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.

Song for a Winter's Night

This winter almost passed without any snow in our little piece of the world.  I took a trip up North to visit the family this weekend, and was welcomed on my return with 5 inches of snow and counting.  It's a little stressful to drive in, but with the Thistle and Shamrock playing on my radio and the dark quiet of the night highlighting the beautiful snow covered trees, there was something wonderfully peaceful about it all.

And I needed the peace.  It's always bittersweet going home.  This trip was made doubly so with the discord I've been having in my recent romance.  I've supposed life is giving me a crash course in all the many things I've failed to learn in the past 34 years.  I'm trying so hard.

I've started therapy.  I've gone once so far and found it a useful tool in assisting me in my own journey of self-analysis.  I've realized some important things these past couple of weeks.  There's still a long way to go I believe.  Again, I'm trying.

I love my family.  I didn't have the easiest childhood, but by far I did not have the hardest either.   Looking back now I am forever thankful for 90% of the things that at the time I did not understand or even hated.  And now I love these folks that raised me so much beyond what I can ever express.  I am afraid to admit now, that part of the reason the visits are so bittersweet is that they always end too soon, and I realize that being with my family is one of the few times I truly feel love and belonging.  I am so thankful for that.  They are so amazingly loving and wonderful.  But the fact that I lack this feeling in my regular life if very disturbing and scary.  I'm not sure what to do about it.  Not sure what it means.

At one point during this weekend I was driving to the store past the old house I grew up in.  The house and whole block, really, looks completely different than when I lived there.  But as I drove down the short little road to the main street in town I saw a little girl with long brown hair and a helmet on shakily riding her bike up the road.  A few yards behind an older man walked slowly, following her.  It was like a flashback.  That's exactly where I learned to ride a bike oh so many years ago.  As I drove by the house I saw that the girl had fallen when she turned into the driveway.  The older man was breathing a little heavy, walking quickly to catch up to her.  I waved to the man, and *almost* stopped.  But I didn't, and the moment passed, but I lingered, driving slowly, just touched by the cyclical nature of life. 

My grandfather and my mother helped me learn to ride a bike.  My grandfather was in pretty good shape for most of his life and always stayed active, but he also smoked heavily since he was very young.  I doubt he was ever out of breath teaching me back then, but now, at home, it's all the time.  Emphysema, heart disease...we had such a horrible scare a year ago, and I am thankful for every moment I get to spend with him.  And all of them.  When I am home I cherish every moment.  My grandmother, uncle, grandfather, these are the people that raised me.   I am amazed and awed and humbled by all of it.  

My aunt was recently diagnosed with cancer and has started chemotherapy.  I stopped to see her on my way out of New York.  Of my three aunts, she is the one I've seen the least.  She's lived in Florida for many years and rarely gets back home.  But she lives back in NY now, thankfully, and so does my cousin, so they get to be together during this difficult time.  When I asked my aunt how she was doing, she said, "good, good..." and then told me about a friend of her husband's that went through what she is and has been helping her cope.  He's taught her, "Cancer doesn't kill you, it teaches you to live."   Can't say that I've ever heard wiser words from my aunt.  Why is it so hard for us to remember gratitude and to let go of the things that don't work?  Because fear, sorrow, anxiety...none of it serves us.  We are here to live.  And love love and more love.