blankey blank blank

it's been forever - sorry, pigeon-mistress.

i've been struggling with the way my blogging has changed. i feel like this is more a chronicle of my activities and less a collection of my witticisms and epiphanies. le sigh. i still have witty and mind-blowing moments, i am just too busy or tired to write them down. maybe that will be my next rebellion. i try and rebel at least once a week. sometimes i stay up late drinking whiskey and writing letters, sometimes i furiously clean the house and pile sir mans-a-lot's various tools back down into the mancave, sometimes i have an illicit bath while the dumpling naps and the dishes pile up (because dishes spawn when you let them lie).

i've been driving more recently. it feels empowering. finally. we've got snow, but it isn't crazy icy yet. just cold.

the dumpling is growing and eats a lot. a lot. also, frequently. it seems like i just got her up and changed her, and then after eating we play for a bit and she goes down for a nap. planning outdoor activities requires a strict "move along, nothing to see here" attitude, which seems weird and forced. but we usually make it out of the house once a day. and we play a lot.

i'm having trouble getting to the stuff i like doing, but i drew a little this evening - oil pastels on a paper bag. fun.

anyway. might as well post this; it isn't getting any more interesting. what am i doing?
parenting takes the lead, learning new skills comes next, then maintenance tasks (laundry, pasta sauce), then art, then blogging and letter-writing. minimum exercise.

okay, here's a tidbit: my favourite feeding is the late night feeding right before i go to bed, especially if i get there first with a ready-to-go bottle. after she guzzles it back she stretches waaay out (like a starfish basking in the awesomeness of the ocean), and while i'm pulling the blankets up, she grabs a hold of the wool blankie knit by my aunt and pulls it over her head. dreams are merely seconds away.

layers of bacon

just got back from peanut's first road trip - out to visit the awesomes.

mr awesome has been working at the butcher's shop, and brings home amazingly fresh, amazingly local meat. the logical outcome to this is us eating bacon every day. one day we ate it twice. although it was very tasty, i think i might skip bacon for a few days now. we discussed making a bacon cake: start with meatloaf, but make an icing with bacon grease and maple syrup. of course, layers of bacon in the loaf are also called for.

a little bird was visiting the awesomes, so everything that came out of the kitchen was lovely and amazing, not just the bacon (can you really call bacon 'lovely' anyway? "that was some lovely bacon. i really don't remember the last time i had bacon so lovely." not so much). one breakfast, besides bacon, we had poached eggs on buckwheat with white sauce. yeah. i never would have thought of it either. buckwheat is tasty. kind of a nutty flavour. bacon bacon bacon (sorry).

there was also music-playing, though in truth i shied away from the creativity that everyone else got wrapped up in. i'm still recuperating, and i realised this weekend that i crave and need some down time to do so. i've been really focused on getting back to life; so much so that i've ignored my own pace. i was/am worried that i would 'take too long' and leave the queen holding down the fort, when he's already done so much. i wish i didn't operate so much from a "is this okay?" space. i hadn't seen it in a while, and hoped i'd kicked that lousy habit.

we caught some good wildlife on the 1200km round trip. troops of deer, of course. also, a lone coyote in a field and some travelling geese. some say it's the first robin, but i always see spring's arrival in the return of geese and RVs. and laundry out on the line, which we have.

hey poetry - thanks for the package! we didn't yet have a baby towel, and the pink monster hood suits the peanut's "just out of the bath" disposition!

tired. must watch movie.

just off the press - almost died

okay kids, i haven't abandoned the blog - i was in the hospital.

i guess when you have a fever and diarrhea after giving birth, you should get it checked out. by the time i did (i'm not really a go get it checked out person) my body was so run down they admitted me through emergency, took a bunch of bloodwork, a CAT scan, some x-rays, felt around my uterus (which was fine) and then sent me up to a bed where they put me on some saline because i was so dehydrated. the next day (i think; it's still a little fuzzy) they sent me to ICU. it was dodgy figuring out what was wrong with me, but what it turned out to be was that some strep A, which we have on the surface of our bodies and which does not harm us, somehow got into my abdomen and bred like crazy, so my organs were all swimming in terrible toxic liquid. so i got surgery; they sliced open my abdomen and drained about three litres of this nasty brew. then they put me on IV antibiotics. then they put a drain in my tummy, so more of the liquid could drain out and they could see if it was still making the nasty. then they put a needle in my back to drain more fluid, since i was having trouble breathing.

i had a crazy IV sticking out of my neck. i had a catheter. i was in the hospital for two weeks. at one point, they were feeding me through the IV. i had staples in my belly (they were very scary-looking). in fact, i almost died. yeah. bit of a shocker. but hey! now i'm on the mend. it's a very slow mend, but it is a mend. i can't pick up the little peanut; she's too heavy for me. she's been drinking formula for so long, and i'm so tired of facing hurdles, that i have decided not to keep trying to breastfeed. this makes me sad, but i just can't face another battle.

so invasive western medicine saved my life - i owe it an apology. i judged you, western medicine. but i see there is a time and a place for you. hopefully never again in my life. i don't think i have really processed it yet; almost dying, i mean. i think that will take a while. but i am very, very happy that i get to watch my daughter grow up, that i get to go camping this summer, that i get to marry the queen (yeah, we're gonna get hitched!). i feel very grateful. i haven't had my good cry yet, but i will feel grateful for that too, when it comes.

i know it will wear off, because gratitude always does, but i hope i can nurture this feeling of fresh new day for a while. i hope i can remember.

and hey! i got to try morphine! actually, i got a health-care-funded drug trip; one of the nursing students, bless her, accidentally gave me more than i was supposed to get, and i had a grand old time! when she realised what she had done (poor girl was so upset; i teased her about it until she started smiling again, but i'm guessing she'll be triple-checking dosages for quite a while now) there was suddenly a team of medical staff in my room. someone asked me how i was doing and i said "morphined...". hey, i think as far as mistakes go, that was an awesome one. the comedown is shit though.

so hey, enjoy your abdominal muscles, and think about the irony that i worked so hard to avoid a c-section, had my lovely homebirth (birth story coming, i promise) and then ended up getting surgery and will now have a frankenstein scar running down the length of my abdomen (around my bellybutton). it's okay; scars are sexy.

unravelling

i really like this xkcd comic, mostly for the message in the scrollover. i have an amazingly good ability to make myself feel like shit for feeling like shit. i've been practicing said ability for years, so it makes sense that i'd be good at it by now. being smart and able to form decent arguments are skills that can be put to use when flogging oneself. none of this explains why i would do it, but then, science doesn't tell us whether we should make the atom bomb, does it? that would be the messy realm of ethics.

various statements can be made for self-torture: "it feels so good when i stop." i think that's the brief relief from the derisive scowlings of the inner hater (outer pain takes away from inner pain). willing participants in flagellation exist in various religious practices: sometimes for the altered state the suffering brings, sometimes it's seen as pleasing to god to welcome and appreciate the suffering.

(there's also the erotic aspect of pain, which i am not going to talk about here.)

in the environment of privilege and psychology, self-punishment is regarded more as egotistical dwelling on one's personal state. we are encouraged to think positively, and to take personal responsability for our emotional state (notice that's still quite ego-driven). all kinds of messiness can happen through following this advice too strictly; people end up feeling responsable for lousy things that have happened to them. (we cause our own rapes and our own natural disasters, have you noticed?) or people repress pain and trauma to "focus on the positive", but denying your arm is broken won't help it heal faster, it will just make you look delusional.

so it seems to me that we are at a loss for how to deal with suffering. we don't have a healthy relationship with it. dwell or deny; what is healing? how can we be whole through pain and trauma? through practicing patience and compassion toward ourselves. how can we acknowledge our own participation in our suffering (we do have will, after all) without trying to take all the blame? (this one's trickier.)

i was reading through old journal entries; i have almost completed the journal i began when i was falling in love with the queen. he was in thailand, i was dog-sitting. there is a portion of entries from early in the pregnancy; i hadn't told anyone outside of the gnome home, was having morning sickness, struggling with the queen to get on the same page and figure out what we were going to do. reading these old entries was illuminating; our love has evolved, through struggle and patience on both our parts. we have become a stronger unit. sometimes it is easier to focus on the things we still struggle with, and to look toward the future like it looms in front of us, ready to break our wills and destroy our relationship. (i have seen so many breakups occur in the first two years of a child's life. yes, i feel terrified.) so any reminder that we have come a long way is a good reminder.

i'm not going to pretend that everything is perfect for the queen and i. i am not going to buy into a false family image and try and paint it over us (though i admit i have been buying christmas ornaments with the dream of "our tree"; the only part of christmas i like is the tree part). moving toward the positive without shedding all the weight (that weight sucks now, but sometimes the things in that bag will help you later) is a delicate balance. i struggle with anything delicate. the fear of breaking it sometimes inspires me break it just to get it over with. another version of "it feels so good when i stop" translated as "it feels so good when the voices in my head that tell me i am going to fail finally stop".

i know there are aspects of our relationship that suck for one or the other or both of us; i know we have no easy solutions to these, and sometimes don't even agree on what the source or identity of the struggle is. sometimes it's a different struggle for each of us. i don't know what will happen to us; will aspects of our relationship turn septic? will healing together make us stronger? asking myself these questions feels draining, so i try and just do what i can now. and not try so hard to make it better that i miss enjoying it now, for what it is.

at the end of all this ruminating (dwelling?) i have no more answers; the way is not illuminated. but i do know a bit more about why i feel this way, which helps me when conversing with those voices. "i am doing the best i can, voices. what are you doing to help?"

blue, moon.

blogging from north carolina, with the ocean outside. the only thing separating me from the ocean is the balcony of the hotel room, a smallish sand dune and the beach. a few hours ago, the full moon was shining a gorgeous path on the ocean, and it reflected into our room.

oddly enough, i've felt a little depressed. warm weather is not a cure-all. mostly i think it's just the ongoing driving. since nova scotia, we've been driving every day, for most of the day. this means i haven't been walking, yet i haven't been still. we've been eating pretty well, and it's nice not to have to turn the heater on at night, but i miss being still. i miss being in the same place tomorrow as i was yesterday. i miss my cat (yes, i know this bit is getting repetitive. too bad).

today we booked into this lousy hotel room - the view and location are great, but the occasionally non-functioning elevator, closed-for-the-season pool and "wireless" internet (upon request, the lobby furnished us with an ethernet cable, which means we take turns using our computers to thirstily connect with the rest of the world and its resources) are crappy, and this place isn't much cheaper than the wonderful b&b we stayed at in newfoundland. the queen rented a bike and went off to some sand dunes. i wanted time to myself, but when i got it, i just moped. yesterday was tough physically; it felt like hosting a chicken-fighting contest in my belly. today has been rough emotionally; tears twice before two in the afternoon, and feeling depressed and overwhelmed until sundown. i turned to m&ms and crappy television to feel better. like most bandaids, it sort of worked. reading sort of worked. journalling sort of worked. a hot shower sort of worked. eventually, i was able to talk myself into a place of sort of working.

one of the troubles i have with feeling depressed is that i want to figure out "why now". it's never a good time. there are always great things happening i could be focusing on instead. i usually feel added guilt that i am not appreciating those elements of my life, whether they be wonderful surroundings, one-of-a-kind events, great people or beautiful weather. conversely, there are so many times and situations and combinations of things that could easily add up to depression, but i don't get depressed, and i'm curious why not.

i know that trying to find a reason is my effort to exert control over the depression. i know i want to solve it. i don't think this is actually helpful; it's a kind of dwelling that fools itself into looking like constructive action. it is not meaningful reflection i am doing here, but a ruthless perusal, looking for cracks, for faults. this is not healthy. it is a coping mechanism.

i think the best thing i can do for myself (see, i typed "to myself" and then realised that the doing "to myself" instead of "for myself" is the same example of unhealthy behaviour) is just keep on keeping on; mix up my acts with acts of health that i find difficult and weighty (having a shower, making a meal) with acts of nurturing (curling up with a book in the sun, having one glass of wine). so i did that. shower, laundry, m&ms, crappy tv. tomorrow i can say i did good, but also rewarded myself in decadent ways. i will have something to show for today, and i will not feel so emotionally poor.

little heartbeat

so, i've been hinting at stuff going on with the queen lately. and i've been tired, and cranky, and not as interested in well-thought-out debates or other displays of mental prowess. add to this some tidbits you didn't know: i've been vomiting regularly, and keeping a secret. can you guess yet?

oh come on. i can't wear most of my pants anymore. i'm having amazing mood swings, forgetting everything as soon as it leaves my hand, and i had to upsize my bra. still guessing? (probably not.) i glow.

that's right. knocked up! seventeen weeks along.

can't think of much to add to this entry. it's been a long time coming. i want to tell you about the state of dictatorship my diet has become (cravings aren't things we want and that taste extra good when we get them. they are possibly the only thing we can keep down, if we can get it into our mouths in the next four minutes). i want to tell you about how weird it is to have your body hijacked; not my boobs, not my sleep pattern, why the fuck do i have to pee again? i want to tell you about how i didn't get those feelings you think are natural, like liking my unborn baby. (we took to calling it the little beast.) i want to tell you it was neat hearing the heartbeat and that with the hearing of heartbeat, i could finally attach a measure of empathy to what i feel for this potential being.

i want to tell you how crazy it has been for the queen and i (surprise!) and how, with some serious rocky points, it has brought us closer to each other. and how happy i am he is the father of my not-quite-child. how amazingly sweet and helpful he is. he rubs my back and makes me food and warms me up when i come back from nighttime puking. how our various fights since the end of june have all had that context. how i didn't want to share this gain so early because i wouldn't want to share the loss.

i want to tell you about the midwives (lovely, awesome, and there's a cat at the 'office') and how we're birthing in a city two hours away because there aren't enough midwives to meet the demand here.

i want to tell you how crazy excited my mother is. i think she's hungrier for grandchildren than she let on. it's a bit scary.

i want to, but i am tired. so instead i am going to sleep.

tiny dribbles...

late august. aaaah.

i realized recently that i haven't been super happy. there's been stress, yes, and i am moving out of my house again. the job got really busy, and people keep quitting, so there is always someone new to train. the vibe at work is nice, but it was smokin busy for two weeks and we're all still recovering. the queen and i, well, i'll get to that. but anyway. stress. and i find that when i am feeling stressed, i tend to just try and plod on until it's over. but there tends to be stress that follows stress, maybe because a stressful situation leads to neglect for the ares of one's life that aren't on fire... which leads to those areas smoldering and then lighting up, then catching the curtains... sorry. anyway. stress, and my plodding through it. not a good thing.

so i am recognizing that i want to aim for a happier demeanour right away, instead of waiting until 'the right time' to feel better and relax. not put off feeling better because i am too tired.

today is my day off, and i have a list of things i want to do this month. i accomplished one task, took steps on two more, and got a fair amount of packing done. but i also did enjoyable things - ate gluten-free pizza with the wife, read most of the memoirs of two airline stewardesses from the sixties (light-hearted and fun, incredibly dated and heterosexist, and apparently kind of fake. perfect) and got some walking in.

the queen is down at the farm tonight (or off with a brother). we've been hanging out quite a lot lately, and i guess it's good to get some space in. being focused on all the stuff i want to get done is quite helpful. i've felt tired lately, and haven't been able to get as much done on my workdays. still, i've enjoyed time with the queen. he is such a lovely and loveable man. it's amazing how such grace and kindness can co-exist with a rough and tumble farmboy attitude (i think kittens are cute. he remembers drowning them).

i want to talk more about what's going on in my life and what the plans are for the winter, but i am ready to go to sleep. so i'll just set it up and leave you hanging.

general effusiveness

such busy, busy days. for me (translation: am not sitting at home in front of the computer).

quick story: pigeon got into bookstore's furnace ventilation system through panel left off furnace on roof.* pigeon ended up at the other end of the furnace system, pecking through ceiling grate on the first floor, shitting all over the carpet and worrying an animal-rights-inspired customer browsing. of course, we couldn't get the grate to open, only to bend. eventually, i called the queen, who came riding down in his white steed and accomplished the pigeon rescue by opening the ceiling panel next to the grate and propping the furnace vent itself open by cramming bad romantic suspense books between its bits. for his trouble, he got some free vinyl and the knowledge of one more pigeon out there, free (as a bird?).

now, it has been another day since i started this post. interruptions; queen and i went to pick up stuff we successfully bid on at the book release/punk? show/silent auction for humanitarian efforts in iraq we went to on friday night (after my two meetings; that does not count for a day off). the show was great, and the band we went to see excellent. the show on saturday night was also great; several bands at a local drinking hole. i enjoyed plainclothes and touchitandyouwillsayow.

on sunday, we jammed with our lovely friend, a little bird who lives on the edge of town. he comes in rarely, so it was a special treat for all the gnomes. the occasion also marked the first time the queen and i jammed since we fell in love. i felt sort of euphoric. another friend of the queen and little bird's came by, who likes to play a lot of metal and is amazing on classical guitar. he jammed with us a bit and then "had to thrash" so did so. i went out to the fire in the backyard. there may have been scotch.

the queen and i are moving into different kinds of learning with each other. hesitancy is coming up, viewpoints we differ in are being discovered. i feel very lucky to be with someone who is passionate and intelligent, who is patient and sometimes makes mistakes. who makes me breakfast in bed and then teases me mercilessly about the silly things i am sensitive about, including my inability to tell when i'm being teased (which has led me to plaintively question "is this banter?" whenever he says something i hope isn't true). who loves me and receives my love. i just end up feeling cheesy when i try and talk about it. spout spout. effuse effuse.

i have been invited to continue living with the lovely woman i am housesitting for. this means she gets a nickname. i have known her for years, she has a lovely black cat and this old beautiful home. she works on poverty issues (among others) and strives for a balanced and emotionally authentic life. she plays the fiddle, drinks wine around the fire and has a deceptively innocent face. i will call her the good witch.

emotion: amazingly lucky to live three houses up from the queen and the wife. and to know all the people in between. brewing contentment.

yesterday evening around the fire, the queen and i were conversing about different kinds of scotch and their growing and distillation processes. little bird laughed (i love it when shy people laugh) and said he could see us discussing important things together when we are both ninety.

people keep saying these things. it reminds me to take it one day at a time, even as i want to skydive a message across the sky proclaiming eternal wonder at this amazing connection.

damn, that's some sap - is it maple?

last night, i felt restless. after watching a wonderful and depressing canadian movie with lovely company, i went walking.

as i walked, time passed. i walked, i walked and walked. i thought about forgiveness, and the loss that love doesn't erase. i thought briefly about whatever end, and then about all the stuff i want to do in the meantime. about how, when i erase the false reasons for doing, i end up with the same idea of free will and some energy to burn. the candle is already lit - what will i shed some light on?

sitting, loving, being cheesy. dah duh DUH, these are some epic times. whoa, show that sappy canadian spirit (um, no, i don't mean the olympics) here and here (it was really hard to find a not-terrible video for that song. oh youtube, so sad) and, in a complete about-face, here (that's right, i'm unpredictable)!

and now, the bearded woman!

grace. more's the way.

where there's love, there's no question, says the yogi (tea label). where there is question, there is no love.

tools of courage can be quiet, they can be quaint, they can even be careful. the courage means they keep on coming.

vulnerability, fear, pain; all the dubious blessings of life. courage can change none of these. it doesn't even withstand them; a courageous person goes through all of those.

what's the point of courage, then? i mean, it doesn't fix, solve, change anything that comes my way. i suppose it does something wise like change the way i view things. sigh. great. bring it on. more of the same, then more courage, then more of the same.

dinner, in lieu of gaol time

perspective frames this entry. i've been working on making it a less stressful holiday season, and i think it worked. i mean, i cried quietly for the hour it took to get to the family's, but that was more fear and memory working. also, that "helpful" voice in my head telling me how terribly everything will go. it will be worse than your childhood! this voice assured me. but it wasn't.

it's surprising how much power over the stress actually is in my hands. and i listened to that annoying voice and then shared with it another example of how things could go: a mellow example. and i got the fearful voice to admit that neither of those things were happening at the time; reminded it of the peaceful car i was in, with friends of the family whose company i enjoy.

we arrived. i hadn't brought the usual potluck offering; i apologized. my mom just hugged me and the day went on. i guess the traumas that i'm working through from my past are actually that - the past. that's reassuring. maybe i'll remember it when the next trauma comes along: someday, all this will be past.

a friend of mine shared for a moment earlier today how difficult of a time of year it can be for people. this is a depressing time of year, i think he said. i wanted to disagree, but i think he's right. no one warns us that the biggest events are also the biggest pits of danger (or maybe that's what they were saying when i was ignoring them). graduating? welcome to confusion about self-worth! having a kid? test your relationship AND who your friends are, all at the same time! whoo!

i think we don't expect the frequency with which our needs change, and how much stronger our needs are at these epic type of "positive" events. we think they're easy sailing or big celebrations. but we're always losing something, every time we gain or are gifted. the reverse is also true, cloaked in a terrible truism about god trespassing, then breaking in.

odd how life can be extreme (loss, gain, joy, grief) at the same time it is balanced (loss with gain, joy with grief). i think these simultaneously existing opposing truths are preparing me for physics.

Buffet of Metaphors at Vitamin B's! Free Drinks!

wondering what lifts me, what hit me,
what it means, what's drifting
away
or floating toward
me, grinning and sinning,
ripe to be born


poetry, poetry; that part of my mindbody that opts in and out of linear timelines, scoffing gently at the 'not allowed' signs of social context.

what an interesting few days! says this mindbody:
breakup, epic gnome visit (oh the laughter. oh the tears. oh the size of the bottle), loss of wallet (hopefully left on a bus and returned to lost&found, but probably lying in a school field, buried in a lot of snow), visit with sincerely pregnant friend (Seeking still has an innie, but it's more like a tight wink) and a saturday morning bookstore shift.

yeah, i tried to slide the breakup in there, like it was 'just another crazy day'. but it wasn't crazy.

thoughts of vulnerability float, unhinged to any relationship, on the river of mindbody. previous breakups have had an aspect of 'broken', but this, this sparks a different light. this just didn't fit me right now. notwithstanding the incredible comfort i feel when he touches me, notwithstanding the volumes of common language we share or the deep chimes in my heart that sing for this man. i feel sad for letting something go that is so beautiful. but if the dress doesn't fit, the quality of it is irrelevant.

how it doesn't fit, i think: i want to travel, emotionally. i want to explore the vistas of personality, the garden of people, the variety of sentience. this tends to result in long absences, emotionally, from 'home'. the Home within me (slowly being inhabited more and more, as i see how easily it travels) is a different matter, but the external emotional home, the people and relationships i keep... it's asking a lot from a partner; that relationship is heavy in time and energy. to be emotionally gone, for weeks at a time... it's not how most people work, and it's not how Special Friend works. and it's not something i see changing about myself anytime soon.

that said, i know i use emotional roadtrips to 'get out of homework free'. it's important that i maintain intimacy and vulnerability in my life, that i'm not just present for the good times, that my relationships are based in both joy and suffering; in the sharing of what is, and what isn't.

so i speak the mantra, and turn the page.

transient wow of now

spent some time on the internet before i got here, now feeling a bit drained from the unusual screen glow. still, it was lovely to update the self on favourite comics and blogs. blogging intermittently leaves me trying to place activities in time, wondering when i started or finished that last book. what was i reading last time? have i raved or ranted about this one yet?

tried to make plans with several of my favourite people today; all plans were lost to the sea of indecision and other distracting states. eventually i walked A and B and made it over to the gnomic center to visit my kitty and pay for previous bills and cat visitation rights. of course, while i was there, other people dropped by. witty conversation and wine wound their ways around the room.

old habit; regarding the phone balefully whenever it buzzes, preferably from far away; down the hall. some days it just interrupts! life is more than what's playing on reality channels. working on the state of being where nothing ever happens again; every bus ride is unique, every work day unpredictable. remember when - no, don't bother. let's try this instead:

absurdity and its freedoms

coming out of a depression is a wobbly affair. fresh legs are uncertain, new skin untested, the ways of the world feel unfamiliar. i try and take it easy; don't stay late at work, keep a steady pace, drink tea. build towers out of the play-blocks in our living room.

pet the cat. eat salad. breathe.

occasionally, i feel pulled to one side or the other (i'm worthless, there's nothing here for me. no, i'm priceless! i should be a star! and i'm not, oh, it must be my fault. *and so on*) of the equilibrium. i've noticed another interesting thing about the state of depression: its insistence on absolutes. that's a big part of how it gets me, i think. not that things suck, but that this is exactly how they sucked last time, and they'll keep on sucking, and there's nothing i can do about it. cue doom music, except don't bother, because the awful silence following such a 'realization' is worse.

a big part of feeling better is remembering that "this too, will pass."

it's kind of amusing that that expression seems to bring happy people down. oh well. the same folks probably don't understand why i find existentialism so refreshing.

despair, angst and a meaningless world: it's all we have. sweet relief pours through me (really? no tests? just this? wow).

note: this all ties in with self-forgiveness. it's okay that i'm not a star, i'm still awesome in my own tiny ways, and besides, people are mean sometimes, it's alright that i don't want to parade myself in front of them. reasonable, even. yes, so i am forgiven. time for my current favourite tea.

do it. dooooo it. the forgiveness, i mean. not the tea. (unless you like it. i'm not usually a fan of fruity tea, but this one somehow doesn't taste gross.)

try and get past the italics, to the italics at the end

what is it about routine that immediately incenses me? i look at the laundry ready to put away, the in-box that's never been empty, the innocent plants that need watering, and i feel angry. angry at plants? they don't even complain.

it's the needing. in the last year, it's been a youth program that didn't have enough emotional support (guess who noticed?), organizing and curating a first-ever youth art show for a victim/crime awareness project, and helping a small business first moving into having employees and running their business according to government rules, which meant a lot of scary first steps and risks to take. eventually the scariness mellowed out, at which point i becamse bored and gave my notice. so there's something to be said about what i seek. let's come back to that.

i took this really easy job for the summer so that i could be responsibility-free (the board doesn't meet in the summer, which seemed promising as well), only to become a key-holder within three weeks. currently, my boss is on vacation and i'm 'running the place'. it's not a high-tech global centre of wealth or anything, but the pattern is uncanny. i attract positions of responsibility. and now and again (and again and again), they need things from me.

my spoils: coming back to my own attractions, i admit that i get off on feeling needed. it was the role i played in the family drama, after i outgrew the baby post. i problem-solve, collect emotional outpourings, smooth out ruffled feelings, head off imminent conflict and generally put people at ease (when i'm comfortable in my own zone, of course).

and when it's stimulating as opposed to grating, i find value in this. or do i?

maybe it's just feeling valued that i value (whew). well, it's helping me meet a need, seems harmless. unless i'm using others to build my self-esteem from the outside instead of from my own experiences. hmm. is there another way i'd like to meet that need (belonging/social security) that seems more centred in myself?

what else do i do that i think is needed by society as a whole?

...

also, and here's an interesting point. is it in my best interest and path to undertake every responsibility that i see or that is offered to me? i pretty rarely say no, although i do turn down projects. occasionally.

other than meeting a need for feeling valued by others, do i learn anything from playing this role?

maybe it isn't even a matter of changing how i meet the need. maybe it's a matter of letting myself realize how much i am already valued. i have such a fear of being left out - still. after all these years and all these social accomplishments. can i nourish the plant of self-confidence in my own garden, instead of buying it from the appreciation of others? can i barf after that terrible analogy? ewww. the power of one's own blog: ruthlessly publishing phrases better burned.

the prize isn't about winning

listening to roots manuva. "nobody's dancing the way they used to dance," he sings. it reminds me of dj shadow's proclamation about why hip hop sucked in the '90s: "it's the MONEY!"

watching community evolve, reach a critical point. where the strings that connect us are so plentiful that they eclipse the individuals. i can't see you past all of our common points of contact. and the events we gather together at have become so complex, spinning forth so many satellite desires (let's have a this-pod! a that-pod! a pod for when i get up in the middle of the night and have to pee and don't want to go back to bed), and the work required to do them is inversely proportional to the number of people who aren't burnt out and are willing and able to build, lead, follow, work together.

talking with an old friend, how we've seen this evolution three times now over the last six years in the group we gather with. however it manifests this time, i am potentially interested in seeing if anything sustainable for a longer-term community has emerged through all these reinventions.

two things to note: one, that people are seriously pro-creating, so anything we want to build longer-term would stand a much better chance if it was amenable to small children. shoot, i forgot what the second thing was. probably about how we need to remember things so we don't have to reinvent the wheel. oh yeah! it was that we have been successful: we have helped nurture the community skills of so many. i've watched people's mental health stabilize because they feel supported enough to make that journey back through the darkest parts of themselves. i've watched couples break up and both people stay involved and feel welcome in the community (maybe not each individual moment, but in the long haul). i've watched people approach the precipice of drug addiction and move back, shaken, into the arms of people they love. i've seen some grasp an awareness of their skills, bring them to the larger group and grow in strength and confidence.

we aren't home-free in the land of ease, but then, we don't want that. what we do want is more difficult to predict. i would rather let the group speak for itself in a chorus of disagreement and challenge, and see what happens.

insert cheesy sci-fi novel name here

feeling the crash. 

knew i would, after letting go of so much. tried to gear down nearing arrival so as to soften the landing, but i'm still new at being gentle with myself. so many of the old habits are still kicking around, 'willing to help'. and now i'm in the grey and blurry here: not sure what i'm drawn to because i'm so focused on resistance. waters of the hopeful future muddied with one moment of doubt. a or b? ohshitohshitohshitAorB??

the ennui of maintenance combined with the weight of all previous efforts (which don't exist anywhere other than my list of failed attempts) is a heavy blanket to the slim flame of 'for fuck's sake, i'm smarter than this, i feel loved and i can build my way to the horizon i want to see'. 

new direction falters. but i'm already far enough away from the old shore and still have the new mantra tucked into my head. plus i'm stubborn. that works both ways, oh gaoler.  

the new moon's muted call. i speculate at the window of my tiny inflatable life raft, mixing metaphors in my wake. 

untitled

some self-exploration struck me last night: started reading this great gaia book i received from a mystery book-sharer, finally paid attention to the meyers-briggs personality test and found this crazy site devoted to my type (the empathic one. gee, who'da thunk it?) and finally delved into process-oriented psychology, coined by these fine folks.

they're really lovely. who else puts sesame street videos (scroll down) on their site to help explain things?

the website, on the other hand, is a bit goofy. but goofy is handy too. apparently, we INFJs take ourselves too seriously.

in the light of day, i note how dark and deep my perspective can become. and i am grateful to have persevered at self-development enough to be around some wonderfully smart people i know.

grace and machinery

i definitely fell off my detox wagon last week and it took almost an entire week to regain the feeling of honest equilibrium; the sensation of living in my body, not a storm.

sake and junk food aren't what i want. and that's the nice thing, is that i am following my own desires, if not all of them. i actually want to put fresh vegetables and fruit in my body. i miss the ability to engage in the snack world, but then i have some dark chocolate and all feels well again.

i know i am still coddling myself a bit; not making myself do what i don't want to do. but i remind myself that my standards are inordinately high; i am organizing an art show, sitting on a board of directors (and being active on it), keeping a job and detoxing. so what if i sit around in the evenings and watch the l word? so what if i've been slacking on reading?

then i remember that many of my activities are still in lieu of what i would actually be doing if i felt free enough to move toward those things. i hold a moment of grief for how long i have kept myself in chains. i reaffirm each freeing moment. and i get up and do something incredibly kind for myself. a bath, some tea, a deep belly laugh.

and i know that i am kind enough to trust myself.

tools of the trade

i am having a good day, where the songs in my head are robust and frolicky. walked across the high level bridge today, and the sun was blinding. shared dinner with the gnomes; a household affair plus a friend from next door. continuing to love the way i relate with my roommates. i finally understand how effortlessness works. we're very close. i think two very key parts are that we are all relatively healthy, and willing to do what is required.

found a great set of shields to image, on the occasions where the sheer number of people or feelings i pick up are not very fun. i am learning these empath ways starting to actually take care of myself (which is currently defined as more than the least one can get away with, much to my chagrin). i was resistant and slapdash about self-care not because i was lazy, or even out of low self-esteem (though it is there, it's always present). i neglected myself because i wasn't in crisis, and other people were, so i had best tend to them. or else, i had to be in crisis.

it has taken a while, but i think i can be happy in a world where not everyone is happy. though even typing the phrase brings on an ill feeling in my gut. is it revulsion over the pain or shame for not being completely selfless? does it matter? i've probably already wandered away from the point. anyway. even basic logic comes around eventually: how would my unhappiness help? i don't need to be unhappy in order to motivate myself to help others. rather the reverse.

not to mention (and this one is tougher to swallow for my desperately helpful self) that it's possibly not really necessarily for me to make them happy or even help them be happy. seriously. that road to hell saying ain't just a saying. codependency, anyone? no thanks!

so i sit with my own happiness and enjoy it while it's here. butterflies tend to be fleeting.