There's a whole lot of people accomplishing a whole lot of good lately. I want to join them, I want to make a difference, do something good and right, and increase the light in the world...but I don't know how. I realize since my last blogpost my life has spun off the rails. It was a cascading avalanche of a year and a few months, and I'm here now, wondering if I should bother to pick up any of the pieces.
A Cherokee Dream Healer once told a story that I was lucky enough to be present to listen to. I don't remember it well enough, but I remember its essence, I believe. He spoke of a man chasing something his entire life. It was always just out of reach. He went here and there, and spent days and years, *almost* catching and defeating this creature. At the very end, defeated, he turned around and realized, the thing he sought was himself. I feel like that now.
If you've ever played with magnets and tried to press two same-poled ends together, you know the feeling I feel. It's like the very thing I am doing to try and reach a goal, is the very thing that is keeping that goal out of reach. But how to stop, how to see, how to turn around? I don't know.
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Salsa
So I've been meaning to write about Salsa dancing for a while now...so here it is:
In town they have Sunday Salsa lessons. An hour of lesson and then dancing till you drop for everyone. The lessons are always for beginners, but they're slightly different each week so you still feel like you're learning. Sometimes if enough people have been a few times, they teach slighly more advanced stuff.
I wanted to write about it after the first time I went. I've wanted to go to these lessons for years. Since I first heard about the Sunday Salsa I've been trying to find people to go with. Finally, this year, my wish was granted. A friend heard about it and decided to go, so I went too. I was happily surprised to see that the number of guys and girls was even. It's been that way, every time, almost exactly even. So after the instructor goes over the basic steps with the entire group, when he breaks us up into "leaders" and "followers" it's actually pretty much guys and girls.
The neat thing about Salsa is that it's a social dance. People are there to dance, and with different people. It's not a dance that you do expecting to only dance with the person you came with the entire time. So often, as part of the lesson, we form a circle and after a few minutes of dancing, the ladies switch off to the next guy. The first time we did this I was so delightfully tickled. Every single person dances differently. That's also another great thing about salsa: it has steps and rhythm, but you're supposed to give the dance your own flavor. You stylize it to reflect your personality. And although when you're learning, you generally can't spare any focus to think of this, it always comes through subconsciously. I notice this as I go around the circle.
There are shy guys, strict guys, funny guys, restless guys, serious guys, the list goes on. Everyone does the moves slightly differently and it's so fascinating to me. It's also just plain awesome because I have so much admiration for all these people at the class. Especially the shy guys. Because a million kudos to them for having the guts to show up (often by themselves) and learn something new and scary.
I never fail to get a kick out of it. Just the sheer human-ness of it. Everyone's skill level is different, everyone dresses a little differently, everyone's style is different! I absolutely LOVE it.
There's the young new med student who is so exuberant and confident even though he's new.
There's the older Indian guy who seems a little quiet, but picking up the dance really well.
There's the tall thin guy who I'm pretty sure *thinks* he's above the average skill level, (and probably is) but hardly ever dances with people.
There's the new guy who seems so awkward and uncoordinated and is so focused that he barely smiles or even looks at his partner...
And I love them all!!
The list goes on and on.
And of course all of the women have their own personalities and everything too, I just don't dance with them so I don't notice it as much.
Salsa is called such because as our teacher says, "it's a mix of flavors," and it is SO true. But so is life, so are we. All human, all basic needs and desires the same, but oh, how amazingly different the flavors! The quirks, the traits, the personalities. All different, all delightful. Delicious!
In town they have Sunday Salsa lessons. An hour of lesson and then dancing till you drop for everyone. The lessons are always for beginners, but they're slightly different each week so you still feel like you're learning. Sometimes if enough people have been a few times, they teach slighly more advanced stuff.
I wanted to write about it after the first time I went. I've wanted to go to these lessons for years. Since I first heard about the Sunday Salsa I've been trying to find people to go with. Finally, this year, my wish was granted. A friend heard about it and decided to go, so I went too. I was happily surprised to see that the number of guys and girls was even. It's been that way, every time, almost exactly even. So after the instructor goes over the basic steps with the entire group, when he breaks us up into "leaders" and "followers" it's actually pretty much guys and girls.
The neat thing about Salsa is that it's a social dance. People are there to dance, and with different people. It's not a dance that you do expecting to only dance with the person you came with the entire time. So often, as part of the lesson, we form a circle and after a few minutes of dancing, the ladies switch off to the next guy. The first time we did this I was so delightfully tickled. Every single person dances differently. That's also another great thing about salsa: it has steps and rhythm, but you're supposed to give the dance your own flavor. You stylize it to reflect your personality. And although when you're learning, you generally can't spare any focus to think of this, it always comes through subconsciously. I notice this as I go around the circle.
There are shy guys, strict guys, funny guys, restless guys, serious guys, the list goes on. Everyone does the moves slightly differently and it's so fascinating to me. It's also just plain awesome because I have so much admiration for all these people at the class. Especially the shy guys. Because a million kudos to them for having the guts to show up (often by themselves) and learn something new and scary.
I never fail to get a kick out of it. Just the sheer human-ness of it. Everyone's skill level is different, everyone dresses a little differently, everyone's style is different! I absolutely LOVE it.
There's the young new med student who is so exuberant and confident even though he's new.
There's the older Indian guy who seems a little quiet, but picking up the dance really well.
There's the tall thin guy who I'm pretty sure *thinks* he's above the average skill level, (and probably is) but hardly ever dances with people.
There's the new guy who seems so awkward and uncoordinated and is so focused that he barely smiles or even looks at his partner...
And I love them all!!
The list goes on and on.
And of course all of the women have their own personalities and everything too, I just don't dance with them so I don't notice it as much.
Salsa is called such because as our teacher says, "it's a mix of flavors," and it is SO true. But so is life, so are we. All human, all basic needs and desires the same, but oh, how amazingly different the flavors! The quirks, the traits, the personalities. All different, all delightful. Delicious!
Friday, February 01, 2013
Stripping away
So I've started a strange journey I believe. After the breakup it was very hard for me not to be self-destructive by looking at my ex's facebook page. So I deactivated my account. I'll go back on eventually, I just need some distance from the whole thing.
I've also finally met up with this herbalist who I heard good things about years ago and have been meaning to see. I've had a lot of health issues my whole life and am always trying to improve things with natural medicine. I've tried many things. The best success I did have was with herbs and acupuncture a long time ago. So I decided to try the herb route again.
The herbalist decided to focus on "clearing heat in the upper burner" (it's a chinese medicine thing.) So now I have a nasty tasting herb powder formula to take 3 times a day, and a *very* restrictive diet. I'm already a vegetarian, but I've gotten quite used to and loving of that. *This* diet however is very different. I'll list what I can eat, cuz that list is shorter:
Veggies (except potatoes, corn, eggplant & peppers)
Brown Rice
Quinoa
Non citrus fruits
Water
Herbal Tea
Tofu and Tempeh
Some salt, garlic or ginger
Non spicy herbs
Beans & legumes
olive oil, canola oil, sesame oil
Nuts (except peanuts and pistachios)
Soy
Amaranth, Buckwheat (these are kinda irrelevent because they're hard to find and use)
So yeah...I think that's about it.
I think soy yogurt would be ok, but I'm not sure, because I stopped asking for clarifications after I realized the list got smaller every time I did!
So here's the thing. I'm not trying to whine about this. I just wanted to explain for the curious, but here's the thing:
I'm eliminating a lot of distractions from my life. Facebook was a big one, and food! I love food! I love french fries and beer and coffee and eggs and peppers and onions and spicy food and black bean burritoes from taco bell and all sorts of food really! I've realized that eating food is one of the things I've really looked forward to. And now...eating is not so exciting. I eat now because I'm hungry and I have to. I"m more concerned about making sure my body is getting enough nutrition then whether or not the food tastes good, or is what I'm in the mood for. Usually in the past if I was depressed or stressed, I'd grab a snack, or make some comfort food. If I'm tired in the morning, I know a cup of coffee will get me going, or at least make me happier.
Now all of those things are gone. It's just me. Me and me. And thoughts, and the quiet. When I'm up and about, I'm ok, I do my thing, I'm adjusting to the diet. But when I'm alone, when I don't have to go to work, it's really hard to get out of bed. I know I'm depressed, but it's a different kind of depression. Maybe it's just a deeper layer. Maybe since I have no more distractions I am forced to BE with my feelings, 100%.
I've noticed this change and I know it's only beginning. This effect, probably more than any health stuff may keep me going on this diet. In my free time I am forced to be alone for the most part. My friend's birthday is tonight, so I'm going off a little for that, and my paternal grandparents are visiting next Tuesday, so I'll bend a little for that, but otherwise I'm not going out cuz I can't drink or eat really. I'm hoping I'll start practicing flute again and working on my goals, but I'm being so permissive with myself right now. It's like I'm on a pilgrimmage. Only instead of travelling anywhere in the world, I'm travelling within.
I'm really not sure how long I'll be able to keep this up, but I hope some good will come of it.
I've also finally met up with this herbalist who I heard good things about years ago and have been meaning to see. I've had a lot of health issues my whole life and am always trying to improve things with natural medicine. I've tried many things. The best success I did have was with herbs and acupuncture a long time ago. So I decided to try the herb route again.
The herbalist decided to focus on "clearing heat in the upper burner" (it's a chinese medicine thing.) So now I have a nasty tasting herb powder formula to take 3 times a day, and a *very* restrictive diet. I'm already a vegetarian, but I've gotten quite used to and loving of that. *This* diet however is very different. I'll list what I can eat, cuz that list is shorter:
Veggies (except potatoes, corn, eggplant & peppers)
Brown Rice
Quinoa
Non citrus fruits
Water
Herbal Tea
Tofu and Tempeh
Some salt, garlic or ginger
Non spicy herbs
Beans & legumes
olive oil, canola oil, sesame oil
Nuts (except peanuts and pistachios)
Soy
Amaranth, Buckwheat (these are kinda irrelevent because they're hard to find and use)
So yeah...I think that's about it.
I think soy yogurt would be ok, but I'm not sure, because I stopped asking for clarifications after I realized the list got smaller every time I did!
So here's the thing. I'm not trying to whine about this. I just wanted to explain for the curious, but here's the thing:
I'm eliminating a lot of distractions from my life. Facebook was a big one, and food! I love food! I love french fries and beer and coffee and eggs and peppers and onions and spicy food and black bean burritoes from taco bell and all sorts of food really! I've realized that eating food is one of the things I've really looked forward to. And now...eating is not so exciting. I eat now because I'm hungry and I have to. I"m more concerned about making sure my body is getting enough nutrition then whether or not the food tastes good, or is what I'm in the mood for. Usually in the past if I was depressed or stressed, I'd grab a snack, or make some comfort food. If I'm tired in the morning, I know a cup of coffee will get me going, or at least make me happier.
Now all of those things are gone. It's just me. Me and me. And thoughts, and the quiet. When I'm up and about, I'm ok, I do my thing, I'm adjusting to the diet. But when I'm alone, when I don't have to go to work, it's really hard to get out of bed. I know I'm depressed, but it's a different kind of depression. Maybe it's just a deeper layer. Maybe since I have no more distractions I am forced to BE with my feelings, 100%.
I've noticed this change and I know it's only beginning. This effect, probably more than any health stuff may keep me going on this diet. In my free time I am forced to be alone for the most part. My friend's birthday is tonight, so I'm going off a little for that, and my paternal grandparents are visiting next Tuesday, so I'll bend a little for that, but otherwise I'm not going out cuz I can't drink or eat really. I'm hoping I'll start practicing flute again and working on my goals, but I'm being so permissive with myself right now. It's like I'm on a pilgrimmage. Only instead of travelling anywhere in the world, I'm travelling within.
I'm really not sure how long I'll be able to keep this up, but I hope some good will come of it.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Here we go over the rainbow
If everything happens for a reason (not that I'm entirely sure that it does) then there must be a reason my relationships never last long. There must be a reason that I can't seem to find someone to share my life with. I'm very much trying to learn to be happy now, be content with life in this moment, always. But I'm lonely. I'm too often lonely for my tastes. I love alone time...but lately it's just gotten so lonely.
Listening to this song just now, Home, I was again reminded of how wonderful it can feel to have a partner in life. My mind wandered...and I thought of a few things. Of all the loves I've known, obviously none fit that "perfect-for-me" category. None lasted long enough or was so wonderful that I haven't been able to get over it with time. So most likely this relationship will be the same. In time, I'll get over it. (Hear the tone of slightly bitter resignment) It's going to be hard...it's always hard. Some have been more difficult than others, but it's never an easy thing. And yet none of these relationships ever spanned more than a short period of time. But what if I did find that perfect person? What if I found my "soul mate" and we spent decades of wonderful amazing happy growing loving learning time together ... and then I lost him?
I truly can't even imagine what that would be like.
And when I imagine that pain, and put it in perspective of this pain...this pain kinda pales in comparison. This pain falls right off the "pain" scale into the realm of slight discomfort or frustration.
Maybe I do get too dependent on the emotional refuge of a significant other.
Maybe I will never find that perfect-for-me person until I can emotionally handle losing them.
So I guess I better start now. In the grand ol' biggy scheme of things....this sadness I feel is pretty insignificant.
Not that I'm dismissing my pain. I've learned to honor my heart and the emotions it feels....but maybe I just need to take my heart out of it's hiding place more often, on a hot air balloon ride....maybe my heart needs to grasp the perspective my mind has been trying to force on it for years. Except maybe it's just that I've been doing it all wrong. Trying to just make rules, order the heart into submission. "UNDERSTAND!!! I COMMAND YOU!!" Yeah...cuz that ever works. Uh..no.
I'm sure this seems simplistic to a great many number of people....but it's a subtle little amazing paradigm shift for me. Maybe I just need to say to my heart, "ok, this is gonna be scary, but we're going on a little trip...but it's an adventure...so if you focus on the excitement, and the hope of better things...when we reach the other side there will be rainbows, and joy, and love, and indescribable beauty....all of these of a caliber that you cannot yet - even - fathom."
Friday, January 18, 2013
First Snow
The night sky stretched on forever, clear and dark. Stars shining as only the stars of winter can. Snow-hushed sounds seemed nearer, more real..alive. I stood for a moment, after arriving home, in the yard - bundled and laden down with bags and boxes. I took in the white layer of frosting coating everything, making it seem different and new again, even in the darkness. Aldebaron, my favorite star, and my favorite constellation, The Pleides, shone bright above my house, sinking now towards the horizon. Our first snow of the season - so late - but it felt good.
I stood, for a moment, to be in the moment. The air was warm for winter, three inches of crumbling snow on the ground...I could hear the running of rivulets...melting snowflakes sluicing off a roof or tree somewhere. A bird (or a dog) making strange noises in the distance. I crunch-srushed in my brand new hot pink sneakers to my door and unlocked it to go in. My kitty stood waiting, but now unsure if she really wanted to venture out onto the white ground.
I came out again, for the second and final load of groceries and things. I breathed in deep the air, looking all around -
- the Snow -
- the Sky -
- the Sounds -
- and as I srush-stepped back towards my home I smiled....so blessed.
I stood, for a moment, to be in the moment. The air was warm for winter, three inches of crumbling snow on the ground...I could hear the running of rivulets...melting snowflakes sluicing off a roof or tree somewhere. A bird (or a dog) making strange noises in the distance. I crunch-srushed in my brand new hot pink sneakers to my door and unlocked it to go in. My kitty stood waiting, but now unsure if she really wanted to venture out onto the white ground.
I came out again, for the second and final load of groceries and things. I breathed in deep the air, looking all around -
- the Snow -
- the Sky -
- the Sounds -
- and as I srush-stepped back towards my home I smiled....so blessed.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Sunday, October 14, 2012
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 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.
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.
Thursday, July 05, 2012
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.
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.
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.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
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...
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...
Thursday, June 07, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 06, 2012
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...
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...
Thursday, May 31, 2012
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???
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???
Thursday, May 24, 2012
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. :)
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. :)
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
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.
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.
Monday, May 14, 2012
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!
"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!
Saturday, May 12, 2012
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. :)
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. :)
Saturday, April 28, 2012
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....
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....
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