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.