I am outside at Dogwood, its hot and probably too sunny, but also too loud to think inside.
I woke up late after a difficult night of sleep, between the tacobell I ate at 10:30, the mosquito and my general feeling of being awake even when I was asleep, it just kept seeming like I was never gonna be fully out. Then this morning, when I was meaning to wake up at 8, suddenly it was 9:30, suddenly 11. I missed church. It was the Harriet bandshell one… that I hadn’t really wanted to go to until the shooting in south Minneapolis- when suddenly it seemed important to have community, to be part of something.
So then it was 11:30 and I was getting out of bed feeling somewhat groggy, and my apartment seemed a mess and nothing was getting done.
So I spent till 3ish, doing laundry, prepping salad ingrdients putting up the hammock on the deck, decorating a touch, putting things in their right place, paying bills… getting my life in order as it were.
Then by 3 pm I started to feel like I could move forward with the week… what was left to do? Write 3 poems for the weekend I’d basically lost steam. Work on the website. Do some paperwork. All doable, and some needn’t be at home. So I trecked out, on this sunny day… and now I am here and sipping an americano, and not sure what to say.
All the tarot readings and the song I’ve head in my head all day speak of choices. Two directions, which will you choose? I am not ever sure what my options are, except that there is a safe option and challenging one that promises more success ultimately.
“two points for honesty, it must make you sad to know that nobody cares at all…”
So what do I care about? And what choice do I really have?
I was reading “everything is tuberculosis” and he described a transman doctor in the early 1900s, who was kicked out of town after town, but introduced xrays, and I wondered how much good this person did by spreading this knowledge, despite the circumstances. Its not that we do the thing we set out to do initially, but how we maintain and move forward despite the circumstances.
This weekend, I know I accomplished all my chores, but I don’t feel very accomplished. I am wrestling with how do I slow down again? Or how to I affect the changes I am looking to make? And I am not sure about either of those.
I seem to have paths before me, but none of them seem obvious, and the partnership I’ve been promised doesn’t seem apparent. Submission, acceptance, letting go… even these flowing states, I am not sure what I am supposed to be letting go?
The business is beginning and its going well so far. I need more clients but I am not in a dire situation as long as insurance eventually kicks in. I have a few things I need to clarify and work through… but my hope that by October everything is heading in the right direction feels right. Got a consult group for once a month. Setting up some meet and greets at the office. Not really using the pool or the gym much at the apartment but its ok.
So what are the next steps? I keep coming back to things like -spiritual direction, the book, workshops and teaching, taking a class, getting trained… maybe planning a trip. All things I’ve done, all things that would be good, but none of them is like clearly THE path.
This whole school shooting the other day briefly made me wonder about doing something political re: gun violence. But its funny, I can’t imagine doing the therapy work there, because I am too pissed myself. It’s been hard even when my clients are struggling with it. Yes, its good for passion, but not great for thoughtful ways of proceeding.
Yesterday went to Crosby farm with Aryn and talked for basically 4 hours, walked in the woods for part of that. She is beginning the school year and rolling with all the stupid decisions the district has made… trying to be creative, trying to push back where she can. Its good work. It seems fun, but also I am sort of glad to be out of that system.
The previous few days talked with Schultz a lot -during bedtime which is odd. About guns and our lives, and our history of not being chaperoned when we were young for better and worse. It was really lovely to connect. I love her.
I think maybe that’s the difficult thing. I don’t know where to put my love, other than work. I am trying to do the self care self love thing, and its hard and feels especially hard when I am stressed and uncertain. Haven’t eaten the best lately (see taco bell, donuts, cookies, candy, chocolate)… but also lots of salads and fruit. Not all bad I guess. I say this while I am considering getting baklava on the way home.
I went to the local Costco, and a new cub. Exploring a bit. Saw the new Ford plant area which is weird and suburb like, a development neighborhood… feels a little like it will be gated. Maybe would have been where grandma went to live.
I like the apartment and the office, and the business and not taking things too seriously. I could see myself being content, but I want somewhere to put my passion and my love.
I want it to feel meaningful and spiritual… and despite the spiritual direction thing seeming like a way of doing that, it also feels a little like I am just doing it to feed my spirit and not really for anything specific. A place where someone else can give me direction, and guide, rather than me making all the decision.
What poems am I gonna write?
It’s a good challenge, but its starting to feel unhelpful and more guilting. When I have no thoughts, no muse, or Im scared of it not being what I want. Whats the point?
Maybe that’s my practice of submitting…
Opening opening opening…
This desire to say yes, but not know what to say yes to.
****
I walked along the road to Fresh Thyme, and back eating cantaloup with a baguette. I felt like I was traveling, free and wild, and nothing but my own agenda. The sky was blue. The air was clean. It was relatively quiet despite the cars and the greenline... I wonder why even in the midst of everything feeling ok, I can't quite settle. I can appreciate, but I am still wondering ...
Its funny because how many of those times in europe or south america, was I wandering around with nothing, appreciative, but bogged down by deep worry, not afraid. Just in my head. Spiraling, talking to myself, talking to others in my head... I think of my trips as these beautiful periods of getting away, but allthewhile I am an antsy motherfucker. I've got a pint of orange juice and a baguette, and I am roaming the streets looking free like a gazelle on the plains... and just as anxiously.
What next, what next, what next... I wonder if I will ever get past that. I'll be on my deathbed wondering what next... and hopefully grateful and curious, but still getting ahead of myself. Everyone around me hoping to have me present... never knew how.
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