I'm thinking it might not be the wisest of ideas to post some of my deepest innermost neuroses and musings in a public forum, especially one that connects to my MySpace page. A realization such as this might be self-evident to most people.
I am not most people. I am an idiot.
I think esoteric, tangential ponderings might be safe. But anything connected to specific events perhaps should be avoided. Cuz I could really fuck some shit up.
Ugh. Experimental theater.
Again I say ugh.
I went to a friend's show tonight. It was a little piece of CRAP mounted on the lower east side. That kind of thing makes me glad to not be involved in theater at the moment. Good god I am so sick of seeing BAD theater. I can't even remember the last time I saw a good show.
I'm so not into theater right now. Was I ever, really? I was into doing it, just not so much watching it. It's like when I played piano. My favorite to play was classical; but I've always hated listening to classical music. And singing? Loved singing showtunes; but hated llistening to them. As a teenager I loved writing poetry. Never liked reading it.
What's up with that divide? Is it a common phenomenon? Common phenomenon. That's fun to say.
Now, when it comes to health and counseling stuff...I like doing it, I like reading about it, I like researching it, I like talking about it, I like the people involved in it.
Integration, I think, is what's happening here. And it's way cool.
My uncle is dying. Any day now.
I've been saying those words for the last six months now.
He's dying of smoking induced cancer. It started with emphysema and graduated to cancer. Now it's riddling his body and has insinuated itself into his brain. About eight months ago, he was given about two months left to live. I like to say that he's past his expiration date.
It is so unbelievably taxing and draining to have someone constantly on the brink of death. Imagine forever having that tickling nose like you're about to sneeze--but you can't. Imagine being right up against that moment when you're about to come--but never achieving full release. Imagine hearing Shave and a Haircut, but never the Two Bits.
Simplistic, corny and inappropriate metaphors. I'm trying to convey the stress of this edge and I'm doing a piss-poor job.
I'm not even close to my uncle. If this were my mother was was taking so very long to finally let go? I can only imagine that drawn-out pain.
With my distance, though. I feel no guilt in knowing that it is time for him to LET GO. He needs to release from life and in turn release his loved ones from being shackled to his never-ending ever-impending death.
I do, however, feel guilt with my anger. I'm angry at him for still holding on. I'm angry at him for refusing to pass on. I'm angry at him for valuing his life of no remaining quality enough to drain the quality from the lives of those he is leaving behind.
At first, I chided myself for thinking that way. It isn't very generous, loving or light-filled.
Maybe it isn't the blissed-out super spiritual tack. But it's real and it's valid. I'm not ignoring or denying the anger, even if I'm not entirely comfortable with it. Anger at the dead or dying is not the most socially sanctioned of emotions, but it's more common than people like to admit.
And it's even more common than that.
There are really a limited number of ways you can meet a new dating prospect. Of course there are millions of permutations…there are so many different ways two people’s paths can cross. But all of them can pretty much fit into two basic categories:
Someone entirely new is just that. Maybe you met online, maybe they asked for your number after talking with you for twenty minutes at a random bar. Whatever the circumstance, for you they have NO CONTEXT.
And herein, for me, lies the problem.
When it is someone entirely new, I HAVE NO CONTEXT! I don’t know what their personality is like; I don’t know how they are with other people or how they are around other girls. I don’t know if they’re always that way, or if just with me. I don’t know if they’re a poseur or for real. I don’t know if they’re a superstar or a superdork.
Sure, sure. I know I should only rely on my own instincts and fairly give them every chance and analyze the situation with an open mind and blank slate. Yadda yadda. Ew. I just wrote yadda yadda. I’ll try never to do that again.
Anyway. My issue isn’t so much with whether or not I figure out if they’re a loser or not. I just don’t know what to do about reading the body language.
I went out with this new guy last night. Second night we’d met, first night we’d gone out. So far, I totally dig him. Intelligent, creative, complex, well-rounded, funny, cute (fuck cute, he’s hot!), warm, blah blah. Good things. A couple hours into the evening, he kissed me. And damn was it a nice kiss. Absolutely lovely, as a matter of fact. So throughout the rest of the evening, there was lots more kissing. Lots.
But it wasn’t that lusty, urgent, “I must have your panties in a bunch on my bedroom floor in the next twenty minutes” kind of kissing. It was passionate, yes, but it was also warm and tender and gentle. And it wasn’t just kissing, it was the arm around my waist, and the leaning into me and the cuddling while listening to a band play. Basically, if an objective observer had seen the body language between us, they would have thought we’d been going out much longer than just a first date.
THIS IS THE KIND OF BEHAVIOR THAT CONFUSES THE HELL OUT OF ME.
A big objective part of me says to just take it for what it was…nothing more than the enjoyment of bodies and closeness and all that jazz. But the primal, basic part of my brain feels that sort of body language, revels in it, but wants to know WHAT is this guy’s agenda?
Is he always like this with girls? Is he one of those super flirty super affectionate guys that leads women on not with his words, but with his actions? Or is he forthright? Perhaps he was truly feeling that kind of closeness. Was I the “pretend girlfriend” of the evening, hardly to hear from him again? Or maybe he is genuinely interested.
I’m not ACTUALLY stressing about this like the post makes it seem. But I was left wondering a bit after last night. It's strange...I'd know better where we stood if we'd just fucked. It's that sweet, sensitive stuff that I've never quite gotten a handle on.
Tricky thing, dating. Hell, getting to know ANYONE completely new can be uncomfortable. You never know quite where you stand for awhile. That tenuousness is so disconcerting.
All that being said…GREAT fucking weekend. Seriously.
The last weekend workshop I took part in was a workshop on closure. something we all need and seldom get in the way we truly desire. At the time of the workshop, I had JUST broken up with my last boyfriend. So I wrote this closure letter to him--of course never meant to be mailed...simply an exercise.
Most of the content is no longer relevant, but there's one phrase I keep revisiting, because it wasn't so much about him, but more about my own repeating patterns. Anyway. Here's the whole thang:
Tim-How surprisingly difficult it is for me to call you my "ex-boyfriend". Not that you were my boyfriend for such a long amount of time that now the added prefix is a hiccup in my speech...but that I never really had a definition for what we were, so how do I define what we now are?
There was nothing in our coming together that was completely whole--it was always lacking (Clyde's word, that, the "lack"). And now, in a way, it is still the same partiality, the same lack, that exists. But I do need a precise definition, I think, because the limbo is killing me.
We can't have lovely days anymore. We can't have evenings where we trick ourselves into feeling that a beautiful relationship still is there. Because then when we have the conflict and the ugly arguments, the contrast is for me too great. It is jarring and painful and confusing. It is unhealthy and it makes me behave unhealthily.
You are a good person. You are not toxic. But the way we are interacting right now is. Still--how hard is it to rip off that bandaid? Neither one of us wants to do it, but once again I'm finding myself the one whose shoulders that burden falls upon.
I'm a self-sufficient person. As are you. We've both spent so much time in our lives alone and needing no partner. So when we came together, we reveled in that luxury of "ally" perhaps a bit too deeply. Like a starving child, we gulped the feast down far too quickly--and so quickly we were sick.
Now we've got to go it alone once again. And what should be familiar and easy is somehow a challenge neither one of us expected. For me, to suddenly be "without", to have lost my ally, to feel the distance widen and the connection vanish--it has been so very painful.
We've talked about how sad this all is, how we wish it could be different. And we know that it can't be. We've talked about how we have no regrets and how the love still exists even if the reality doesn't work. We've talked about needing the other still in our lives. I do feel that way and I also know that it just isn't good. I cannot be with you and not be with you. I will be able to--but not now. It's wreaking havoc on my body and my mind.
I have no idea what else to say. I feel that it has all been said--in some cases talked to death--and all that's left is now to cope with and tolerate the messy aftermath.
So. Obviously in the intervening couple of months since I wrote this letter, the circumstances have greatly changed. The situation no longer pains me like it did. I have in fact seen him several times without any reverberating emotions. That in itself is a little sad, as it always is when love dies. But it feels wonderful to have let go of something that was very broken. I knew before he and I even started that it wasn't going to last; but I was curious enough to want to find out where it would go. I never expected actual feelings to be stirred!
But the bit that I keep going back to is the part about being a starving child and subsequently overindulging. Not in any literal sense, although my past behaviors mimic that as well, but more so in the energetic frame. It's as if once I get a little taste of something I discover I need or even simply desire, I am bent to go overboard. I meet someone who sparks my interest and I suddenly want to be near them all the time. And that's not just in the romantic realm. I get friend crushes, too. I'll meet some chick I think is just amazing, and I suddenly want to be her BFF. And am hurt when I am most understandably not!
It ain't logical. It feels veeeery young. I know some of the sources, but I'm still digging to find the real root. In the meantime I seek to cope with the feelings that come up in a healthy way, and to continue prodding so that the pattern can eventually fade into nothing.
Stuff I love:
See? I CAN write a positive post.
So There.
The last 10 to 15 minutes or so of my yoga class consist of laying in the corpse pose in silent meditation. At the start of this final pose, my yoga instructor, J., chants. It's the most amazing sound
His voice vibrates and resonates on an auditory plane that cuts right to my inner energy. It's as if I'm an infant in my crib and my daddy is crooning a lullaby; I'm a woman in my lover's embrace and he's singing me to sleep; I'm pure spirit in a cloud-like nest and the universe is cradling me in its giant arms.
And after that...silence.
While the spiritual/physical connection is always wonderful, today I wasn't quite as "in" it as usual, which is why I think the following affected me as it did. During the silence, I heard people talking out in the lobby. I heard a man's voice, and I had a moment of panic. I thought, for a second, that J. had walked out and left me and my classmate alone. Suddenly I felt abandoned.
It only took a matter of seconds to realize that J. was indeed still in the room with us; but that fleeting moment of panic was enough to set my wheels spinning.
What deep fear did that moment tap into?
What does it mean to be seen? To be watched over? To be validated? To be protected?
What does it mean for someone to care?
As an only child, now grown into an single adult woman living alone in a big bad city...I've become quite used to solitude. I'm familiar with entertaining myself, mothering myself, disciplining myself, playing with myself--the basic gamut. But it's all easier when someone cares.
For Rob Brezsny to care to have us write down our most painful issues so that he could take them home, pray over them, and burn them...that moved me to tears.
For J. to care to stay in the room with us in our silence, holding the energy of the space to keep us safe...I need that.
For Samantha to care to call me because she hadn't heard from me in a few days and was concerned because "that wasn't like" me...it made me feel loved.
It would be nice to be self-contained enough so that I wouldn't care if others cared. I wish I could be that blase. But I'm not a good liar and my face never succeeds in concealing my true emotions. I CARE. I need people to care about me.
Earlier I indulged myself in a little pity party: nobody made sure I had Thanksgiving plans..Nobody wonders what I'm doing this weekend..Nobody is curious what I'm doing right now. Blah angsty blah trite blah poor fucking blah me.
I tried to type that crap in earlier, but I couldn't do it. Well, obviously I could cuz it's THERE. But I couldn't leave it sans self-referrential context because it was just too fucking LAME. I'm sure that in reality, there are indeed people out there who care. Not just my mother, but real live other people who aren't obligated to give a crap just because we share the same DNA. Sometimes though, especially when the days get shorter and colder and the season steals people away, it can be easy to forget.
The holidays fucking suck.
And it ain't even December yet.
Lisa -- I tried to write a positive post. But shit is up right now and although I can act, I can't pretend.
Recognize yourself. Take a look.
Okay, everything externally is unfamiliar. Okay, the interactions, the patterns, the structure, the style, the LIFE is unfamiliar.
But look in the cosmic mirror.
See that bubbling silver surface?
It wants to show you something. It wants to help you say hello to yourself. It's there for you.
Lean into it embrace it kiss it lick it make love to it worship it.
Fuck yourself with tenderness.
Viciously self-love.
Sometimes even those of us who are so actively striving to be the healthiest we can be,
Those of us who work towards assisting others in achieving balanced health,
We who desire to free everyone from fucked up food relationships and
Damn it.
Sometimes I still do fucked up shit to myself.
I can try and make it seem poetic and enlightened and acceptable as part of the learning process.
But, damn it.
It's.
Fucked.
Up.
Lately, my sexual drive has been, um, highly active.
Not that I'm getting any extra action. But I'm feelin' the fire.
I think it's because I'm exercising more than ever, I'm thinner than ever, and I'm practicing yoga, which is linking my spirit with my body in a way I've never before explored.
I'm connecting the soul to the corporeal. The upshot is I'm freaking horny!
Okay, I really hate that word.
I'm sexually charged.
Like a frigging light bulb. I'm hormonally electric.
Zip zap.
My brain won't shut up.
It's 2:18 in the morning. I'm so tired my eyeballs feel swollen. So why aren't I asleep?
MY BRAIN WON'T SHUT UP.
I hate when this happens.
I was such an asshole.
Backstory:
Long time ago I dated this guy--um, "Red"--for a little while. He continually led me on, which made me feel like shit and prodded me into unhealthy behaviors like late-night stuffing (the kind mentioned in my "Bye-Bye Mercury" post). During that period, another friend--he'll be "Frank"--was a sounding board for all the drama. He helped me through the tears and offered wonderful advice and guidance. Even though Frank never met Red, he hated him.
Meanwhile--about a year later--Red and I are now friends. I don't desire him any more in a romantic way AT ALL. But of course because I no longer want him, he wants me a little. Keeps trying "things", ya know? Typical. And so easily deflectable.
But I was an asshole.
Last night I was an asshole for two reasons. One I've owned up to and apologized for. The other...well...I guess I'm not done being a jerk.
The One Where I Later Behaved Like A Grown-Up and Took Responsibility:
Frank and Red met last night for the very first time. Big party, not a private little affair or something. I don't know what the hell compelled me, but I told Red that Frank hated him. WTF is up with that high school bullshit? After beating myself up a little I realized that the immature dig arose because a small part of me is still harboring some pain and resentment because of Red's long-ago behavior. Clear and partially understandable. So I called Red and apologized. At first he didn't understand why I thought I was an asshole. But after a little explanation he completely got it. I hope acknowledging and apologizing was the right thing to do and wasn't just a self-centered catharsis.
The Second Reason I Was An Asshole:
I'm leading him on. I have NO interest in this man anymore. But I flirt. I touch his arm when we talk and I let him put his arms around my waist when he's standing beside me. I laugh and speak in a bubbly manner. I sweetly deflect his advances with just the right amount of sultry eye contact to keep him reaching for more. Granted, I *really* don't think he's emotionally affected by the "lead-on" like I was back in the day when the tables were turned.
However.
It ain't right.
I try to live an integrated, ethical life. So I gots to stop. Sure sure...harmless flirtation can be all well and good. But this feels icky. I don't want to feel icky. And I know I'm just doing this because he has connections and other accessories that I may want in the future.
A bit assholic am I.
So I've been told I'm living in the "pseudo".
I think this living in the pseudo might be related to my issue with "contempt".
Which in turn, of course, is all about the confusion between love and pity.
All of which is tied to my lingering borderline thinking.
And attachments.
Fun and games and party tricks.
The dance of re-creation. I've seen it become a repetitious tragedy for some. At least I haven't worn a gutter of a track lap just yet.
But this awareness of contempt thing is funny. It reminds me of when I was very close to a friend who was an active AA participant (one of the now many I know) and she taught me how to take inventory. All day long I was writing down my F.E.A.R.s (False Evidence Appearing Real). It astounded me how much of my behavior and thought patterns were motivated by these fears. And now--how much is contempt? How is this useful for me?
Well, it does coddle the ego--if the sole source of ego is external comparison and affirmation. Which is BAD. It soothes, I suppose. But on a childish level.
Really, though, an ideology of contempt doesn't serve. It's borne of and feeds the borderline pattern: If I'm good, you're bad. If you're good, I'm bad. Black 'n' White.
But! Here's a kicker--so I'm thinking borderline and I'm addicted to contempt. Okay...then how is it--How is it--that I'm also (and I am) LIVING IN THE PSEUDO.
The wishy-washy. Leaving too many "options" open. Afraid to take a stand. Not being clear. Not being clear with other people. Not being clear in what I want. Not being clear with myself.
Ever have one of those nights that leaves you reeling, yet you're still not entirely sure why?
Without going into too much detail...
Last night began on a precarious note. I was fighting a sore throat (I won, by the way, and despite the lack of sleep woke up having beaten the cold that was trying to grip me.) and I was very tired. Two conditions that are sure to put me in an emotionally vulnerable state.
Then some stuff happened.
Ha!
Okay a little more. That friend I fooled around with before; we began to fool around again. Third time now. And then he stopped it. That hurt. But we talked--a lot--and after much thought today I think it would be best for our friendship if we didn't fool around anymore. Screwing up a good connection just for the sake of, well, screwing? Bleah. This conclusion I reached after meditating deeply about something else he said later on in our difficult conversation. He said:
You don't want to fuck. You don't want the dirty nasty hard fuck that we've been playing around at. Maybe you did once, but now you want to be held. You want your hair stroked. You want to be hugged and reassured and told you're all right.
It also felt like a rejection, even if it (a) wasn't and (b) is emotionally better for me if we do cut the foolin'.
I was angry, too. How dare he assume he knows what I want or need? How dare he make me vulnerable and see me cry? How dare he be right?
Can't I want both, though? Can't I want the loving, gentle touch and the rough and raunchy? Can't I want to be held and stroked and manhandled? And if I'm not getting one (the love I desire) why not get the other?
After he left around 2 AM, an old OLD ugly behavior reared its head. I stuffed. I ate a bowl of pomegranate seeds, a plate of sweet potato and kohlrabi, and a huge handful of pecans. I felt like shit. On the plus side, I didn't purge, so that's a shift.
Yeah, I know. Really healthy for a health-counselor-to-be, yes? At least it wasn't Ben & Jerry's.
I woke up feeling trainwrecked. So today I'm left wondering was that a bad evening or a good evening? (I'm leaning towards good.) Was it painful or deep? (Both.) Was it friendship builder or a friendship destroyer? (I hope and am pretty sure it's the former, not the latter.) Was it healthy or toxic? (Let's hope healthy.) Necessary or dramatic? (Probably a little of both.)
Ack. Categorizations are impossible and useless.
Fucking Mercury in retrograde. Planetary pull is a bitch.
If you haven't picked up Rob Brezsny's Pronoia or Televisionary Oracle or at least checked out his astrology at Free Will Astrology...then you're MISSING OUT!!!
Tonight I was blessed to see Rob speak/perform/transmit goodwill at the Chapel of Sacred Mirrors in NY.
Well, that was the kick in the chakra I needed to get me out of the funk. He's such a gift. Empowering and sacred and profane and connected and singular and just fucking incredible.
Yeah. I drank this Koolaid.
And better for it.
I've done a few health histories for my studies at the Institute for Integrative Nutrition. Those haven't necessarily sparked my fire very much. However, in getting people to do the histories with me, I've had the opportunity to talk a bit about why I'm studying health and nutrition and all that jazz.
And that does get my nipples hard. (To quote a holistic health counselor I know.)
Thank the universe I'm starting to find again why I'm doing what I'm doing. Because I forgot there for awhile and was mired in a bit of angsty frustration. That, coupled with my unrelated recent bout of depression...
Oy.
Is this the rounding of a corner? That would be loverly.
Even though I realize these feelings are temporary, as all emotions are, it's difficult to not act from a fatalistic worldview right now.
How is it that my attitude or focus or mood can change so dramatically so quickly and seemingly without impetus?
I'm finding it very difficult to resist being self-destructive right now. I'm thinking about food constantly. I'm eating too much, even if what I'm eating isn't "bad". Seriously, how bad can a little extra polenta or a few too many olives be? Of course, there was that vegan cookie yesterday...
I'm also thinking about alcohol. Not that I have EVER had a problem, but I don't like drinking out of need to feel better, as it seldom works and is inherently not the best of ideas.
But worst--I'm thinking about Vicodin. I have a couple hundred in my medicine cabinet--party favors from back surgery--and I RARELY use them. Hence having so many left over. But I've been thinking about them.
They do take the pain away, you know?
See, this is what shocks me. That a mere couple of weeks ago--or even a week!--I could be elated and glorious. I was filled with a boundless energy of positive emotion. And now I'm thinking of drugging myself???
Demons, anyone? Apparently I have more than my fair share.
I wonder if my voice is being heard. It feels like a mouthful of foam.
I'm not a bright and shining star.
I don't know who I am or where I'm going or what I want anymore.
I'm out of sight and out of mind and even out of sight when seen.
But most important I'm unimportant. In the same way that we're all unimportant. I'm amazing in the same way we're all amazing. I'm boring in the same way we're all boring. I'm incredible the same way you are. I'm interchangeable.
I have been invited to become part of an already well established holistic health company. To start off with, I would be the client care specialist, with the opportunity to become one of their team of counselors after more training within the company.
Becoming a part of this organization would severely curtail my own ability to start a private business. However, it also offers a rare possibility to become a part of something that could become huge. I know that many other people are clamoring for this position that is being offered to me, all of them already graduates of IIN. But I don't know if it is what I want.
One argument in favor of joining this company is that it is SERIOUSLY hard to start your own successful business. My father did it. He built a multi-national publicly traded empire from the extra room in our condo. It took ALL his time and energy. He is totally type "A" self-starter. I am extremely organized, abundantly creative, and fiercely independant. But I'm also lazy and I hate the "entrepreneurial" side of business. One of the reasons I turned my back on the acting world (at least for the time being) is that I hated having to constantly promote myself. It was like being on a never-ending job interview. I fear that the procuring clients aspect and marketing aspect of starting my own business will be too daunting to me, even though i want the freedom and flexibility to be beholden to no one.
This is a limited time opportunity. I need to take advantage of it now. I've been assured that if I have special side projects, I would be free to pursue them. If I choose to build a client base that is not at all in conflict with their client base, I could see clients outside of their practice. I would be supported in building and leading workshops. This could be a golden freaking opportunity. I wonder if it is only my own fears of the unknown that is holding me back. Am I afraid of success?
I know that, however well intentioned people are, and however well crafted Joshua's methods for business building are, it is really really hard to make it on your own. It is extremely difficult to build a successful business, especially if one is doing it all by themselves. Would I be well advised to take advantage of what is being offered to me?
I know nobody would be able to give me 'THE ANSWER'. I know I can only come to that decision for myself. But I would greatly appreciate any input or advice.
It's one thing to hear a compliment. It's another to hear it, take it in, believe it, and make it a part of my cells, without doubt or judgement
I managed to take in a compliment the other day. I've been relishing it.
So here's what it was, and I'm paraphrasing. My friend said to me that he likes who he is when he is around me, and he carries that person with him when he leaves my presence.
Wow.
I just have to say that again.
WOW.
I was once where you are now
but I've worked through that issue.
I found this irritating for two reasons.
ONE: The person was assuming things about my situation that were not true.
TWO: Without meaning to, the person was being a little insulting and arrogant. I actually felt more pushed away than supported.
Do I ignore or address?
I realized today how much of my distaste for the kiddies who drank the Koolaid was actually about my own fears and resistances. I erect walls of defense when I am afraid of being seen. Or not being seen. Or being lost in a crowd. Or standing out in a crowd.
Thankfully, though my resistances (and teenage rebellions) used to last months, then weeks, then days... I grew out of it by lunchtime today. Now I'm seeking connection via the IIN online community.
I'm so grateful that I am aware enough of my own process to realize my own issues, experience them, explore them, and move through them. Wow, I'm all growned up and junk.
BUT I'M STILL NOT DRINKING ANY KOOLAID, DAMMIT!!!
Again, a post of possibly too much information. At least nobody really reads this blog...
So last night I fooled around with a friend of mine. No, this is not me wanting more. This is me having fun with a friend. I would much rather satisfy my need for physical and sexual contact with someone I know and trust than with a stranger I picked up in a bar.
But some thoughts and questions came to me. Although I thoroughly enjoyed myself, I found that I wasn't as "turned on" as I would like to have been. I had to ask myself why that was. I've encountered it before, when I've been in charged sexual situations, where "action" was happening, and my body just wasn't responding the way I would want it to. I have a theory.
I didn't feel like I really mattered. I didn't feel especially wanted or needed and while in one way that sparked my interest--O the challenge!--in another way it killed my desire.
I need to be desired.
I felt that it didn't matter if it was me. It mattered if I was there--playing with me was assuredly better than masturbation--but it didn't matter if it was ME. And I need to feel important. I need to feel important and special and beautiful and wanted and honored and worshipped and desired. I need to feel like more than simply a fun time and much more than a notch. I need to feel like A BIG DEAL.
I did feel attractive, at least. I did feel that I was arousing to him. But I wasn't MAGICAL. I like feeling that the person I'm with wants me so much that if I didn't reciprocate, he might be inclined to ravish me. A little unrealistically sado-masochistically romantic?
It was fun and in some ways necessary and satisfying. The human contact was lovely in a slightly sick and twisted way. Safe in some ways, highly dangerous in others. I have no idea if I'll do it again.
But it was nice, and I think healthy, to have a wild night in the midst of the bliss bunny weekend. I'm holistically inclined and spiritually bent, but I'm also a sexual being with a rock n roll heart. Paradox and dichotomy. I love it.
Some thoughts on my first weekend of classes at IIN:
How do I find the balance between taking in the information I desire, fully immersing in a community but still avoid feeling like a sheep in a cult? My natural instincts are FLEE FLEE FLEE. My teenager is resisting and rebelling and wanting to distance myself. My cynic is screaming.
Some of the graduates who spoke today seemed to attribute all their happiness and fulfillment to their experience with the school. In the past, I've run into some who have expected me to attribute my fulfillment to my previous 6 month program that I completed. I don't. It was a large part of my recent process, but I STRONGLY feel that my change, my process, my power, my voice--they come only from within myself. Laughing Sage Wellness (link to the right) was something I sought out when I was already along my path, not something that formed my path.
It sets my teeth on edge when people testify that they owe their happiness or relationships to a particular program. It is so disempowering!
And when they seem blissed-out--too happy, too cheery, too smiley, too bloody holy in a way--I just cringe.
Bliss Bunnies aren't real and they can't sustain it forever.
I love new friends. I love new friends who show up for me even better than old friends.
I love new jobs. I love new jobs that miraculously fit into my schedule and lifestyle better than if I had actually been out looking for a new job.
I love new toys. I love new battery-operated toys.
None of these things has anything to do with the other, except they all happened on the same day.
I love it.
This will probably fall under the category of way too friggin' much information, but...For quite some time now, I've believed my ovulatory cycle to be slightly, well, off. So I started using FAM (Fertility Awareness Method) to chart my cycle. It's more involved than "the rhythm method" of old, but can also be used as natural birth control. Which is good, since I refuse to ever get back on The Pill because it MAKES ME CRAZY LIKE A SCARY LADY. So I've been charting for a few months now. Three or four.
During that time, I have had two instances of excrutiatingly painful ruptured ovarian cysts. The last instance of this was just this last weekend. Goodbye Halloween plans, hello couch and heating pad.
So I already know that obviously SOMETHING is up. Well, tonight, my charting confirmed that in addition to not having the right type of cervical fluid, I have a very very short Luteal Phase. The Luteal Phase is the time that elapses between the releasing of the egg and the start of menstruation.
What does that mean? That means that if I ever want to have kids, it's going to be near impossible.
I had already decided a while back that I didn't want kids. Well, I was pretty sure I didn't want kids. I couldn't imagine kids in the foreseeable future. Not sure. Eh, we'll leave it up in the air. But mostly sure. So I don't know why, when I realized tonight that my Luteal Phase is indeed super short, I started crying. Yeah, I know, crying is a theme of mine lately. But this was huge. This was sobbing, rocking on the floor, holding my knees, laughing while crying because of the ridiculousness of my emotion, shaking, wondering what the hell I was doing crying. I'm not sure if I was mourning or relieved or validated or what.
In a strange way, I'm a little proud of myself. I've never really been able to let go like that when I've been alone. I've been able to reach wracking sobs when in the company of someone who loved me; but I've never been capable of holding myself through it. Although I feel raw, I also feel a sense of calm. I really "Mommy'd" myself tonight. I guess Mommying myself and my two kitties is the only kind of mommying I'll end up doing, huh?
Laughter through tears, baby, laughter through tears.
I am challenged by structure. It's just not my strong suit. Yet it's what I need so badly in order to not get lost in the nebulousness of my life. Nebulousness. It's a word. Now, anyway.
I haven't had a job in a loooong time. This is not a good thing for many reasons. Most importantly, I feel like a child when I'm not earning my own way in life. Less importantly, but vital for my well-being: without a job, I lack built-in structure.
I've learned to create artificial structure by having workout appointments, doctor's appointments, classes, workshops, and therapy. But when it comes to organizing the rest of my life, I fall short. Especially when I'm trying to accomplish anything where I'm not accountable to others. Even if it's something I really want to do.
I've been wanting to/meaning to paint this image I have in my brain now for a few months. But because nobody except myself is attached to the project, it just hasn't gotten done.
Today I worked for several hours at a cafe. Okay, I sort of have a job right now. I'm doing some freelance work for holistic health counselors. But here's the thing: I can't work at home. And I have to have internet access to do my job. So I bundle my things together and trek downtown to internet cafes. (The ones around here are cold and lifeless. Or Starbucks. Same thing.) At least out in a cafe, my little ADD brain has enough stimuli so that I don't find myself sabotaging my work with television, personal internet fun and games, phone calls, and myriad other distractions.
I look forward to the day when I can organize my days effectively. I look forward to being able to get work done at home. I look forward to accomplishing projects that matter to no-one but myself. For now, I'll sling my messenger bag over one arm and my laptop over the other. Look for me in the coffee bars.
In therapy yesterday, I explored the feeling a little bit using sound. What came out was a held, tight, sharp kind of sustained noise. It felt right, but I don't know what it means!
There it goes again. Skewed to the right this time. Sheesh!
Am I trying to re-align to the new shape of my life? Is a part of me still holding vise-like on my old existence? Am I gonna' need head gear?
I’m so excited and in love with it. I’m vibrating with everything new and amazing in my life. Every time I try to speak about how my world has changed and is changing, I start to cry. I cry because I’m eager and thrilled and confused and ecstatic and terrified and in awe.
I cried at the end of practicing Yoga again today. I’m very quick to tears right now and I don’t see an end to it anytime soon. And I’m so glad. For once, for the first time, I’m so glad I’m crying.
I realize that it's a challenge, but at some point, we all have to stop listening to the "stories" we are telling ourselves and dig in to find out what's really going on. Otherwise we're permanent toddlers. They call it "the terrible twos" for a reason. Don't get developmentally stuck there.
I may sound a little arrogant. But I'm human, I have limits, and I have reached them! I can no longer tolerate insipid, shallow individuals. I hate having to put up a wall to protect myself when I'm around such people; I'd love to be able to walk around vulnerable and transparant all the time. So they're slowly being cut from my life.
Snip snip.
