I'd do it all again, you know...suffer every hurt, endure every pain.  If I had the chance I'd do it all again....because you're worth that much to me.

Autumn day

The day was perfect.  The air dry now, after being so wet and rainy these past several weeks, the sun shining in a near cloudless sky.  I mostly looked at the ground though, raking up tall grass that had been mowed days earlier.  It was warm enough to dress sleeveless, and the occasional breeze would blow to cool off my skin from what little sweat I worked up. 

I raked the hay up into little piles, then transferred the piles into the big yellow bucket to bring to the garden bed by the old willow tree stump.  I raked and raked, the prevalent sound being the repetitive Swoosh-Swish of the dead grass sweeping up towards me, and as I raked, I thought.  The thoughts circled, at times considering to move towards more practical affairs, more wordly things, but never truly wanting to leave the matter pressing my heart.  In love with a man 8000 miles away, desperately trying to work through hurdles and fears to forge and grow a bond despite the logistical impossibility of the situation. 

We had tried to have a conversation on skype, but just as we again approached a critical junction, the crazy man who wanted to sky dive from space, 125,000 feet in the air, was about to move into action.   The action proved to not be as iminient as we thought, but still, our attention had turned.  So we sat, with images of each other in corners of the screen, watching a man in what was quite possibly the last hour of his life.  Outside it was a beautiful day

Swoosh ---
        --- Swish 

The rake kept moving, the sun kept shining.  The bucket filled to the top - overflowing, and I'd lift it to my hip by the rope handles, holding the overflow in with the rake and trudge it over to the side of the field.  Dump.  It fell out in a mold of sorts, reminding me of building sand castles at the beach.

I considered staying online with him, sitting there, both of us, pretending to be having a conversation.  At times we'd mention a thing or two, try to talk, but there was no point really, we had to wait for the man to jump.  As his capsule started to depressurize and I realized the moment would be soon, I grew uncomfortable.  I did not want to watch a man fall to his death, should he die. I hoped he would live, but who could tell, in a crazy stunt like this?   Considering the delicate state of our relationship, I thought about it, then decided it was bad Karma to sit there, together, 8000 miles apart and watch a man fall to his death.  So I said I wanted to go.   And there I went, to the rake and the hay and the bucket, and the swish-swoosh against the wind in the warm autumn sun.

As I walked to the pile by the garden, the wind would blow little bits of grass out of the bucket to fly away on the soft breeze.  Gentle breeze, now and again, blowing my hair from my eyes, and whispering to me, "I'm here.  When you're ready, I'm here for you." 

Swoosh ---
       --- Swish

There's something meditative in any action so repetitive.  Something soothing.  Generally a place very good for solving problems.  But this was not a new problem.  I had visited this one in many a meditative state before...and no answer had come yet.

The harsh truth of reality seemed to tell me there was no hope.  That we were both fooling ourselves and drawing out the inevitable.  "I don't want to lose him," my heart stated boldly, and the tears welled.  The grass on the ground now blurred to an impressionist painting of greens and browns, almost like camoflauge...  I blinked.   Then breathing in deeply, I dumped another pile into the bucket.  Tears fell on dead grass, and I stood in the warm sunshine, staring into the distance, wooden handle of the rake resting on my forehead.   I noticed little sparkles and rainbows dance around my vision, where the bright sun had turned the tears on my eyelashes into tiny prisms.  He'd be home soon, 3 weeks, maybe 5...no one really knew for sure, but even then, not much would really change.

Swish ---
       --- Swoosh 

There was much more grass to rake then I would manage today.  Still recovering from illness, it felt good to be moving and doing again, but my heart was so heavy.  I breathed deep, smelling the hay.  Images of horses and memories of wagon rides in pumpkin fields and generally all things Fall sprinkled down around my heart, like multicolored leaves.  Somewhere in the distance a lawn mower was running....ah, harvest time, there is always something comforting in that.

I wanted to operate from a place of love.  How best to love in this situation?  Perhaps as friends, but to be friends would require that painful separation period.  No contact, for long enough to truly let go.  I imagined what it would be like....thought of him and the other women in his life.  He may well find himself involved with another, it was possible.  Either way, he'd have more time for the troubled one whose presence in his life was so threatening to me. 

Swoosh ---
        --- Swish

The danger in loving truly, in loving from a place of maturity, is that you do not need the other person, and people do so love to be needed.  And the clouds in the northern sky were a smear of little white blotches against a vivid blue.

"Happy is a choice, right?"  I reminded myself. I think he said that to me once.  Learn to be happy for happiness' sake.  That one I think I read.   Ah...but that wasn't going to happen today.  I'm not quite ready for that one, but still, outside, it was a perfect day.

I'm love and I'm always yours

So it's been a while, and a million and one things have changed...as they do, but...

It's been a roller coaster, things with C.   It got really really bad, pretty close to done, and then we went to Ireland together.  I finally got to see him after 4 very long months.  And it was wonderful, and at times...less than great, but truly, always wonderful.  Because how could we not be in wonder?  There, in that beautiful land that was for him all new, and for me some new, some bittersweetly reminiscent, with rainbows all around, truly how could we not be in awesome wonder?  We were there, exploring and learning and loving, together.  And we were oh so happy being together.

That was our fantasy escape.  A place detached from the rest of our reality, where we could just be happy.  Now we're back to the other reality, which in truth, with him still being in Afghanistan, is not a regular reality either...it's the other extreme.  Instead of being together 24/7, with no stress, and surrounded by beauty, we are apart 24/7, with him under immense stress, surrounded by war.  And I'm here, trying to live my "normal" reality and mantain a relationship that has no definition. 

I thought we were doing well.  Despite everything, I really thought things were going well.  Then some stuff came up, and we didn't really have the time or means to truly deal with it, discuss it, and resolve it. Then some more stuff came up, we both got sick, and now I just don't even know. 

We had a conversation tonight on skype.  It was way late on his end, and he is way overtired and stressed.  But the issues aren't going anywhere, so we tried to fix things.  We talked, for hours, and we both visited angry, confused, hurt, and frustrated several times.  We had to end the conversation when exhaustion overtook him.  Of course, then I also felt guilty.  (Always a pleasant flavor to add to the stew.)

And it's so frustrating now when I think about it...why is it so difficult??!?!  We love each other, very much.  Why isn't it just easy after that?   And I laugh, cuz that's just not the way.    I keep going back to the thoughts about control.  Am I trying to control things again?  Is that where my anxiety lies?  Is it truly fear of betrayal or abandonment that makes me nervous, or is it just that I have no control? 

I was reading some of Terri's old blogs and remembered the time she talked about trying to force our ideas of how things should be onto life.  (It doesn't work, in case you were wondering.)  Yet we still try.  We trick ourselves so that we don't realize that's what we're doing...but it always comes 'round and bites us in the end.  I am replaying the conversation I had with C tonight over and over again in my head...rereading the chat messages, trying to make sense of it all.  It doesn't make sense, the whole thing baffles me completely.  I caught myself saying "this isn't how it's supposed to be" somewhere deep in the caverns of my brain.  Where exactly did I get the notion that I have any say in how it's supposed to be? 

I think what happens is that we practice flowing, and accepting, and learning and growing, and sometimes we hit that groove...and things flow so smooth in the groove that we think we're in control....and then we forget how to flow all over again.

So that's where I'm at now.  I'm trying to take a step back and look at the bigger picture and ask the questions again and see where I'm headed and why.   And truthfully, at the moment all I can see is a big mess.  Ah well, we keep gettin' the lesson 'til we learn it, right?

Found this Rumi tonight:

and just the moment
when you are all confused
leaps forth a voice
hold me close
i'm love and
i'm always yours

 I need to ponder this for a while.

The Prism of God

     I was talking to a coworker the other day and I made the comment, "I'm not a fan of death."  He, being a fan of debate, asked why.  I told him I have fun here, I like living.  He offered in turn, "But when you're dead you get to be pure energy!  Wouldn't that be more fun?!"   But it's different.  So I was driving home the other night...and I started thinking...

     I thought about connection.  Spiritually speaking, I believe all of life is connected.  Some connections are closer and stronger than others, but somehow in some way all life is connected.  Being a vegetarian I get the occasional argumentative person throwing at me, "but plants are alive too!"  I know this.  But I believe their connection to life is different than animals'.   Years ago I read a section of the book, _The Secret Life of Plants_.  It described a scientific study reading the energy signature of plants and found that if you cut a leaf and then took a picture with certain energy reading instruments, you would find that the other half of a the leaf would still appear energetically.  This made sense to me.  Plants are different than creatures.  When you kill a creature there's a very definite line that can be drawn.  5:41pm: Alive  5:42pm: Dead.   But with plants, it's different.  You cut flowers to enjoy them in your home, and they are going to die...but they're not dead yet.  You can take them inside, cut off from their roots and life supply and they will still bloom and grow, and often even regrow their roots.  Except for the case of rerooting, the plant will eventually die, however.  But it's a gradual process.  It's gentle.  I've observed this and came to the understanding in my mind that plants are much more strongly connected to each other than animals are.  Where an animals soul is very specific to its physical home, a plant's soul is joined to all of the other plants of its kind everywhere.  So when one plant is cut, the greater spirit of that plant withdraws gently from that specific physical manifestation and rejoins the greater whole.
     Pondering the idea of this, I drove, and my mind came to thinking about all the different types of people in the world.  Sometimes you meet people that you just click with.  Kindred Spirits.  It's such a wonderful blessing and happy feeling to meet someone you just know you can be friends with.  And then you meet people that you just definitely will NOT be friends with.  Whether it be personality conflict or beliefs or the unknown something uneasy feeling....you just let these people go on their merry way and never give them a second thought.
     My thoughts turned back to the discussion with my coworker.  What is it about this life, all seemingly cut off from each other, so often at strife, with so much negative and heartache in the world, that is still so wonderful?   If when we die we return to the one source, all merging into divinity, why do we come here at all?  My answer used to be, "to learn," and I still believe that, but it's more.  We're like a rainbow.  My coworker's question to me could be answered by simply saying that.  Rainbows, that's why.  Why take a prism and hold it in front of the pure, powerful, complete light of the sun?   To see a rainbow.  To see the whole broken down into some of its many parts.  To see the nuances and the colors and the differences and the similarities and to see the beauty in that.  Of course we're all connected, of course we're all one...but to really see the beauty of it, we need to separate for a while....so shine your color strong, 'cuz that's what we're here for.

"Don't you ever ask them why..."

I think about loving...the active loving, of doing things for the people of your heart because you love them and you want them to be happy and safe and secure and joyful and alive.

And I think about how we as humans are so imperfect at this.  The trying is so beautiful though. Almost more so at times if it fails, because it illuminates how we push ourselves beyond our limits to do things for the ones we love.

    I was home last month for a weekend, visiting the fam'.  One night we decided to get Chinese food.  While deciding what to order, my grandfather asked if they had a vegetable dish with black bean sauce.  He really likes the black bean sauce, and often gets it with shrimp, but wanted to be able to share with me.  I decided to get something else, so he went with the shrimp.  My grandmother had gone to get the food, but realized when she returned that she had circled "shrimp with bean sprouts" on the chinese menu instead of "shrimp with black bean sauce."  A funny mistake, but I felt bad knowing how much my grandfather liked the black bean sauce, so I offered to go and get him the correct dish.  He said no, and not to worry about it...but I thought he was just trying to be nice, and that he really would have preferred it, so I decided to go anyway.
    As I walked outside he repeated that he didn't need it, but I told him it was already ordered.  He said, "I would really rather we just had some beer."   I smiled.   He's not a huge drinker, he used to be, but isn't anymore.  But the beer drinking is kinda our thing when I come home.  I go get some interesting beer, and we split a bottle or two a night, pouring it in my grandmother's little juice glasses.  We toast, I say "Slainte" and he says "Skol," and we have a beer together.
   So as I'm driving to the Chinese Food store after picking up a 6 pack, I shake my head at myself.  My grandfather at this point isn't really too picky about anything.  I think his main thing is just spending time with me, but I was off to the store to get his Chinese food because I wanted him to be happy.  The situation reminded me of two things.  First was Christmas, when I drove all over creation Christmas morning to try to find some sesame oil so that my grandmother and I could cook dim sum together.   The irony was that we wanted to do this thing together, but here I was wasting all this time driving around town to make it happen.  I guess that's the way so many of us do things.  Parents work, having to spend time away from their kids to give them things they need and want.  It's a balancing act I suppose, trying to find the happy medium.
   The other thing I was reminded of was last year when I was home and my grandfather wanted to give me his old grill that they never used anymore.  It didn't quite fit in the car, so we tried to take it apart.  Unfortunately the thing had been out in the rain too often and the bolts were rusted on.  I said I would take the grill, because I didn't have one, and it would be nice to, but it wasn't that important to me. But my grandfather got it in his head that he wanted me to have this thing so he got out all sorts of sawing tools and things to dismantle the old, rusted grill so I could fit it in my car.  Now, this was just months after he was diagnosed with heart disease and told that he should have quadruple bypass surgery, but because of his emphysema it was too risky.  So he's sitting out in the hot summer sun, in the driveway with electric tools trying to get this thing apart.  I kept telling him not to worry about it, and I was getting upset with him visibly overexerting himself, afraid that he might have a heart attack.  He wouldn't listen though, and finally did get it apart.  So I drove home with this grill and it is still sitting on my porch because I have not had the motivation to try to figure out how to put it back together again...I need to do that soon.    I see it and feel guilty that I haven't fixed it and used it, knowing the effort he went through so that I could take it.
   But I guess it's not the point.  The point is we keep doing things for the people we love, because we want them to be happy, but so often it's not the things that really matter, but truly the thought.  The love behind the things.  My grandmother told me a story this visit about how when they were first married my grandfather would bring her home roses everyday.  One day they got into a fight and she yelled, "and I hate roses!!  I like DAISIES!!"   He never brought her roses home again.  She admitted to me in relating the story that looking back, she maybe should have been more grateful.  No other husbands would do that. 
  The whole thing is just so bittersweet it makes me want to cry.  These stories can go on and on. All of us, well...all of the ones I know...we're all just bumbling idiots, trying to do everything we can for the people we love.  Of course sometimes it works!  Sometimes...oh those glorious times...people hit it right on the head, the timing, the nuances, the everything...and it's so fricken' wonderful...but more often than not, it's just the bumbling idiots we are, flopping along through life and trying to juggle a thousand things and take care of all the people we hold dear...and so often falling flat on our face.  But there's a wonderful glory to those moments too.  It's just so utterly human and there is a beauty in that I suspect I will never understand.
  

Maybe not every beautiful day is for me

It's an absolutely perfect beautiful day outside today.  And I have spent maybe 20 minutes outdoors.  I've been talking online, writing, thinking...stressing.  I had two things...well, okay, I always have a hundred things on my to do list, but I had two items that I REALLY wanted to do.  And they're pretty much things that need to be done inside.  So I've spent a large part of the day trying to compromise with my moral standards.  Because I feel like I *should* be spending more time outdoors, and yes, I *want* to, but I also have other obligations and goals and things.  I *want* to be in a place where my life is more stable and organized so that when a beautiful day like today comes along I can just go frolic and enjoy it. But I'm definitely not there yet.  Still on that boat of trying to do too much.

Sigh.

I create these complicated equations in my head of how my life should be, or what it would take to get me to good and happy.  Will I ever learn?

I tried asking my heart, right now, what would I like to do.  And truthfully, I don't want to go outside, it's a beautiful day, and I hate to waste that, but maybe not every beautiful day is for me.  Maybe this beautiful weekend is for my friend who's having a bachelorette party winery trip, or the woman I heard is having a luau party today, or any countless number of people who really needed it to be a beautiful day today.  Maybe it's okay that I stay inside and do the things I need to....without guilt.   Is that possible?   We shall see...

Follow the yellow brick heart....

   So the session was a success.   I only played a few tunes with the group, tried to play along with a bunch I didn't know, but I was glad for going.  As I sat there, listening to and at times playing the music I could feel this huge big sigh of relief in my soul.  This is something I've wanted to do for ages.  At one point when the session leader was explaining something I noticed his hands...they were nice hands.  I always notice hands, and I noticed on this hand there was a wedding ring. As he talked about the intricacies of key and rhythm and reels and jigs I thought about how I always used to be very attracted to guys like that.  How if this was 5 years ago (and he was single) I'd totally be interested. 
    But something shifted in me last night.  I admired his skill, acknowledged my lack of that skill, and (here's the hard part for me...) thought about how that was okay...how perhaps if I had made different choices in my life I might have that level of knowledge and skill with music, but I didn't.   Simple as that. But I still love music, and if I practice every day and make it as important in my life as it is to my soul, then maybe I'll learn and get much better, and maybe I won't need to look elsewhere for that.  Maybe I'll have it in me.
   The other thing I noticed, after I had slipped to the listening side of things, was a mother with her very tiny newborn.  She was an older woman...possibly around my age, and she was alone.  My mind filled with questions and musings on what her story was.  What was an older mom doing here, alone, with a very new baby, on a Wednesday night, listening to Irish music while shushing her baby occasionally?  She was sniffling a little at one point and I thought it was from a cold or allergies, but it very well could have been from tears.  I don't know.  I didn't ask...but I wondered, and part of me identified with this woman.  
    I was scared to go last night, but I knew I needed to.  And following my heart it led me to a good place, and more importantly, a place where I needed to be.  I'm starting to realize there is no end to the journey.  There will never be a finish line, there will never be a trophy.  There will only ever be the little rewards along the way, the plateaus or pit stops where you get to look around and say, "wow, isn't life grand."  And then it's back into the fray, of living and learning, loving and growing.  

The Rage Within

A month ago I requested today off so I could go to an Irish Music Session.  I have always wanted to do this.  I have always wanted to be able to sit in with the other Irish musicians and play tunes and share in the awesome Irish sound that I love.

Years ago I took lessons and learned a bunch of tunes.  I wasn't great, but I thought I was almost decent enough to start going to these sessions.  At the time they were held weekly in town.  But just as I was starting to feel ready, they stopped doing the sessions.   This is a recurring theme in my life, whenever I think I'm *almost* there....the road changes.  But that's another topic altogether.

So I told myself I'd try my best to remember all those tunes I used to know, and get some new ones under my belt so I could sit in with the peeps and play with them.  I had a month to do this...and I did try...but somewhere between the piles of manure, ridiculous allergies, depression, giving up coffee...somewhere in all that I ran out of time.  So here I am, the house is a mess, but I'm not dong a thing about it, and I am playing my flute trying to relearn all these tunes.

And it's hard, no doubt, cramming always is.  But what's hardest is this utter disgust and anger at myself that rises up in me.  When I'm messing up the notes on a tune I knew by heart years ago I am filled with such rage at myself.  Why couldn't I just practice enough to keep them to memory?   Why do I waste so much time when there are real, good things that I want to learn and do?   And the feelings of unworthiness are so strong, and there is so much anger.  Why can't I just focus and get stuff done? 

I had to write this, but now I am going back, and I'm going to learn a few more tunes, hopefully remember more than I thought I would.  I am going to the session and I'm going to disclaim myself and my poor abilities to the fellow players before I join in.  And I'm sure they will be gracious and accepting and forgiving, and I will do my best and it will be fine.  But I've seen the face of this creature.  This dark and vicious creature.  I know its venom.  Can I use it though?  Can I transform it from a worth-gobbling monster into a fiery phoenix of dedication?   That would be nice.  We shall see...

Slow Down!

I've been getting a message lately, repeatedly.  I try to be open and receptive to the universe's subtle signs and hints, but I can be pretty dense sometimes.  I once made a deal with the powers that be...I said if I heard the same song or got the same message 3 times in 2 days, I'd take it as a sign and pay attention.   Lately I've been so busy.  Busy in thoughts, in actions, in emotions....and add to the mix trying to figure out what time it is in Afghanistan at any given moment, and I'm not really sure where yesterday begins and today ends.  But anyway, I have still noticed a definite message. 

I know I started hearing it before this, but when I went to see my therapist for the last time a couple of weeks ago, I flat out asked him for any parting words of advice.  I wanted a bit of the wisdom he found was important throughout his life, and his answer was "slow down."  I acknowledged this and we both laughed.  Easier said than done sometimes?  From my earlier post, you can imagine this is a hard thing for me.  It's not the slowing down I mind, it's the fact that I'm aware my time is limited and there's just so MUCH that I want to do!!!  It's like I'm tempted to try and make another deal....Okay, I'll slow down, just promise me I'll have enough time to do the things I want.  Ha ha...if only life came with guarantees. :D

So I mentioned something to a coworker regarding possible trips I might be going on with C.  His answer?  "Take it slow..." he warned me, "and be careful."  And scattered about my life these past weeks I know I've been hearing this message here and there.  Just now I was flipping through a book that I had lent to someone a while ago and just recently got back.  Broken Open by Elizabeth Lesser.  I was flipping through the pages and stumbled upon this:

      To listen to the soul is to stop fighting with life - to stop fighting when things fall
      apart;  when they don't go our way, when we get sick, when we are betrayed
      or mistreated or misunderstood. To listen to the soul is to slow down, to feel
      deeply, to see ourselves clearly, to surrender to discomfort and uncertainty, 
      and to wait.

"To listen to the soul is to slow down..." Okay....I get it.  As I sit here, knowing I haven't written in too long, again, knowing there's a list pages long of all the things I want to get done this week, feeling sick from allergies and stress and all other manner of nonesense, wanting to do so many things....I hear the universe telling me to slow down.  It makes me want to cry, really, because I've been trying to hard to become the person I want to be, to sculpt the life I want to be living, I've always thought if things weren't working, it just means you have to try harder.  And for me that has always meant, do more.   But maybe the hardest thing for me is to slow down.  Maybe that *is* trying harder.   I let myself consider the notion for a little while.  What if....what if I truly said, okay, let's put all of these goals and deadlines off for say...another year.   I do this and a surge of panic rises up in me.  Another year?!?!! But that's like...a whole year of my life gone!!  A whole year of time wasted when I could have been DOING things!!!

I don't think I'm getting it yet.  I mean....I'm getting the message...loud and clear.  But I'm not convinced.  It's like a math problem, I'll acknowledge that the correct answer is "slowing down."  But if I don't understand *why* I'm going to have a hard time applying it.   And maybe here is where that sneaky little think, Trust, comes in.  Faith, patience...blah blah blah all that stuff.  

I am terribly afraid, that if I let go of my do do do, more, keep going, workin' at the goal attitude, I'll lose it.  I'll lose the momentum, I'll lose the motivation, I'll lose the dream.  I'm afraid I'll become lazy and none of my dreams will come true.   But life is telling me to slow down.  I'm so confused, really!!  Which life lesson is more important?  That hard work and persistence is important, or to slow down?!?!   I'm really not getting it, am I?   

At this point, I've heard the message, and I'd like to send out a very clear response to life.  "Okay, I get it...SLOW DOWN!!!  Just please, tell me where the brakes are????"    And more importantly...how do I slow down without stopping??? 

Wasps and bees and stingers, oh my!

So last night I had some strange dreams.  There are two parts that I mainly remember:

The first was in a house, completely unlike my current house, but I still lived there with my roommate.  I don't remember what happened before, but suddenly the house was invaded by a bunch of wasps, and bees, and all manner of stinging flying insects.   My roommate (having remembered that the realtor told us to purchase one of these in case we should ever be invaded by wasps) ran upstairs to get...The Giant Trampoline!!!  We then proceeded to use the trampoline as a net of sorts to catch all the wasps.  Meanwhile we ran to open the skylight vents to suck them all out.  I checked back on the trampoline at one point and somehow, her dog had gotten caught in it and had passed out from bee stings, I assume....We rescued him though, and he revived pretty quickly once all the bees and things had gotten sucked out the vent.   Weird.

The other part was somewhere else, I think.  I was with some guy...no idea who he was, and I didn't even really like him that much, but I was apparently dating him in the dream.  We were walking around our city and noticed all this crazy construction that had happened basically overnight.  We went from a quaint city with large tracts of undeveloped land to a freakish looking cross between san francisco painted lady housing and disneyworld on austerity meets Vegas.  Everything was large scale and poorly done.  We just kept shaking our heads and I was so upset that they would do this.  There was also a lot of desert like parts from where they had cleared the land, but hadn't yet built anything.  The main take away from this part was my emotion of sheer disappointment and upset.  I said, "if we could, this kind of thing would make we just want to leave Earth all together."

It's funny how when you start to write down a dream, you can remember more of it.  I just recalled a part where i was working at the massage place and was scheduled to give a friend a massage.  I was very distracted the whole day and kept forgetting to do stuff.  Then, after his massage, he didn't really seem like it helped him at all, so I felt bad.   Weirdness. 

Dreams are fun!  I've only recently actually started to be able to remember them at all clearly, I'm happy for this. 

So breaking out the dream dictionary that I have...it says these couple of interesting things;

"To see a wasp in your dream signifies angry thoughts and feelings....If wasps are building a nest in your dream roof this may indicate difficulties with spiritual progress."     
     Well...I thought I was doing rather well with my spiritual progress, harumph!

"Bees...can also indicate frantic internal chatter...Being attacked by a swarm of bees suggests that you may be creating a situaton that has become uncontrollable and that you need to find ways of calming your inner chatter."
     Hmm...okay, maybe....

"Swarms of insects in dream can depict instinctual urges in life...such as sexual urges...may also be suggesting issues to do with pregnancy.  The power of the group can additionally be suggested...might be telling you that you can often only succeed in changing matters by a group effort....might represent being overwhelmed with guilt....If you see a swarm of insects around you, this suggests malicious rumors are being spread about you, but if you manage to...escape, you will find an easy emedy for  your problems...If the insects are flying off, this may represent...the end of a particular problem that has been upsetting you."
     End of problems is good. :)

"According to Jung, places in dreams...such as cities, towns and villages, refer to how your perceive yourself within the commuity, and how well you are fitting in."
     Since the vibe of the city made me want to leave the planet?  I'm guessin' I'm not feelin' the at peace with world thing right now!

Hunh....Interesting.   :)

Chrysalis

I'm struggling lately.  It's odd.  Everything's great.  Except I'm completely disgruntled.  I'm feeling overwhelmed because I want to do *so many things.*  And my time is limited.  Thomas Jeffeson, I believe, said "the way to do many things is to do one thing at a time."  This has always been impossible for me.  For some reason I cannot pick one thing.  Heck.  I can't even pick three and stick to it.  I'm like a kid in a candy store with life and all my interests.  I keep seeing something and getting distracted and running over to pursue that thing..then something else catches my eye and I run back and forth all day, all year, my entire life. 

When I'm asked, I can narrow it down.....sort of.  It starts out like this:  writing, flute/music, pagan stuff, gardening.  And I think that's it..but then I say..oh wait! But I love photography, and scrapbooking, and of COURSE I love to dance!!!   And I want a clean house, and I need to eat, and I love cooking, and I want to hang out with friends...and oh right I need money, so I need a job, so I need a car, so I have to do x,y,z...and oh no! It's bedtime, I'm tired.   It's times like these when I'm thankful that I don't have children...because really?  I would not be able to handle it!   And then it's not enough to dabble...I want to be awesome at all of these things.  But after 34 years, you'd think I'd get the picture....it can't work like that.

So just now, as I'm washing the dishes through my anxiety, I'm trying to figure out what my problem is.  And I thought, "maybe I'm just growing....maybe this is what transformation feels like."  That thought made me laugh.  Because I picture a butterfly, no, a caterpillar, having created this silken womb for itself to transform into something better.  So it's sitting there, stuck in a little ball, in the dark, just waiting to transform. LOL.  And it starts happening.  Can you imagine what this poor little caterpillar is thinking?!?!  Wait...whoa...what's that?  Where'd my legs go?, why do my shoulders hurt...ouch!  oo..it's getting tight in here...um...hello?  are you sure this is happening right?  Isn't is all supposed to be beautiful and rainbowy?  LOL.  Um...how long is this going to take?  I'm hungry....

LOL.  yeah.  It's like that.  

Want is not need, no matter what the heart says.

I am happier believing I have someone who is in love with me.  There is a peace in that for me. Is it wrong?  To want that....to need that?  

Yesterday I had a great evening with friends.  Had a couple of drinks, listened to some great music.  It was  beautiful day.  Absolutely gorgeous.  Before we went out I stopped to get some things to send C overseas.  It was so exciting for me, finding things I thought he'd be happy to get.  I want him to be happy.  I want to make him happy.   Is that wrong?  Is that co-dependent?

I've been trying to be present more.  To really live my moments so I can burn them into my memory and have them for the whole rest of my life.  Part of that, I know, is the active recollection.  As I stood at the pit of the pavilion yesterday, dancing with friends, feeling a little buzzed from the beer, I looked around at all the wonderful people.  There was a family to our left, all standing, except for the young boy who was breaking it down, dancing his own style with total abandon to the music.  I kept watching him and smiling.  I thought of myself and my love of playing music, and how I'm the only one in my family that has that.  It made me smile deeper.  We all have our sparkly bits...the parts that make us different and unique.  I pray that each of us learns to follow those parts of ourselves, and protect them.

And I saw the young and old hoola-hoopin' off to the sides, one girl twirlin' a hoop on her ankle up in the air as she laid back in the grass.  Amazing.   And I turned my head to the right, just in time to see a Dad throw a football across the grass to his son.  And I noticed that the myriad of kids seemed to be wearing all the colors of the rainbow, collectively, like a bag of skittles.  And then one of my friends danced over and asked me about the boy....I told her where I stood, and then as she whipped out a little cut off bottom of a cup with something in it, seemingly out of thin air, she said..."by the way, do you want a chocolate covered espresso bean?"  We laughed at the randomness of it all.  Life, perfectly.  Fluid perfection.  Beauty shining all around.  It was a wonderful night.

And the glory continued today, as for the second day in a row the weather was perfect.  I sent off the package for C on my way to meet my friends and go to a wine festival.  It was another wonderful day of old friends and new, drinking wine and telling stories, laughing about life and love.  We saw funny looking chickens and cows and goats and watched the kids ride the sheep.  And I saw the families all around and thought how wonderful it would be to come to this next year with C and his kids.  I crave that.  Is that wrong??

I didn't hear from him at all today, and that bothers me. Is that wrong?   I guess the better question is can I grow to where it doesn't bother me?  Am I staying small by feeling all these things?   Tonight I've been reminding myself, through my inklings to panic, I do not need him.  Want is not the same as need, no matter what the heart says.  But what if I do need?  Is that wrong?  Is that small?  Does that mean that's where I need to grow?  Because the thing is, I know these past 2 days, and the past weeks, months, whatever....when I'm feeling my love for him strongly, and feeling secure in that, I am happier for it.  It's like a big vice that normally is clenched tight around my heart, is just opened up.  I know I can be happy and enjoy life without him, but to quote Nora Roberts, I want to be "deep down in my gut happy."  And I don't know if I've ever felt that without being in love, and having that loved returned.

I don't know if it's wrong or right or completely irrelevant entirely.  I feel like I need to really get that lesson though, truly feel that I do not need him.  I wonder though, is it possible to reach that happy happy place alone?   I don't know.  I don't know.

Gotta get me some frubbles!!

So in the Wikepedia article on Jealousy I found this:

"Jealousy is defined as a protective reaction to a perceived threat to a valued relationship, arising from a situation in which the partner's involvement with an activity and/or another person is contrary to the jealous person's definition of their relationship." (Bevan, 2004, page 195)

I googled "jealousy" because I was feelin' some and I'm trying to figure it out.  From henceforth I'm going to refer to the guy mentioned in the previous blogs as "C" because trying to define our relationship at the moment is like a logic loop.  Anyhow...so C had this friend who he admitted having feelings for at one time, but assured me that they both decided friendship was best for them.  Recently he had a falling out with this woman and they were not speaking.  Today, after a long distance skype session leaving me warm and fuzzy from getting to see and speak to him overseas, I hopped on Facebook and was informed that this woman commented on a post of his I had liked.  Enter Jealousy.  All manner of questions race through my mind and suspicions and fears and etc etc..you get the picture.

But I'm sitting here, reminding myself of the reality of the situation and the reasons I refuse to commit at the moment, and am torn between the way I love him, and what I'm afraid of.   Hmmm...what am I afraid of?  When I type it out like that, the dichotomy...it highlights something.  I'm torn between the way I love him, and what I'm afraid of......I'm afraid that my love is a lie.  That who I think he is, is a lie.  That I am putting my trust and heart into something false.    What is it in me that makes me so afraid that I am being lied to?   I'd like to blame past experiences, but I think it goes deeper, because I've had many past experiences that were good.  Maybe it's more of that control stuff...  Probably, because once one thing happens I kinda start on this downward spiral, and suddenly every comment and every hesitation I start being suspicious of.  It's ridiculous, but how do I tell the difference between intuition which I should pay attention to and plain ol' paranoia?

Either way, when I read that definition I notice two things: 1. "perceived" and 2. "definiton of their relationship." Truly this unpleasant emotion has everything to do with my mind and assumptions and understandings.  And when I see this I am reminded to ask myself, "how do I define this relationship?"  That is where I'm torn, it's a very much undefined relationship, too many variables, every one of them in flux.  But my love wants to go deeper, my love wants to follow this, but I need to take it unbearably slow.   I need to work with it more because I can't quite figure it out at the moment...but I think I'm on the right path.  We shall see!

Mental Indigestion

I haven't been writing.  But I've been thinking, that's for sure....so much thinking.  So many thoughts and emotions and swirly internal funness....which the red squiggly snake reminds me is *not* a word...but I like to expand his horizons. ;)  

I have been quite overwhelmed with it all, and I am keenly aware of this, and I have a very strong suspicion it's because I haven't been writing.  So I guess it's a good platform to test out this "creativity is essential not invetible thing..."  I've taken in so much lately, reading, watching youtube videos of different peeps talking about their ideas of love and life and fear and living....I've taken in so much, and I keep thinking, "oh, I need to blog about that."  But I've also been deeply involved in the living thing, sharing and experiencing and laughing and loving, so I haven't had the time to blog.  The thing is, though, I've noticed my mind is scattered.  I keep forgetting things, I can't think straight often, and while part of me is freaked out and is ready to get tested for all manner of conditions, a deeper part of me is saying,  "shh...of course you can't think straight, you're all filled up, and you need to express." 

I guess eating is the best analogy.  You've got to eat to survive, but what you eat, how much you eat, all these things affect how well you live.  And then you have to remember that you can shove a whole pile of the healthiest food in the world down your gullet, but you still have to let your body digest.  And yes, then there's the other end of the process....but I think this is where the analogy falters.  When it comes to living and growing I think the assimilation of good occurs in the same way the releasing of bad does.  In the body, it goes: digestion, assimilation, then whatever is left is waste.  In the soul though, the "digestion" sorts it all, sitting with an experience, mulling it over...but the expression is the vehicle for both assimilation and elimination, and that's why it is essential.   

I'm feeling better already, even having this little bit of time to get some of these thoughts out feels like it's helping already.  There's still a lot more, of course, but hopefully I'll catch up to it all this weekend.  Today I'm allowing myself to do whatever.  Oh, there's plenty that needs to be done, but I'm totally giving myself permission to not do a darn thing if I don't feel like it. :) I know I'll get a bunch of stuff done, but it's more important for me to allow myself the freedom right now...so...we'll see. :)

Into the Uncharted

Today was a good day.  My grandmother, having taken a long train ride down by herself, is here to visit me for the weekend.  She is such an amazing woman.  The day started with my roommate and I listening to my grandmother's stories of countless recent day trips she's gone on while we all ate breakfast. My roommate commented on how amazing it was that she remembered all these tiny details about these trips, some of which were years ago by now.  I agreed, and added that she's always been like that.  She's a story teller by nature.  I suppose to be a story teller you have to notice and remember details.  And to do all of that you have to be present.  That is key.

I am reminded of a passage in a book..I think it is in Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, but I'm not sure. She is talking about how important it is to notice things.  She relates a story about her grandmother and how she was always suffering the consequences of living a life married to an irresponsible, wild husband.  Her mother would always ask, "how do you do it?" but she realized the better question would have been "why?"  Because the how was in her living in the present and noticing the details.  By observing things like the blooming of flowers and the arrival of new birds, and being present in her life, she was able to survive the stresses of  the imperfect relationship she was in.  The why was another matter left undiscussed...

I've always admired my grandmother...well, perhaps that's not exactly true because at 13 I was pretty wild myself, at least in spirit.  Although I was a "good kid"  I didn't like to be told what to do, or more importantly what *not* to do.  We had many, many fights.  But I have always respected her, although probably to outsiders it may not have seemed that way, and I definitely always loved her, although at times I also hated her.  But since I outgrew my adolescence and gained my independence, my respect for her was able to come to the foreground.  She is such an amazing woman.  I won't go into all the reasons why at this time.  I'll leave that for another day so I can truly do it justice.  Suffice to say, it is wonderful to have her here, but there are bittersweet notes to it all.

Anyway...this morning I had to call the library to renew a book, which is a 7day loaner, but I've had it for 5 months, apparently.  Every week I've called the library to renew it. I haven't had much spare time to read lately and it's a pretty long book.  And every week the librarian that answered the phone happily and politely renewed the book for another 7 days.  There were times when I was late in calling and I paid the fines for that.  But never once, in 5 months...which means approximately 20 phone calls has anyone even suggested to me that I need to bring the book back.  The other library I go to has told me after a single renewal that I had to bring the book in to physically renew it the second time.  But not this library..I just assumed that it was a smaller library with less rules.  Smaller library yes, but apparently it's not the rules that were lacking, but the librarians' knowledge or desire to enforce them.

So today was the lucky day that I got the librarian with a clue on the phone.  After much chat and explaining of the rules, I told her, "that's fine, I understand, I have no problem with that, I'll bring it back, I'd just like to know how long will I have to wait before I can take it out again because I'm not done with it?"  To which she replied, "I'd rather you never take it out again at all."  Wow.  That sounded pretty personal.  She explained to me that it was a new book, and supposed to remain on the main shelf, and that they evaluate books after 6 months of having them to see how circulated they were to determine whether or not to keep them.  This too, I completely understood, and told her I'd bring the book back.

After getting off the phone I relayed the story to my roommate and grandmother and my anger at her comment started to grow.  It was ridiculous, no doubt.  Such a totally out of line thing to say...but I was getting *really* angry about it.  I noticed this and tried to figure out why, but couldn't.  I just shrugged it off, figured I'd make my point when I dropped the book off and move on.  However, when my grandmother and I went inside and I returned the book, trying to confront the woman about her rude comment, I was shaking and on the verge of tears.  I was filled with so much...anger...I suppose...something...some emotion was filling me to the point of shaking and crying.  Thankfully the woman was not angry back, although I have a feeling I would have preferred a shouting match, but she offered an alternative that seemed helpful and we left peacefully. When I got back to the car I actually couldn't help but cry.  It didn't last long, but my tears came unbidden and I still can't quite fathom why.  What about this seemingly silly, meaningless incident was so upsetting for me?  What chord in me did is strike that resounded so strongly with such vulnerable pieces of myself that it threw me into this state???   I don't know.

Later on in the day I was shopping with my grandmother and giving her the update on the guy situation.  So my ex is going to Afghanistan in a week for up to 6 months .  In our efforts to reestablish a friendship, we succeeded and flew right past that line into romance again.  Not without strong reservations this time though.  Basically we're going to keep things as light as possible, write letters when he's away, and reevaluate when he returns.  I asked him if he would want to know if I went on dates, to which he replied no.  When I told my grandmother this, she agreed, saying, "he doesn't need to know all that."
I replied with, "well, yes, but I would want to know, I like complete honesty..."
"that's not honesty," she interjected, and before I could argue... "that's control."

Wow.  Well yes indeedy, Grandma...that is exactly what it is.  Trouble is, I've never realized that before.  All this time I just thought it was the honesty I wanted.  And yes, of course I wanted honesty. But in my obsessions with what I called "complete honesty" and wanting to know EVERYTHING I was actually seeking control.  Hunh....Interesting.

This is all uncharted territory for me.  I am uncovering new things about the way I think and feel and while I am confident that it is a good sign, proof that I am indeed growing and learning, it is also scary because...well heck!  What do I do now????  And oh my gosh, what else is lurking around the corners of my psyche???

One psychosis at a time, my friends, one psychosis at a time....

To spawn or not to spawn

I always wanted to have children.   But I always felt very strongly about waiting until I was in a good place to do this.  i.e. Stable job, preferrably married, settled, etc.... At the very least I wanted to find a good father to have a child with.  Trouble is, that never happened.  I've come close, but no cigar.  And here I am now, approaching an age where it will no longer be truly safe to have children and I am struggling with this.

A couple of years ago I tried to let it go, the idea of "happily ever after." Well, truthfully I understand there is no such thing as that simply because nothing is "ever after."  Life is full of change and unexpected happenings.  But I'm okay with this.  What I tried to let go of was the hope of finding a man to start a family with.  I thought I had made my peace with it.  Acknowledging it wasn't my druthers, but that I could accept and be happy without it.  But it always sneaks back in.  I see my many friends with children and I delight in that....but I am jealous.   I've considered doing the single mom thing., and honest-to-goodness, if I was wealthy, I'd go get pregnant tomorrow.  But I don't want to bring a child into the world if I won't be able to be there for it.  If I have to spend all my time working to support myself and my child, I'd have to leave my child in others' care and that kinda defeats the whole purpose.  I guess that was part of the hope with the herb farm, that we would be able to work from home so it would make a family easier, but the farm hasn't worked either.

And the older I get, the harder it becomes.  I don't want to be irresponsible by bringing a child into the world when it is often a scary, sad place, and not being able to provide for it.  Besides that, I also know my grandparents and uncle may need my time and energy more as they get older and it is very important to me that I can be there for them.  But lately I find myself secretly hoping that I will *accidently* get pregnant.  That somehow, fate, God, the Universe, the Goddess....whoever...will step in and despite my measures to be responsible will tweak things *just* a little....and I will find myself blessed with a child.  Because then I can feel confident in knowing it was the right thing.  Because it will feel "meant to be."  But having these odd thoughts is making me really look at myself and ask, "okay, would it really mean that much to you to be a mother?"  and if so...."should I reconsider my *responsible" choices?"

I'm truly torn.  At this point I don't think I will change anything....but I am truly torn and I am beginning to see that.  I realize I need to go deeper and follow these thoughts to their roots and make my decisions from there...but I'm afraid even at my depths there will be no concrete answer.  I'm afraid even at my depths the grounds will be shifting and torn.

Relapse

I haven't written in a while...which is probably the cause of the state of mind I was in when I chose the title of today's entry....

When I went to my therapist last, about 2 weeks ago, I was doing very well.  He asked why, and I told him I thought it was a result of the self-worth work and Radical Acceptance, and that I had been blogging more...being actively creative more.

This weekend some things have confronted me and I realize that unfortunately, the work must continue.  It's not like after 34 years of getting into habits and eating ideas that lessen my sense of worth I can just flip a switch and again be "golden."   As I drove home last night, I remembered that I started this journey of self-discovery this year with the idea and strong feeling that there was something simple, a switch, a KEY.  I said that to a few people..."I feel like there's something I'm just not getting, and if I can just figure out the KEY, I'll be good." 

The Radical Acceptance work I've done helped immensely.  And for a minute I thought that was they key I had been looking for, getting back to a place where I felt my worth and honoring myself.  Problem with that is that apparently old habits die hard, and really when you're talking about self-growth, it's a never-ending process.

Last night I found myself in a slightly awkward situation, and there I was again, feeling the shame and worthlessness bubble up from my depths, questioning my place in the world.  I realized that these past couple of weeks I haven't been doing too much observing of my emotions.  That 24-7 vigil of my psyche that filled the past few months brought me to a much better place, but then I stopped doing it.  Old habits die hard.

As Terri reminded me recently, sometimes it's our preconceived notions of how things should be that are hurting us.  We try to make things fit into the picture we think it should be....but life's not a puzzle you have the picture for before you put the pieces together.  Life's a puzzle you put together, piece by piece, until the picture is revealed.  But not only that, I think, it also seems that half of the pieces you have to make yourself.

So the idea occurred to me that maybe instead of fighting what is in my situation...I could just accept it.  It's a tricky thing though, because it's hard to see that line that once crossed means that I'm settling, and from there it's a short hop to no longer valuing and honoring myself.  But it does all come back to that, doesn't it?  If I am in a place where my sense of self and worthiness are strong enough, accepting uncomfortable situations won't threaten me.   I need to have complete faith in my awareness so that I know I will not let that line be crossed.  I guess that's going to take a lot of practice, though, to get there.  

I'm not there yet.  I know this, however...  This morning I woke up thinking more about it all and realized truly from an outsider's perspective the whole thing was pretty funny.  No one was in danger, no one was being attacked, it was just ego and notions of who I am that were being threatened.  Now, don't get me wrong, our sense of who we are is no small thing, but it is a fluid thing (or can be if we trust our souls enough.)  I thought about totally flipping around my comfort zone.  What if I *did* just accept the situation...embrace it in all it's ridiculous, awkward, non-socially normal existence.  When I allowed myself to see the humor of it, it was empowering.  From that amused state I could actually consider accepting it all.  But that meant giving up this proud persona I generally tend to identify with.  That means opening myself up and stepping out of my protective shell of notions into a completely vulnerable state of uncovered flaws...
   --- Eeeewww...who want's that?!?  

Well... me, perhaps.  Someone who wants to be authentic.  Someone who believes in Truth.  Someone who wants to be real.   Someone who wants to not be afraid of real. Yup, sounds like stuff I could get on board with.   But oh the strength of spirit that will take....the guts...the courage...  Terri's most powerful bonesigh for herself is this:

                 'strength lies in the opening of the heart.'

This morning on her page I noticed the quote of the day....this may be the most powerful bonesigh for me right now...

                'the key was in her daring.'

Maybe it's not like a switch, but maybe it is a "key."  I think the catch is, though, that there are ever more and more doors to unlock.  But if we are daring enough, we can open them, and they will bring us to more and more wonderful places. 

We shall see.

Journey

There is another great website I'd like to share a post from today: Brave Girls Club

She hits it right on the head, and I am grateful for that.

In my own life right now, I am still dealing with boy stuff.  My ex and I have been trying to work out a friendship and it boggles my mind how two people so drawn together 3 months ago can be so completely opposite now.  It's like magnets that have flipped their polarity.  Everything he or I do or say backfires.  I believe we both want to be friends, I believe we both truly care for each other.  But in trying to get to a place where we are comfortable with that and each other and honoring our selves in the process, we can't seem to strike a deal. 

So he's off playing with his kids and enjoying his day, and I'm here suffering because he won't talk to me or see me.  And I'm trying to sit with my heart and love myself.  I am telling myself that just because I don't matter to him does not mean that I do not matter.  But when we do talk he insists that he does care, and that I do matter to him, yet his actions say otherwise.

Why do I need to fix this? What is it I'm trying to prove?  And to whom?   I hate unsettled business. That's part of it.  I want a clear cut answer and I want to know where I stand.    And I don't want to lose a person who I felt such a connection with.  Because it's a rare thing for me to feel that, especially with a guy.  But I have to wonder if we stay good friends, won't I just keep falling back into love with him?  That won't be healthy. 

I don't know how to honor myself in this moment.  I do not know what is for my highest good.  I keep thinking, if he would just do this, or if he would just do that.  That seems wrong.  He is not me.  Why should his actions have any impact on ME?   Because I thought he loved me, and I'm afraid I was wrong.  Because if I was wrong it means I played the fool again, and I misjudged, and I lose faith in my heart. 
...
But who says the heart leads us only to happy fluffy places?  My heart said, "yes, do this" my heart said, "yes, go this way, follow this path, love this person."  And I did.  But quietly along the way, my heart also whispered, "this is not a good idea, this will not work out, this will lead to a hard, painful place."  But it was where I needed to go, to grow.

You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.  Your heart can lead your soul to growing, but it can't make it see.  Here and now it is EGO that sustains the suffering.  Wanting to hold on to what has run its course.  Wanting to change a person's behavior to fit my needs when that person's journey is veering off from mine. Wanting another to do what I need to believe that they love me so that I can look to that to validate my worth.  But I have learned that that is not the way. 

Gosh.  I really do believe, I truly have to let it go.  But I don't know how.  I never let things go.  Not completely.  I always hold on to the love, hold on to something.  To quote Ingrid Michaelson, "the only way to really know, is to really let it go."  In her song,  Maybe she says this.  This song has the hope in it, that what she lets go will return.  That's always there to hold on to, if nothing else.  But to let go of that.....so scary.  But powerful, I think.  I'm unsure of it, I am scared, but I'm going to try this because I'm trusting my heart and my soul.  We shall see.

Stood Up

Seems it is very hard *not* to doubt my self-worth when people totally disregard me.  I thought I had a date tonight....boy texted me Thurs night that he'd get in touch midday today.  Midday came and went, and with it the rainy dreary day it was.  The weather turned bright and sunny, so I was really looking forward to a night out....but then no word.  I, not wanting to be pushy, waited.   And waited....oh yeah...and then I waited.   Always waiting....why is that?  Then it got to the point where I either had to get ready and leave, or not go.  So I thought I better ask him what's up.  Trouble was I was scared.  Sat with my self and my thoughts and my emotions and went right back to all those times as a child....waiting for my mom....who never showed.  I was afraid to call because I didn't want the rejection.  If I didn't call I could still cling on to that teeny bit of hope.  But I would also be subjecting myself to the whims of this other person.  So I texted...."are we still going tonight?"  
...
...
*crickets*

Apparently not.  And it's not like it's a huge deal.  It's not like I was so emotionally vested in this guy or anything...it's just the point.  The ever-recurring cycle that happens in my life.  I thought maybe I was figuring out a way to break out of it....but I guess not.  How can I help from asking myself, "what am I doing wrong?"  Or worse, "what's wrong with me?"   Bleah.  I don't think there's anything wrong with me, and I don't think I'm doing anything wrong....but WTF IS THE PROBLEM THEN?!?!!??!    Sigh.  I keep trying to make sense of it.  I forget....life doesn't make sense.   But don't worry, life never fails to remind me.  It's okay.  The problem is that I had lots of productive things I could have done today.  Gardens need weeding, kitchen needs cleaning, things need sorting, laundry needs folding....but I was in play mode.  And now I'm clean and shiny and not-quite-dressed-yet....but no where to go.  If town wasn't so far away, I'd go in anyway, but at this point I'm really not feeling the hour and a quarter drive.

And I had coworkers who swore he was a nice guy.   'Tis what 'tis.....whatever that is.  ::wrinkle nose::  I'm not a fan.  But I suppose there is a lesson in this....guess I'll go try to find it.

My friend just told me, "Better now than later."   And I said, "Yup.  That's how I roll 'em."

Loneliness, definition: Potential for Love

When the movie Avatar came out I went to see it with my roommate and her boyfriend.  Afterwards, as we were excitedly recalling the cool parts of the film, my friend asked me, "So which would you choose, Pandora or the Shire?"  My answer was most definitely, Pandora.  Hers was the Shire.  She responded, "I figured you'd choose Pandora, I knew you'd want to fly on dragons."  I laughed.  It's true, I would love to be able to fly on dragons, but that's not why I chose the way I did.  The key element of life in an Avatar world that swings the scales for me is connection.  If everything else in the movie was the same, but their amazing ability to commune with each other and the world around them were missing, I'd choose the Shire.

Connection.  It's a pretty basic desire of, I dare say, all humanity.  It's what we look for when we meet new people, it's why we root for sports teams, date, meditate, go to church, go to bars, and read blogs.  We want to connect. We need it.  It's what we're made for.

I've been dealing with loneliness lately.  For me, I believe, it's the most uncomfortable emotion.  Almost all other emotions I can get comfortable with.  I can accept my fear, my anger, my confusion, my doubt... I can sit with all of these and offer compassion and acceptance to them and get through them.  The most common strong emotions, fear and anger, bring a powerful energy with them, so in many ways they are life-affirming.  I'm okay with that. But loneliness???  Oh goodness, no.

In my characterization of emotions I've drawn "loneliness" as a waifish  young girl, dressed in rags with disturbingly dark and sunken eyes that make you think of death.  Not really a lass you'd jump at the chance to have tea with...  But in my efforts to reaffirm my self-worth, using many techniques from Radical Acceptance and talking with my therapist, I am pointed back to this emotion.  What is it that makes me dread loneliness so much?  I've tried for a couple of weeks now, to sit with it, accept it, feel it, and understand it.  I haven't had much progress until today...

Meditating today on this horrid feeling I realized some of the associations I have with it.  My fear, with loneliness, is that my heart will be so starved for love, so long without what it needs for survival that it, like a plant without water, will shrivel up and die forever. Ugh.  THAT doesn't sound like fun.  I sat with that for a while and let it sink in.  Thoughts swirled around and images, ideas...   The idea of my soul needing love in dry soil, so it sends its roots down deeper.  The idea that our energy cannot be destroyed, our souls are eternal.  The idea that we are all connected so how can I ever truly be without love....so maybe it's just a self-imposed wall....

I tried to imagine being the only thing to exist in infinity.  To take my fear to the extreme and imagine what if I was truly, unequivocally, undeniably ALONE.    And yeah, it would totally suck for a long long time, but I think, like everything, you'd get used to it.  :)  And if I floated in that empty void for eons, what would happen if the solitude ended?   If something (not even a someone) just appeared to share the space with me....I imagined that first there would be intense curiosity....possibly fear, but I thought after so long alone and with only myself, anything new brought into the world...I would love.    Something new, something to share with...I would love it.  (Now my logical brain has to argue that if it was something that caused pain I would probably not love it, but bear with me...)  And then from that I've taken that loneliness is like a potential.  Like the potential energy version of the kinetic energy of loving.  Or maybe an action potential for love....

I'm not sure which scientific analogy fits best, but the point is that perhaps loneliness just carves out more space in our hearts for love.  Maybe through loneliness we are forced to grow more roots, reach deeper to find those connections, and that will open up whole new realms and pools of love that we never before would have been able to reach.  Maybe our hearts can never be destroyed as long as we are willing to reach through the pain to the love that lies beyond.   We shall see....

Happy Ireland Day!!!

I remember a specific day in college.  It was the weekend of our annual carnival on campus.  I had tons of homework to do.  I was talking to a friend and explaining that I needed to go out and play first because I was all excited and knew that once I had my fun I'd be able to come home and focus on getting my work done.  And it was true. When I really allowed myself to totally have fun, I'd be completely okay with going home to get work done.  My friend was surprised by this because for him, and I think for a lot of people, they use play as a reward...like...if I do my work, then I can go out and play.  This sometimes works...but I'm beginning to think that maybe this is the wrong approach for me.

I love all things Irish and St. Patrick's Day is one of my favorite.  Ideally, I'd like to be in Ireland, or at least here, surrounded by Irish music and people dancing jigs and generally having a good time.  But all morning I've been trying to motivate to do my chores.  I've also been dealing with some emotional stuff, but I think that's taken care of for the moment.  As I am beginning to hear from others out and having fun, I remembered that day back in college and I wonder if perhaps I've been too long putting work before play and maybe that's the problem.  Maybe my soul is just plain tired of working all the time.  Maybe I just need to be a hedonist for a bit....hmmmm....off to get my jig on.  ;)

Special permissions

I've been dealing with an ear infection...well, two in fact. And actually it's more allergy related, I believe, than"sick" related...but I digress.  I'm always curious about the theories of an illness' emotional connection, and when I researched "ear infections" I found an interesting article that said if it was the left ear it's a sign that you're not listening to your inner voice.  The right ear means not wanting to hear what's going on around you.  So I've got both, but definitely way worse on the left side.  Just more confirmation for me that I need to really get in touch with my thoughts, creativity, opening up that 5th chakra.

This has been persisting for about 3 weeks now.  Several times I thought it was getting better and put off going to the doctor, only to have it get worse again.  Going to the doc this friday...hopefully it will help.  It's been a strange existence these few weeks though, almost like I'm constantly in a dream.  I can barely hear, and it feels like I'm in a tunnel.  My sense of space is all confused too...balance...all of it.  I'm sure it's entertaining to those around me, but for me it's a little disconcerting.   But honestly, by now, I'm starting to just go with it!

I'm almost done with my first reading of of Radical Acceptance.  I know for sure I will need to read it again.  There's so much in that book!  Last night I was reading a bit where it talked about meditating and getting to that point where you...well...where "you" dissolves.  To that point where there is only awareness.  She refers to asking the question "who is feeling this" or something to that effect to get closer to that dissolution-of-self point.  Reading about this, I thought I remembered a handful of times where I approached this understanding.  I thought about it last night, as I was tired, not able to hear, about to go to sleep...and for a brief moment I let myself consider this state of being.  And then a shot of terror went through me. 

We are so attached to our identities that the idea of just letting that go seems so wrong.  Like death.  But apparently, it is through practicing this state of awareness that we come to a greater feeling of connectedness with all things, which is what we long for in our deepest depths. 

Many things she talks about in this book I feel like I've already done.  It's funny because as far back as I can remember I've always been super compassionate.  Maybe it's just how I was raised.  I'm not sure, but it occurred to me that I feel like I am pretty "skilled" (for lack of a better term) at this lovingkindess stuff, but when it comes to issues and emotions within myself I'm pretty lacking in skill.  I read Terri's blog and am awed by her ability to dive down into her depths and come up with these amazing realizations, day after day, and then apply them to her life and grow from it.  I think I do that, but in teeny tiny little bits.  Anyhow, I was wondering if it was possible to just skip all that inner work and just get to the at peace with the world stuff, since that seems to be my affinity.  Then I read Rob Brezny's horoscope for me this week:

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): Hanadi Zakaria al-Hindi is the first Saudi Arabian
woman to be licensed to fly a plane. But there's an absurd law in her
country that prohibits women from driving cars, so she needs a man to
give her a lift to the airport. Is there any situation in your own life that
resembles hers, Leo? Like maybe you've advanced to a higher level
without getting certified on a lower level? Or maybe you've got
permission and power to operate in a sphere that's meaningful to you
even though you skipped a step along the way? Now would be a good
time to think about whether you should do anything about the
discrepancy, and if so, how to do it.

Seems to me that if I can fly a plane, I'll take it!  But being able to drive around would be pretty cool too.  So maybe I don't have to go in order, but I probably should still try to learn all the skills.  It's like in college, where you don't have to take all your easy distribution req's in Freshman year, but you do need them to graduate.  So even if I've received special permissions to skip some pre-req's for now...it's probably only a matter of time before I have to actually face those...basic..messier..lessons to be learned. 

The Balance of Forgiveness

People are always talking about how important it is to forgive.  The ability to let go of past wrongs and to offer forgiveness to those that have hurt us, even if they've never aplogized to us, is considered a noble trait.  It is often suggested that forgiving is a way of healing ourselves because holding on to an old anger or grudge is only harming ourselves.  I agree with all of these things.  I am a very forgiving person. 

However....I have recently realized there is a danger in forgiving too easily.  Part of my pattern with unhealthy relationships, probably the most unhealthy part of the whole thing always happens at the end.  When a relationship ends, even if I am the one being hurt, dumped, lied to, whatever...I always immediately start trying to forgive the person.  I try to release my anger and remember my love for the person, I pray for their happiness and that they find love.  I do everything in my power to wish the best for them, and harbor no resentment towards them.  I look at the whole thing as a learning process in life and try to take away only the best of it.  Seems great, right?  When you type it out on paper, looks wonderful.  But let me give an analogy to illustrate the problem:

You have a child.  You walk into a playground and see an adult beating your child.  You, of course, run in and protect your child.  Whether it be by fighting the person directly or drawing your child away to comfort them, you end this abuse to your child.  And when the immediate danger is past you turn to the abuser and say, "it's okay, I'm sure you're a good person, I forgive you."              Uh...no...not so much. 

See, I've realized that by always forgiving too quickly those that have hurt me, I've devalued my Self.  By forgiving my mother for all the hurt she caused me, by forgiving the boys that lied to me and left me, all too soon, I was subconsciously telling myself that I was not important enough to be angry over.  That my feelings did not matter, that I was not as worthy of respect as they were.  All the while, thinking I was doing the right thing because I was trying to be a loving compassionate soul.   I'm not suggesting that we hold on to anger forever, or even for a very long time.  But I think it is *very* important to make sure we are not forgiving a person until WE ARE READY. 

I ended up having a conversation with my ex.  It was a lot of me expressing a lot of anger.  Anger bubbled up and overflowed and I was surprised at how strong it seemed.  He was apologetic, and for the most part, understanding.  I appreciated this.  I'm sure there's a lot more we could talk about, and maybe that will in time, but I feel like I was able to express the key important things that were really bothering me, and I feel much better for it.  The most important thing I did though, was actually *not* doing something.  He asked if I would forgive him, he said he was sorry.  I told him that I truly appreciated his sentiments, but that for the time being, I could not.  I would forgive him in time, because I AM a loving, compassionate soul.  But I must respect myself now, and honor my own hurts and anger. 

I suppose by not forgiving him I am forgiving a deeper part of myself.   Forgiving myself for mistakes, misjudgments, fears, doubts, failures....and I am accepting myself for all of me, ugly emotions and imperfections included.  I think I've found the balance of forgiveness...and that is so very healing.

I know why the little pigs don't fly

Yesterday, even after I wrote the last blog entry, and after I was feeling better for a moment, I returned to my state of despair.  I was trying to just allow myself the sorrow and pain, but it didn't seem to be going anywhere, it just seemed to sit there and make me miserable.   I grabbed the Radical Acceptance book and read a little more in it, hoping to find something that would click with me at the moment.  And I did.  She talked about a particularly hard breakup she went through and how, in her suffering, she turned to the idea of Kwan Yin, the Boddhisattva of Compassion.  Something in the way she worded the story made me realize 2 things.

 First, the problem I was having was not in dealing with the emotion.  I realized I was fighting the truth.  The truth being that my guy...well...just isn't.  He's not "mine" in any sense of the word, but particularly, not mine in heart.  I *want* him to feel for me like I do for him.  I *want* him to be missing me and hurting for not hearing from me.  I *want* him to want to talk to me and spend time with me and I *want* all of those things he said, making me think he really cared, to be proven true by his actions as well.   But I could want for pigs to fly, all day 'til the cows come home, but that's not going to make them sprout wings.  All it's going to do is make me sad.  "Why oh why won't those little pigs fly?????"  Doesn't really matter why... they won't.  End of story, move on.  Sigh.
   Move on to what?  To this:  Realization number 2. Our experiences are here to teach us.  I tend to think I have a role here on this earth as a healer of sorts, and for that I need compassion.  I think I am a pretty compassionate soul, more compassionate than your average bear...but what's one of the most common heartaches people suffer??   Unrequited love.  Bingo.  Ahhh...  I mean, it's not like this is something I've never experienced before, obviously...but not recently, and maybe I need to experience it again with a new level of understanding.  The point is when this finally clicked into place I felt a big relief from the pain.  I'm loving someone who doesn't love me......just like thousands and millions of people all over the world, from rich to poor, old to young, in the most desolate uneducated places to the busiest oversophisticated citites.  We *all* go through this.  And we all think it sucks.  But there it is, argueably perhaps the single most unifying experience in all of humanity, spanning all gaps, even time.     And there it is...OH the irony.   What bonds us all together more than anything?  Our lack of bonding with the ones we love.   Ha ha ha ha....and that's why my first blog was entitled "Life is a big cosmic joke!!!"

Somebody that I used to know

This song is helping me at the moment....and what a cool video!!  Somebody that I used to know

But anyway.....breakups are hard.  Pretty sure that's not news. One of the books I'm reading right now is Radical Acceptance by Tara Brach, MD.  I'm determined to get to a place where I can truly feel worthy of love and belonging because I'm really starting to think that's my biggest obstacle in not being able to find a lasting relationship.   In this book she talks about just being present and aware of your emotions and the effects on the body and use that as a key to get to a deeper connection with your self, and in turn, others. 

I'm trying very hard in all this to be very present and accepting of my emotions and patient and loving with myself.  It's all part of the grand greater plan of getting to a better place overall in my life.  Some days are much harder than others.  It's surprising to me how absolutely exhausting all this self-awareness can be!  It's a constant mental focus, and sometimes I just have to put it aside and take refuge in my fortress of anger.  But I was just reminded, as I took my comforter from the washer, how it all fades away.   I'm cleaning my room as part of a mental exercise of cleansing my spirit, and washing away all the attachments to the painful patterns of yesterday.  I cried a lot today.  Everytime I started to do something productive I became overwhelmed with emotion, and felt a deep deep tired.  So I stopped, looked within, breathed, and often cried. 

It got to a point where I felt like the situation was robbing me of my precious time. So that's when I retreated to the anger.  But as I put my freshly washed bedding into the dryer, feeling a little sense of relief, it reminded me that sometimes you just need to ride out the crazy waves of emotion.  A big part of me overcoming my bouts of depression years ago was realizing one key thing.  The worst part of depression for me is that during it, it feels like it will never end, the fear comes that the pain will last forever.  But it never does.  It always passes.  I guess that's true with all emotions, and that's a big point Tara talks about in her book.  It's the running from and fearing of emotions that makes them so much bigger than us.  When we take them for what they are, we can surf through them, possibly bruised and bloody, but whole and safe on the shore in the end.

Self Trust

So Thursday was on okay day.  My roommate was home which doesn't happen very often, and we were able to chat a little about what's going on.  I've been so distraught over the state of my relationship lately that it's making me depressed and unable to be very useful in anything else.  I'm often distracted and haven't had the will to really think about what the plan is for the farm this year.  It's not the relationship per say, of course, although that has been the catalyst, but all of the self-analysis that's come with it.

Also that day  I was reminded several times about how small my problems are when put in perspective.  A co-worker of mine has a premie newborn who had to return to the hospital and life support after doing well for a time, another co-worker's grandmother just found out she has cancer, one of the bowler's friends just died this week in a car accident....the list can go on forever really.  But all of that is the stuff of life, the ups and downs, the joys and tragedies.

I was talking to a friend while I was bartending that night, going on and on about my relationship, when lo and behold who should show up unexpectedly?   You guessed it.  I was totally taken for a loop.  And my mind started racing....what did he hear???   Truly I didn't say anything I haven't already talked to him about, and it wasn't like I was being mean or anything, but it was just the point of the fact that I probably shouldn't have been going off about him to someone else...in public.  My freshman roommate and I used to have a rule..if you were going to talk about anyone, you had to close the door!  Wise words from college freshmen.

It's a problem I've dealt with before.  I tend to talk a lot.  To a lot of people.  When I'm stressing about something I just tell the story to any friend that seems interested to get their opinion or input.  I'm looking for validation a lot of the time, or for them to point out how I'm in the wrong.  I was reading some articles online about self-trust and I realize that I probably need to stop trying to search outside myself for this approval if I'm ever going to learn to trust myself again.  I mean, it's natural and human and truly okay, I believe, to go to friends when you're stuck or need advice.  But I need to limit this to very close friends and only after I've decided what I honestly think and feel about a situation.  I need to stand firm on my choices and beliefs, because that's who I am, and if I can't trust myself, I cannot trust anyone else.

Which brings me to the next point.  The thing I was talking to my friend about when my guy showed up was trust.  How I've always been pretty good at telling when people are lying.  And it's true.  I just get a feeling and it's usually right.   So I was telling my friend how I didn't think my guy was lying to me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't being entirely open with me either.  A few minutes later, as my guy walks around the corner and my mind starts doing cartwheels I was given another one of those intense life lessons, the crash course way.

To be fair, I was scattered.  Between the anger and hurt I've been feeling, the anxiety and fear over not knowing what's going on, the panic that he might have overheard me, and the way I completely melt upon seeing him, I might have been a little off my game on the lie-detection.  But what happened was this:  He had some big to-do thing with work that a lot was riding on.  When I had a minute to talk to him, I asked, expectantly, "so, it went well?"  And he just shook his head and said "no."  And here's the thing.  I thought he was kidding.  So I said so.  But he insisted.  And the more he said, the more I thought he was just teasin' and I was laughing and saying, "whatever, I can tell you're lying."  And then after a few more rounds of this I started to doubt my read on it and realized he wasn't kidding.  He was totally telling the truth.  And oh gosh.  It didn't go well. :(    So add feeling like a heartless bitch to that mix of earlier emotions and I just went over to give him a hug, insides swirling.

We talked for a few minutes, but he had to go, and I was left with my confusion stew, trying to figure out what just happened.  What happened was life just slapped me in the face.  "Remember Sherry?" life shouted at me, "remember, that you don't know everything, and you can't assume you know something about a person no matter how much you may have learned about others?  And remember if you don't trust the person you so-call *love* then you can't be very true in that love."  Ouch.  That slap hurt.  Enter guilt.

I thought, hopefully, that maybe it was a good sign that he did stop by and maybe all is not lost.  But by the end of the night and the brief text exchange I figured nothing really had changed.  Maybe he did hear us talking and was angry because of it.  Maybe a thousand other things.  The main problem in this relationship is the lack of time.  Without enough time there cannot be sufficient communication, and without communication, all relationships are "ultimately doomed."  ...to quote another friend.

I haven't heard from him since then, and the brief text he sent, "Night," before he went to bed, and I guess I don't really expect to at this point. I guess it's over, and yes, I feel like there is so much unsaid and confusion, but what does it all really matter?  It was just a lesson that life needed to teach me, right?  So I'm studying for the exam now.  I don't want to fail this course *again.*  So I'm adding "learning to trust myself" to the list of things I'm working on...for it's own sake, and for the purpose of learning how to again trust other people.  Sigh sigh.  One day at a time.

Ask and you shall receive?

I woke up this morning with my kitty curled up in a ball, purring on my bed.  My thoughts of course went to that sad place, as I know they will for a while yet, but I tried to change their direction.  I pet the soft fur of the kitty and felt grateful.  And that one bit of gratitude flooded in and reminded me of all the myriad of things I am grateful for.  Almost automatically I began to count my blessings.  It occurred to me, that perhaps this is a key element to this "fire of love" I'm trying to figure out.  Gratitude obviously is a main source of kindling. 

And then I remembered my mantra: "Creativity is essential, not inevitable."  I remember what Terri says about using creativity to keep our hearts open.  And the phrase crept in, "the fires of creation."  Ahh....that makes sense.  It was really more of a "doh!"  because it seems kinda obvious.  I'm just musing on all this for the moment...but I'm thinking Love isn't a fire at all.   Love is something altogether different and bigger.  But in order for the love to flow freely there needs to be the right kind of fire.  A creative fire, fueled by gratitude and wonder and shimmering in rainbow colors, burning blues and greens and fluorescent pinks.

We'll see.

Plodding

I always want to choose love.  But sometimes there is hurt.  Why there is hurt is a topic for another day, but when a certain kind of hurt is there it becomes hard to love.   Fear creeps in.  No... fear crashes in, and sets up camp, and builds fires that burn cold cold flames.  Clear icy flames with black streaks that block the sight of love.  And I march myself into that fire over and over again and feel the pain because I think that's what I need to do to get back to the love.  And it just keeps hurting.  Sometimes, when you've been hurt and you feel so lonely, trying to be understanding and forgiving and loving just hurts so bad you want to cry.  I think its the right thing to do so I keep trying.  But sometimes I need to take a break, and anger is where I find relief.  Anger takes all that pain and fear and rejection and throws it up into a pyre of its own creation.  That fire feels warm and alive and safe.   Somehow I remember though, that it's still not love, and I let that fire dwindle to mere embers.  

So what's the fire of love look like?  And what do I do to build that?  Or is it a fire at all?  So many questions, and very few answers.  So many questions for a starry winter night.