October 26, 2008

i ordered coffee, but not vice versa

i'm writhing gently in a delicious new sweater. we met at a freestore. perfect arm length, smoky orange, comfortable texture; luscious.

recent interactions have been nourishing and playful. they include meetings, cuddles, breakfasts, children and old friends. also, tzadeka's album, available here, although you have to email them. this album is worth ten bucks.

it's interesting watching misplaced emotions in myself. events from the past that threaten to recur feel, well, threatening. but my sub-conscious, while intuitive, is not foolproof when it comes to identifying threats. a friend and i were chatting about how the subconscious can sometimes latch onto erroneous reasoning simply because it wants to latch onto something Now. like a dog afraid of the tree that got stuck by lightning. i feel like saying to my subconscious "dude, you don't have to solve the problems of your past over and over in your friends, romances, jobs. they're done. if you want to get all pissy about it, judge whether you passed or failed, but please recognise that the test is over." i keep replaying it.

great talk with an old friend over poutine and a bison sausage breakfast dish at B's diner. he reminded me that my opinion of people being unhappy or things being sad is my opinion only. that was helpful in assuaging the guilt i feel in regards to a recent series of events. namely, i tried to help someone who reminded me of a major player in my past. it was emotionally dangerous, of dubious use and rather difficult, but i really needed to try. no, i was not detached. no, it didn't work. yes, i still feel responsible for things outside of my control. no, that makes no sense.

it's good to be honest with myself about how ridiculous my actions can be. humour softens. these things are done best over breakfasts at diners. watch out for the coffee though. i got fried on it and then went to a meeting, and had some trouble staying focused. and not vibrating off the couch. i'm still getting occasional spikes of 'wired' coursing through my system. and and and.

i like getting out more and involving myself with community, but i missed solo time to relax this weekend. now i find myself tired on a sunday night, still with things undone (granted, that's normal), and slightly more stressed out than i might have been if i had spent a slow weekend doing 'my thing'. but i also feel happy. like i have a larger purpose and i am fulfilling it.

October 20, 2008

repainting the interior walls

lots of great inspiration this week about being true to oneself. my roommate came home with a book about why working on yourself doesn't work. i haven't read it so i won't recommend it, but the premise was an interpretation of the law of attraction which for once, didn't irritate me (stop telling me how to manifest a mansion in an age of seemingly endless greed, thanks). i won't sum the book up, because again, i haven't read it, but i will say that it helps to consider that i might not be best served by moving a mountain of strange childhood. instead, just notice where on the mountain i am right now.

that kind of simplicity accounted for most of my weekend. the simplicity of it is almost as amazing as how easily i forget how simple being happy can be. even as i was writing about it, i was forgetting: surround yourself with the things that actually make you happy, like food and friends and co-creation. these things are inexpensive, they are locally found, they are common. then i found this great TEDtalk about how intimacy is healing. guy went and proved it! ah, life is sweet. so i emerged from my cocoon of misery. and connected with an old friend in a way that renewed my trust. i love it when my trust gets renewed without any pressure on the part of my ego.

finally, today i found a neat blog with an inspirational string about changing habits and setting goals. and i realized that through the healing i have been giving myself, i actually feel way better about my body (and how it deserves to be healthy, not because it's my responsibility, but because my body is a clean, lovely awesome piece of earth, not the dirty garbage society claims it to be).

i found that when i allowed myself to really, really feel crappy, things changed. but it was hard to just let myself feel that way. not dwell in it or rationalize it, but not try and solve it either. what happened was something along the lines of me listening to myself. and once my two-year-old, ten-year-old and twenty-year-old all felt listened to, they could stop repeating their fears, crimes and sorrow.

i have no doubt that the emotional self-care i've been practising for years helped that process. but the actual healing involved no journals.

October 17, 2008

oh, that wasn't the peak after all!

i feel like my heart hurts, but as the untitled rumi poem states,

whoever finds love
beneath hurt and grief

disappears into emptiness
with a thousand new disguises.

i looked into why i let go and found that love was underneath my actions. specifically, i found my shortcomings and my efforts to sabotage something i wasn't actually ready for, even as i wanted it. to let go now instead of "try, try again" is to trust my judgment, my feelings on where i am at and what i am willing and committed to. i took off the rose-coloured spectacles, and maybe less pain will happen because of that. there doesn't seem to be a shortage of pain.

i'm finding an adventurous aspect of pain, well, it's interesting. it's engaging. it's not a well-balanced diet but there is something to it that nurtures me. a friend once told me of his gradual conversion plan to re-label time that could be called "depression" as self-care time; quiet, soft, nurturing little licks of attention and gentleness given by him to him.

and you know, i'm still hungry for life. still ready to rejoice in a thousand new disguises. still wondering what i'll do next and where it will take me. looking forward to unpacking it.

October 7, 2008

small gem

trust might not be necessary in order to love, but trust seems to be required in order to be loved. how can i receive your love if i do not trust you? why would you open to my affections and attentions when you doubt my motives?

trust is a cornerstone of reciprocal love.

October 6, 2008

pushups for pushovers

i had a strong day today, as a lovely friend of mine might say. it's funny how when i'm feeling depressed, even strong days are muted.

but it's refreshing to be able to identify depression more often in the present, instead of in hindsight. and sometimes, it can be like water; makes moving harder, but easily negotiated, simply requiring knowledge of its state. once i know i'm moving in water, i can swim instead of walk, i can learn from my environment and adapt my behaviour. so what does the state of depression offer my intelligent scrutiny? not trying to solve it, just notice it.

convinces me it's heavy.
space inside feels smaller.
activities seem futile, how? change seems just out of reach... order reigns.

i was reading today about diversity and life needing it. oops! right, just in case. how could we forget? more than one way. right. got it. diversity. of course. yet i forget my own life needs it. or rather, i assume it will exist always. i mean, it's chaos, know what i'm sayin? but i guess we can beat it out of ourselves. or at least, into retreat. so, champion disorder. but, but, my mind insists, messiness isn't always the sign of a creative mind, sometimes it's a sign of a sick one.

i think the balance is harmony. bits of buzz n flutter; occasionally sweeping out the leaves. not ordered to death, not unsustainable tumult. so easy on paper. diversity. harmony.

right. on it. zzzzzen away! lightly, spaciously.

October 5, 2008

follow the cat's example

i think a rejuvenation of sorts has occurred. i skipped all gatherings (except a board meeting), washed the walls, did laundry, journalled about love and abundance and read the newspaper. i talked to the practical, happy people in my life. i thought about lovely things and made a big meal. i hugged the cat.

i feel more well. a lovely friend was talking about taking her fresh new lifestyles with a grain of salt, knowing that they tend not to overcome the ingrained habits right away all at once, but also of knowing when enough was enough and she had best get up off her ass and get to it. it was a nice mixture of 'take it easy' and 'just do it'.

i still feel tired and uncertain, a little wound up. a daily practice of basking in love will probably ease out all that old tension. it's so interesting to remember how many directions i receive love from: the role of giving in love and the pleasure of reciprocity, and how all this sharing happens within me as well as outside me. intralove and interlove. treehugging, childrearing, meditation. oh my.

October 1, 2008

swearing doesn't change things

dang. just when everything is getting sorted out, a wrench gets tossed in by some dissident aspect of fate. the log cabin turns out to have been a house of cards. can't blame the wind for blowing.

sometimes i wonder how much our actions actually affect our fates. i think it's our 'big picture' beliefs (acted out in tiny ways) that affect our fates more than the discernible, labeled actions that we use to justify and blame ourselves and each other (it's not the cheating, it's the belief that you deserved it last time so it will happen again, right?). every now and then, the fog of self-destructive patterns lift. and we see. and it's amazing and all okay. but... it's hard to act on the pivotal moments that 'change everything' when the world-shrinking beliefs are so familiar. and they promise to change nothing.

except they do. the rotten beliefs we quietly invest in about 'how people are' and 'what happens when i'm vulnerable' just lie about reality to us. "no no, you won't have to change a bit. everything will be the way you expect it to be." and then they steal our power to change. "can i borrow this? you won't need it," they say silkily into our ears. and we shiver, but we ignore it. we take the offer. after all, we're so tired.

days, weeks, months, never, later we realize what we lost. the ability to work for the life we want and belief in our own power to make change. and that's another lie. we lost nothing but the chances that passed in the meantime. chances are part of the weather system; they will generally come around again, we just need to be prepared.

for now, i think i'll cry. maybe tomorrow, scarlett. maybe tomorrow the pieces will line up like they always do, and i'll walk away instead of playing to lose.