body’s reaction to such a “simple” procedure, is the understatement of 2020. 

Do I go home? What if I catch Covid on my way?

Since my parents had rented a non-refundable home in Palm Springs for us all to spend Christmas and the winter with each other, we decided it would be best for me to just keep working from home and meet them in Palm Springs. The doctors were reassuring and optimistic that his bad reaction was just temporary. 

So, we trusted the doctors and I got OCD about being careful not to get Covid because all I wanted to do was hug my dad on December 20, 2020. 

By December 15, it was clear that he was not improving and should not travel. My parents insisted that I get out of the city, a hotbed for Covid, and enjoy some desert sun and fresh air. 

I packed my plants in my car like they were my children, Christmas decorations and photography equipment. If I couldn’t be with two of my favorite people in this world during the holidays, then I wanted to have a creative reset. I was ready to finally unplug from work and take some time to connect with my writing and photography.

Life had other plans; I got Covid and it was horrific. 

Alone, in a beautiful desert abyss, I nurtured myself with vitamins, solfeggio frequencies (aka “angel music”), organic foods that I prepared myself and lots of liquids like tea and water.

Meanwhile in Michigan, my mom sank her feet deeper into her personal Catholic faith and found herself in a scary new role as a caretaker, to the man she had admired all her life. 

Long before this ever happened, she has always said, “I am not a Nurse Nightingale.” Much of this was due to her own boundaries she needed to create for her relationship with her own mother.

She also was forced to release her fears over me, her one and only daughter, dying alone on the other side of the country. Not only did she trust me to take care of myself, she trusted that God would also keep watch. Along with my own personal “safety circle” that consisted of my doctor, therapist, boss, and soul-mate friendships.  

Soon enough, she also found herself in awe of Nurse Nightingale’s history, impact and legacy.

Now, as we come up on a year, she is finding herself in need of a little balance. Coincidentally, I also could use a little help, too.

So, we decided to have a safe little staycation, here in California. We are CLEANING, organizing, cooking, laughing, watching old movies, taking long talks and talking about the past with insight. 

Life is way too short and we are seeing that every single day. It’s so important to slow down, embrace our loved ones and take time to just bask in the simple pleasures that life has to offer.

Thank you, mom for kicking off this journey with me.

An Ignorant, Yet Curious Documentary

For the past year and a half, I’ve knocked around the idea of doing a documentary on Lebanon.

My curiosity was peaked when a Lebanese-American friend began teasing me. Telling me that I was a fake Lebanese-American who had never visited my grandparents’ country.

“Why haven’t you been to Lebanon?”

“Because isn’t it dangerous? Especially as a woman alone?”

“Amelia. Who told you that?”

“For starters, the news and the U.S. government. But, also my relatives…who haven’t actually travelled there, either.”

After losing the debate, I did some “research” - aka watched YouTube videos and began to follow beautiful Lebanese people on Instagram (kidding, partially). Reading about progressive initiatives, historic achievements and personal stories made me feel…so many things.

My biggest takeaway was shame over my offensively ignorant perspective. Who knew that I was actually the basic white girl that I had always wanted to be? Luckily, I am very comfortable with ignorance and shame as long as there are a few dashes of curiosity and motivation.

Since overthinking is one of my best talents, I sat with my ignorance for a little while. I also sat with my anger over other Americans’ ignorances. While the details may be different, I realized I was in the same boat as them. Perhaps, my boat was even more dangerous than their’s as I was discriminating against my own genetic history.

Feeling charged to do something positive for the current state of multiculturalism as a whole, I decided that I needed to go to Lebanon and share that story.

My initial idea: a feature that would address the misunderstandings that people, specifically Americans, have about traveling to the “Paris of the Middle East” and examine the reality behind their fears. I figured I could easily make that documentary with a very modest budget, 1 DP, 1 sound person, 1 fixer and 10 days traveling in the country with my dad (a first-generation Lebanese-American who has never been to Lebanon and is definitely scared to travel there).

However, that modest budget would still require financing and producing such an ambitious project on top of my all-consuming day job, it could not be a short-term reality.

I lied to myself and promised to be diligent with pitching the idea to media outlets and see if any interest or support would come from that. Unfortunately, I got stuck in a dark hole of discouragement.

#I haven’t produced a film in 4 years.

#2 I haven’t written a screenplay in 4 years.

#3 It’s been 5 years since I’ve steadily worked journalism.

#4 I have 0 connections and no representation.

#5 No one is going to hand me money to tell my little story.

Don’t feel sorry for me. It’s a trick!

The reality was that my grandiose dream was just a big, cozy excuse for me to hide behind. And I LOVE hiding because I am terrified of everything - like traveling alone throughout Lebanon.

Fear and anxiety have kept me from doing many things. When I share this with people I know, they laugh and think I’m joking.

“But, you go backpacking by yourself.”

“Only to places I know and feel comfortable.”

“But, you do stand-up comedy.”

“Because I’m not afraid of speaking; I’m afraid of engaging.”

“But, you’re a 36-year-old single woman and you don’t seem desperate to get married.”

“Was that a back-handed compliment?”

This whole fear thing has really affected me in ways that I didn’t understand until a few years ago.

From owning my own home and dating men I actually love to pitching myself for bigger jobs and taking career risks, I haven’t just avoided these scary milestones, I have run away from them at full speed.

Oddly enough, worry and fear also run rampant in my Lebanese-American family. Perhaps there’s a connection.

All I know is that after 13 years of hiding behind my work where I create other people’s visions, I am finally ready to take the plunge and create my own. Btw - I promise not to use the "word” vision (often) from here on out.

There isn’t any financing or a crew, so I’ve had to change some bits and come to terms with the fact that it’s not going to be a cinematic gem. And since I’m not doing this for my career, that’s perfectly okay and production will be as simple as possible.

This week, I’m heading to Michigan where I will interview a few relatives about their knowledge of Lebanon, my grandparents, Maronite history and the ways in which the Lebanese culture has been passed down through our American family.

As of now, this is the story plan:

• Story A: My grandparents’ emigration and assimilation, along with their 11 children (loss of language, historic and regional misunderstandings, cultural-identity, etc.)

• Story B: Making the documentary and why

• Story C: Addressing the misunderstandings and fears of Lebanon by traveling there

(Heavy sigh). Yes, this is a very large undertaking, especially, on top of a very hands-on job.

This why I am making myself write about it, every step of the way. If you are interested or no someone who would be interested in participating (interviewees, sharing info, travel tips, contacts in Lebanon, etc.), I would love to connect!

Thanks for reading and stay tuned for some video clips!

An Unconventional Cleanse for 2019

I am alive and well, world.

After a very unsexy mé·nage à trois with a sinus infection and a stomach flu, I feel like 2018 really had its way with me until it harshly slammed the door on December 31.

Although this kept me from getting a lot of things I needed to get done, I’ve learned that sometimes it’s best to not fight the resistance and allow yourself to just go with the tumultuous flow. And when it gets too choppy, hold your breath and swim beneath surface until the storm passes.

In the end, it was a great way to start the new year. Between work overload and holiday madness, I took it as an unconventional and inexpensive sort of staycation retreat. Not only did I lose 7 pounds and detach from unhealthy habits (yeah, I’m looking at to you Instagram and Netflix), but I had the chance to truly unplug from everything, everyone and reset.

Most miraculously, I was even able to hone my mental surge of motivation and use it for my own work, as opposed to my work, work.

From the solace of my eucalyptus-scented room, I began making plans for my biggest project of 2019 - a video documentary. From figuring out logistics and travel details to researching, writing and creating the structure, I’m proud to report that the groundwork is off to a productive start.

Truth be told, even though I’ve been thinking about doing this project for over a year, up until this point I had been quite anxious and unsure about it. How? What’s the real story? Do I try to get financing so I can hire a crew? Can I tell the story myself?

Yet thanks to a few nudges from people around and a very perfect Christmas gift (given by someone who had no clue this would be such an important piece to the film), I have decided to step up to the plate and start swinging.

Even with the small amount of work that I’ve done, I already feel much more focused and capable to accomplish such an ambitious feat all by myself. And if I miss a hit (or, more likely, get hit by the pitch), so what? That’s life and I’ll figure out…

Maybe.

The most intimidating part, and the reason why I chose the above image for this blog post, is that I decided to have Story A’s plot center on the actually making the documentary. This means it’s going to be a long journey of filming, scanning, editing and, most nerve-wracking, recording myself (insert: a very wry grimace).

That’s all I will say for now about that, but keep a lookout for more info; I’m excited to share.

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Feeling such a dramatic shift in my attitude and energy, I wondered if I wasn’t alone in this new surge of ambition. So, why not check 2019’s numerology forecast? I’m not sure how much I really believe in it all, but I was surprised to learn that my initial feelings of the new year were inline with a variety of projections from numerologists like Felicia Bender.

“The universal energy for 2019 invites us into the sandbox, onto the stage, and into the spotlight, and reminds us to play, to laugh, to find lightness in the shadows and to shine our light into the dark crevices in order to bring creative solutions to the global table.”

— Felicia Bender via Refinery29

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The most intriguing part: 2019 is a “3” which just so happens to be my favorite number and coincidentally the Life Path Number of four of my best pals.

Who knows if any of that is true, but the boost of optimism can’t hurt. All I know is that 2019 has already earned my trust.

I hope everyone is also feeling a positive shift in this new year and if you have an interesting story you’d like to share, I would love to hear it!

Happy 2019!