The American Dream

Saturday morning - a lovely morning indeed. A day set aside for errands, for cleaning the apartment. A day for visiting family. A day for doing laundry. I'll take Saturday any day over a week day work day. Oh yes, indeed. I'm not complaining today.

But I am pondering the notion of the American dream. As I sit in my apartment, my hot apartment with no air conditioning, I relish the morning breezes, for I know soon it will get unbearably hot. The kind where you sweat doing nothing, just sitting in your own house. The kind where the beads of sweat form on your upper lip and you wipe it off with the back of your hand. Oh yes, the summer heat, even though we are approaching October. But this is LA. I wouldn't take it any other way.

And I sit here listening to the soundtrack of Malena, the Italian film, I raved about a couple blogs ago. That film indeed touched my heart, and the music from it, continues to move me. It has touched a part of my soul and makes me feel alive in the most wondrous way. I can't describe it. It is like the music describes what I feel in my soul. It puts into sound the way I feel inside. It's remarkable.

So the American dream - why think about this now? I guess of late, I have been thinking how life never ever goes the way you planned. Like me, for instance. Oh yes, education was going to be my way out. I would become an educated independent professional woman. I would drive a nice car. I would own my home. I would be upper middle class, if you will. Oh contraire mon frere, or mon soeur, rather, is what the universe replied to me. Oh life will not turn out the way you thought it would. Here I am, still a member of the working class. Oh my friends, I have not made it into the upper middle class. I do not drive an expensive car. I am not rich. Sure I am a lawyer, but that does not equate into wealth. Oh I have student loans. And I live a very frugal lifestyle, not because I choose to, but because I have to. Don't get me wrong, I like that I'm an educated woman, if you will. I like that I am smart. I value my education and my degrees. I'm just coming to terms with the fact that I have not achieved the American dream. Like many other Americans, I don't have a retirement. If it weren't for my job, I wouldn't be able to afford health insurance. Something I believe all Americans should have a right to. Yes, I'm socialist that way. People shouldn't have to die because they couldn't afford health care, because they didn't have insurance. People shouldn't have to take another mortgage out on their house to pay for a surgery.

I see people, family members, who have money. They can afford to do anything. They can afford to fly to Paris on a whim. And that's great for them. I am not them. I can fly to Paris in my dreams.

Why don't I work at a firm and make more money? Because my soul won't allow it. I worked at the Public Defender's Office and I realized that was not for me. The arguing back and forth, with everyone. Oh not just against the DAs, the judges, but also with court staff that are against you because you're a defense attorney, but also with your client who doesn't think you're a real lawyer. Don't get me wrong. It was an amazing experience. But god, you have to love the lime light, the spot light. You have to relish being in court every day and going to trial, speaking in front of the jury. You have to enjoy the adversarial system. I love criminal law. That is one of my passions when it comes to the legal profession. But I have learned that I love it from a distance. I love it from the seat in the audience, watching one of my dear friends give his closing argument in his defense of an alleged murderer. I love watching the family members in the audience, family of the alleged victim, family of the accused. Oh the turmoil. It's so palpable. I love watching the jurors. I love watching the entire courtroom scene. But as for my days, being in the shoes of the defense attorney, that I do not miss. Oh I believe I'm meant to be a writer. I'm happiest writing down the observations. I'm skilled at feeling other people's emotions, their pains, almost to a fault. For sometimes, it drains me. And I have to protect myself.

I went to law school motivated by idealism and a desire to help people. How naive of me, right? I should have just joined the Peace Corp after college. So as I come to terms with me not making it, not achieving the American dream, the dream that my parents hoped I would achieve, because they didn't achieve it either, I accept my lot in my life. I do what I can to improve it. But I try not to lose sight of what's important in life. The things that don't cost money. Laughter, love, family, friends, cats. Is it really important to own an expensive brand name bag, something I thought I would be able to buy myself? Is it really important to have the expensive clothes? Is it really important to own all the latest technology, the latest flat screen television? What if I can't travel as often as I'd like? Won't I appreciate it all the more, when I do finally make it on that trip I've been dreaming about? Won't it mean all that more to me? Won't I cherish it because I know how long it took for me to get there? Don't I value generosity above so much other nonsense? And I've noticed those with less, are almost always more generous with what they have. And maybe I won't have much tangible stuff in life. But I can always be generous, especially with my heart. And isn't that what's important? Isn't that what will make me happy?