Fjords

That autocorrected title...

I woke up at five and haven't been able to sleep.  Do you remember this?  The not quite excitement not quite anxiety...

I'm feeling overwhelmed with the idea that I can't please everyone, and also that I am never satisfied.   It used to mean adding more productive things to my plate. These last years, it's meant subtracting them.  But  I can't find my car keys, and my room is too small to contain the ever growing amount of stuff. And I need more in order to be a human on this planet.  And I'm caught again in the web of my actions being unethical - spending money I don't have on things I shouldn't have.  

I think I am scared that I won't like the social work gigs.   That I won't have any free time to be human, cuz I'll be my role again. 

And people keep asking about my haircut. Significant. 

Today

I went to an interview at an agency where they do refugee resettlement. It was nice, but I also realized that basic needs stuff/basic getting started doesn't really appeal to me. I could definitely do the job, would probably be helpful to learn the skills. Not sure what kind of impression I made, I realized I was being kind of quiet, but also giving very thoughtful and somewhat practical answers. I was really impressed with the questions they'd come up with. It was a good interview on her part.

I've been listening to Hamilton and loving it. The musical really transports you to the  world they created, though it's not quite late 1700s, and it's also not today.  Still it's universal. You cry and laugh and want the best for them. 

I lost my car keys again.  I got a tax bill. I might have screwed up with applying for state health insurance. It's hard to navigate things and it feels like my fault for not knowing. 

I think it's interesting how some people are captivating. There are a bunch of beautiful women that I see while at work, and I know nothing about them, but I am enchanted. I stare a lot, and try not to. But often when I am staring I am trying to figure out what it is about their face that is so mesmerizing. Often times I pick apart their features and in my head it doesn't add up to "the most beautiful" sometimes I even have this moment of realizing they aren't even that attractive - like someone else might be considered more cute or pretty, but nonetheless there is something that makes it hard to turn away from some people. Some glow, or curve, or color...  I spend a lot of time thinking about one. And then the next comes along and then I consider the next until the one after that... It's funny how attraction snares you. 

Looking at different paths forward, applying for and interviewing with social work agencies and community centers. I have identified two main themes: 

a) immigrants/broad community services

And

b) men's issues 

Not sure which path to pursue more readily. I think it is likely that I would move closer to whatever agency I am working with this summer. 

Been getting lots of headache lately. A little concerning, makes me feel less inclined to do things. 

I saw a post about how baby boomers were gonna retire from teaching positions... The old repeated forecast and yet before they went they slashed and burned the fields behind them, making it an impossible profession... Boomers man...

Oh    Hey there. Been awhile.

Just ran into a random dude, named K. It's interesting how easy it is to to meet people when they are traveling but totally impossible when they live here. We had lunch together and I took him to the airport. It was nice. Lots of real talk. 

Maybe I should move to Georgia. 

Dream of maybes and aging?

I approached the crowd of people cautiously, I didn't understand the rules of the game, but i was interested. It seemed to involved throwing fruit at each other. I didn't want to get hit accidentally. 

I swarmed about between the lines of people casually tossing their apples and plums from hand to hand as they waited. Then something shifted, and I realized it was too late, the game was over. 

Much of the crowd dispersed and I looked for a friendly face.

I saw a girl I recognized but couldn't remember her name or anything. A life time ago she might have been a crush, but at this point she was a shared remembrance, but I knew no one else so I plopped myself down and pretended like we'd known each other our whole lives. I was in an extroverted kind of mood, I felt energized by the crowd. I started chatting with her, she seemed to be charmed by it, but I looked down at my hands and realized they were gross looking. Old dry cracked from washing too many dishes. 

A guy came up, looking for help. 

Laurel appeared and I figured I should probably hang with her instead of the strange one. The guy said something about popcorn and I realized they were setting up for a movie in the park -kin of thing. I went with him to be helpful and figures out how to get the popcorn going. Then I rummaged through someone's bathroom for lotion, but only found hair gel. I went into her room and saw an abundance of colorful stuff, all hair and makeup and accessories. Like tons of it. But no lotion. 

When I walked back I ran into Kt, she suggested I go with her so I did. She led me to a room where some people from high school were, Ashley and hallow and Jess. They were sharing candy and other things. I contributed and they made me feel very welcome. Then things started escalating, sexual tension turned into flirting and then coupling up. 

She flung herself into my lap, upside down, it was an awkward angle where all I saw was her stomach, but I kissed it anyway. 

Her skin began to loosen, small tufts of it like tabs pulling off. And I was disgusted but I didn't want her to know.  

4:19 am

Today I woke up late, walked to bad waitress, then to spyhouse. Reread some Rumi. Re-read some only notes, stories, dreams, poems and blog posts. Listened to some girls have an annoying conversation. Wondered if maybe I shouldn't try - or rather put weight on trying to make my life or this world something better... Like maybe it's ok, and I just need to learn to live. Added to some chapters in the book. Ate dinner. Returned to spyhouse and read some more Rumi. Walked home and listened to some music, wrote some more, watched the gop debate. Fell asleep. Woke up, considered the world, my life, my writing. The perpetual anxiety of trying to make something of it all.  Want to sleep, but head keeps swirling, whirling dervishing away. 

How math ruins plans (two weeks ago)

The other day my dad started talking about a business venture, he was trying to say that it wasn't a good idea, but when he originally mentioned it he said it like it was positive -- so I tried to crunch the numbers with him and it ended up seeming like a raw deal. We discussed some of the factors that come into play, such as opportunity costs, tax breaks and tax disensentives. 

It's 4:30 AM and I am having a hard time justifying the idea of grad school. It's the upfront cost that bothers me. $42,000 for two years tuition, but also an expectation that I won't be able to work full time (and possible even part time during that two years). 

The social work jobs pay roughly equal to teaching jobs without the steps that the unions guarantee. So... Back to non-profit work in which i take payouts while the admin gets bonuses. 

Let's say the whole two years actually costs me 70,000. It's not unreasonable I've heard lots of people have that kind of debt. 

So I know in my last job I was able to save about 5,000 a year... So that's 14 years plus interest. Assume (and I sure do hope that this the case) that I have a family during this time - and it becomes double that. This is 14-25 years of paying  off monthly loans while working jobs that are incredibly difficult. This is 14-25 years without traveling, major purchases etc. 

14-25 years of the stress of obligation. 

I am lucky enough to have some money on the side that might clear this up, but the risk is that I use the money and never earn it back, basically making my kids poorer, making them have to take on the college debt etc.

The positives of the degree:

New area of opportunity/different jobs

Credentials to add to my experience

New area of study/deepening knowledge

Time with likeminded people

Investment in myself as a community member/caregiver

License to practice private counseling (eventually)

Both my parents turn 60 this year. One is struggling financially more than the other despite the fact they have the same degree(also the degree I'd be getting). A lot of the difference comes from family background not choices. 

My mother has turned her degree into a private business, she is very successful. She's been working in the field for decades and didn't start the private practice until halfway, and didn't invest in it fully until less than 10 years ago. 

I assume a lot of her success has been through building the contacts and earning a solid reputation in the field - which takes time. 

I guess what I am wondering is, is this actually a good investment. Or would my time, money and energy be better spent elsewhere? 

And how do I know? 

Decisions Decisions

Been reading the Bhagavad Gita. The other day I am sure it saved me from being mean to a coworker. Today...

Its the story of a man (Arjuna)  in a moment of great doubt concerning a decision. He asks his friend Krishna, who is also God, what he should do.  Krishna says he should act (wisely). Arjuna isn't satisfied, he wants to know how and why, he questions the path, and how he should know which is the right path. He asks about far more than the question at hand, he wants the answers to the Universe.  Krishna continues to indulge Arjuna, answering each question.

Arjuna eventually begins to question God, he attempts to do so respectfully, but he wants to know why he should trust the answers he is being given. Arjuna says "Let me see you" and Krishna allows him to see what no man has ever seen.  Arjuna describes it simultaneously as terrifying and joyous "A thousand suns exploding in the sky" he says he sees his enemies and loved ones alike being gnashed in Krishna's teeth and Krishna concurs that all things begin and end according to him, so their deaths and rebirths are already swirling in his thousands of mouths. Arjuna begs forgiveness for questioning his fate, his choices, his path and most of all Krishna, but Krishna reminds him that is why he is there... he comes to meet the faithful, to help them come to him.

A few days ago I turned 32, the culmination of decisions both active and passive.

I applied to Grad School officially the night before, with the hope that it might shed some light on my purpose.

Today

My Step Brother asked if I wanted to look for a place to live with him and Lacey told me she was engaged.

Life continues to swirl in and out of God's mouth, and I continue to question the path... the right path, the myriad paths in each stranger's eyes.  I am comforted by my small world, and simultaneously concerned that I am falling further and further into a darkness, an isolation, a place I might not ever return from.

I choose little things, like grad schools, and church services, as attempts to keep me anchored in the larger world, but I don't really want to commit to either.  I also want to ignore emails, texts, voice-mails, conversations... I want to sit alone in my room with my bloated stomach, nauseous from candy while I lose myself in mindless entertainment. I want to wake or not wake, and shuffle to a coffee shop and tapper out a story, a shifting, ever-ongoing path for make believe characters.

My mind is reluctant to clutch at shared meaning, my hands even more so for clothed shoulders.

I find a bit of voyeuristic pleasure in the faces that pass before me, but the more I study them, the more convinced I become that I don't share enough in common, that the pleasure would fade, and witness it fade as I consider it. In the moment I wonder if the path subtly chose me, or if I subtly chose the path.

Do I feel detached because that is where I am supposed to be? Witnessing myself, reassessing, considering, writing... Or do I feel detached because I chose these things over serving others?

and which is the path, and how do I know which is right, and how do I know I should trust that answer?

Most people have been reassuring me, but I often get the impression they are actually reassuring themselves. "Mike, you aren't really gone, because I don't want you to be."

Sometimes I believe them. Most of the time I don't.
Most of the time I am pretty comfortable with where I am at, I just dislike that I am. 

Generational Cycles

I was thinking about the conversation I had with Gabi a few days ago. About the disillusionment we both felt with the system and how perhaps its not so different than the generations of the past. That perhaps as a young educated 20 something with not a lot of responsibilities - a person feels idealistic and empowered and ready to take on a big mean world, and make it better... but by their 30s and 40s they've realized just how big and unwilling to change the world truly is, how heavy their responsibilities will be. That their individual impact wont be as big as they hoped. That their defeats, their mistakes, their failures have a much bigger impact on their bodies and minds and relationships the older they get.  
You'd think we become better at dealing, but perhaps like our brains narrowing down the scope of what we are capable of learning easily, our person, our perception of what is possible also narrows into the path of least resistance. We choose comfort and security because they are the natural choice for those who have exhausted themselves... but perhaps it is also naive to think our 20s will be the only time we have the energy to make change. 

Maybe we can be radicals in our 50s when we've amassed some security to fall back on?

Just don't let your pessimism today keep you from being an optimist tomorrow. I've met some badass hopeful people in their 70s.

First post of the year

Sorry it may seem depressing.

When I returned home about 6 months ago I had a sense of optimism despite the fact that I knew I would be choosing a fairly limited sort of life.

I still want that life, or part of me does. I dream of a quiet, safe, clean home. I want friends who I trust and who relate or inspire me. I want time to practice my hobbies, to get lost in them, to watch Netflix or whatever. I want a partner. And financial security and all these white picket fence dreams... 

But when asked what I lost last year, my answer was my sense of purpose. And though I want those other things, I'm wondering if I've given up far too much by not pursuing purpose rather than self protection.

I realized this morning that I'm not just cynical, I'm angry. I am angry that there are a world of problems out there with simple solutions that we don't choose. That there are ways to make life better for other people, and we collectively choose not to. That we hide our heads in the sand when facing environmental catastrophe. That we make it easier for people to self protect, miserable and lonely and selfishly, rather than reward those who choose to make life better. 

I spent 6 years trying to make life better and burnt out. Despite being surrounded by lovely people who cared deeply about me, it wasn't enough. The burden was too much and I felt it slipping further each day and lost my confidence in both myself and the system to hold it up again. And I'm not just dissatisfied with that, I'm hurt by it, and I'm angry about it.

I'm angry at our society which chooses death over life. Chooses the easy choices which devastate, over the difficult one which could heal us. I'm angry at individuals who live the way I'm choosing to right now, like there isn't something better, like caring is too hard. I'm angry at myself for wanting it all, and for needing security, for needing healing, for needing the things the system chooses not to share... And I'm angry at God, or the universe or whatever... Not because it makes us selfish, but because it makes us care and doesn't provide the solutions. The breakthroughs.  Gives us huge hearts and not enough string to stitch them back together after each and every moment of heartbreak. 

It would be ok if we were all poison, if the human race was the virus that needed to be wiped out, if we were evil monsters, sociopaths who didn't care about anyone but ourselves... But we're not. 

We're beautiful, loving, creative and compassionate... And so deeply wounded, so deeply convinced the world is sorrow and pain, and not worth the effort. 

My response was to write. I know I need to write... I want to write. 

But I also want purpose.  I want a heart that reaches instead of always hiding. I want reassurance that it matters. 

I've lost it, and I'm waiting, not patiently for it to come back. 

3 am thoughts

You could become a street performer, a volunteer, a clown without borders, a teacher, a janitor, a tutor for English learners, a protester, a writer, a blogger or vlogger an actor, a radio dj or podcaster.

You could stop fighting your body and start considering its strengths, train it, grow with it, breathe and yoga pose with it. 

You could march in the struggle, and just be a member. One of a million that mattered because together they made a million instead of one. Lost in a sea of humanity instead of always trying to stand apart.

Where your gifts meet the needs, but what are all of your gifts? And which needs are you open to?

The world is yours.

I was talking to my boss today about her other job, the business she wants to start, and all the road blocks she has run into.

Who do we want to work with, where, why, how will we make it work, who do we need to deal with in order to do it...

When I was working at my old school there were a bunch of bullshit things we had to do, but in a lot of ways we were encouraged to either treat them that way, or to find ways to not do them(figure out a better way). This meant that you could focus on and enjoy the very challenging but meaningful work instead of despairing over the bs.

In my life, things have usually just worked out. Big decisions were anxiety producing, but eventually lead to breakthroughs, opportunities would be presented at the right moments etc. a lot of this had nothing to do with me, except maybe I was prepared to say yes, or maybe I had been working on the skills to follow through. But the opportunities were usually just gifts. 

I feel stuck right now. It's ok, I can learn to accept the low level input:output, I am enjoying the time off, playing computer games and writing...

But I feel very disconnected from passion, from reaching out, from the desire to act and to open my arms to people... And I hate that. 

I hate that I don't know what to do with my lack of openness. I can't pry and push, I don't want to.  

I want to find something that seems hopeful and jump, but I don't see any green light opportunities... And it makes me very aware that much of the world operates this way daily, that life feels devoid of meaning and oppressive this way for many, that opportunities aren't given to most, that doors are shut and it's hard to pry them open when you'll just have to deal with a new set of locked doors on the other side.

I am angry that our world traps us, instead of freeing us. It would be so easy to make life better, and we have decided hardship is somehow the state of the world and reinforced it by choosing locks and fear. 

There is a certain comfort in walking, in walking in freezing rain, in feeling the wind pass through your clothes, in the dampness on your head, in the blurryness of wet glasses that block the view, in drops of ice that melt down your face, a certain invigoration, a certain adventurousness, a certain calling of old, a handful of memories, a handful of desires that claim you're not having a good time, a certain set of lies that make the world seem magical, blissful, comforting, a certain amount of truth. 

Dreams

A person long absent, is absent and getting more absent in my dreams, while I try to make excuses for why I'm staying on her couch for the first time in years.  And we are all worried, even the landlord who questions is wondering where she is going. 

Discernment

At work tonight I was chatting with a couple coworkers. We talked about ourselves and other people we were associated with.  I was struck by the way my coworker seemed so similar to the way I've perceived myself in the past, it was a strange haunting, a curiosity and confidence about people, a shared nature (that I often feel detached from now), but though I was envious of the desire to get to know people, I was also struck by the shallowness of it. Getting to know someone, like a trophy. A collected person. 

And there is that in me too. I also want to collect people. I also want to think fondly on my collection.

And yet, there is a distance now. Walls that seem natural and permanent. A disinterest, a forgetting.  A push back where once I might have constructed the bridge. 

And also there is a desire to be that for someone, a piece collected. To want to be known. 

I've been thinking about the "date" I had recently. How disinterested she seemed in me, how it was easier for her to go on about her own thoughts and interests than feigning interest in me.  And I can understand that, its the other side of the same coin. In either case, protecting. I ask myself why I turn the tables and ask questions. Is it humility? Is it curiosity? Is it just that I want the person to really care, if they are asking and its easy to prove they don't if they don't push? Is it that I am bored with my life and don't have an interest in the mundane things I could share?

I've been dissatisfied. I don't know what I want, or where I am going. I feel like I am already dead, and I have to choose a new life, but none of them sound interesting. 

I want to figure it out, but I don't really have the time, space, energy or connection I want in order to do so. 

The thing I want from Grad School: regardless of the subject,  is a time to think and process, a community of people in the same position, a period of growth and change accompanied by others in the same spot. 

Why don't I ask my friends? Because they are not in the same spot. 

I am surrounded by opportunities, that don't seem interesting enough. 

I think I am special. 

Meeting new people

Before going to meet  "C" i felt a weird mix of nervousness and excitement and also a "you've done this a million times" it's normal kind of feeling. It wasn't just my head reminding me of that, it was a felt reaction.

When she sat down I didn't get up to meet her, it felt weird like we were already planning on being friends not romantic. And that's kind of how it proceeded. Not an interview, but I asked questions, she responded. I shared a little but I didn't feel like I related entirely to a lot of what she was saying so it was more just listening and trying to understand. 

Her background and choices. Her mistakes and attempts to make them better.  Her interests and why... 

We batted around a few societal issues which was fun. 

With more time I could imagine it being much more mutual, growing a shared experience. 

She didn't look me in the eye when she talked, she often looked away, both when she was talking or when I was... So I didn't feel connection. I guess it was a lot of her thinking, and sharing it.

When she mentioned certain places, specifics, she looked at me, almost like an invitation.

When I was younger I would have attempted to be more empathetic to her situation, but as it was I became more reflective - because she had obviously spent a lot of time processing it all.

Overall I was really impressed with her insight into her own life, experiences and reactions. I've met very few people who have dealt with a lot and been able to deal so well. 

But she was also really aware of the distance that causes between herself and others. Which was kind of fascinating.

Shared interests, but not chemistry. I guess that is how these things sometimes go. 

Illusion.

I've been reading the Ram Dass book "Be Love Now"  which is part memoir and part spiritual teachings. At the point in his life that he is writing from, he describes most of his spiritual beliefs through the relationship with his guru, who is projected as being very Christ like. Always loving and serving, not trying to build power, but acting on each person is subtle ways.

Its funny how it makes Christianity more palatable for me.  The idea of Christ as a guru, an enlightened, or almost enlightened person who is simply trying to help others get to that point makes a lot more sense to me than what Christianity has become. In fact the words he uses are almost interchangeable with the words of the Hindu teachers.

Ram Dass writes that because everyone comes to his Guru with a different set of karmic baggage, they all perceive him completely differently. They talk and gossip about the Guru, exchanging stories and rumors to try to understand him better. They also all walk away and teach differently based on their own perceptions. So Ram Dass describes how he spent much of his time immediately following his first trip teaching about love from an ego based perspective, he simply wasn't ready to actually feel the love and reflect it from his heart. He could talk through it consciously, and connect to it on that level, but it wasn't until much later that he was able to open his heart, and also to teach from the heart.

He also describes how early in his own devotion, he was obsessed with the physical form, the physical presence of his Guru, but later he and others, almost preferred to be separate because their senses wouldn't be so demanding. They were able to understand and reflect the teachings better when their senses and desires weren't interfering.

Sometimes when I am reading it, I desire the relationship he has with his Guru. A loving mentor who plays many roles. Other times I am irritated with the writing because (as he interpreted it at the time) he is so obsessed with the personhood of his guru, that it feels he has forgotten the truth of the teachings. That is to say, his Guru is only his Guru because he is reflecting the love and oneness of God (the universe, etc). So when he writes over and over about the Guru, I keep imagining the man, instead of what he means, which is "God reaches out to me through this image."

Other times he clarifies, that his Guru acted out of love, because he was able to see everyone else as God (as well). He was simply reflecting like a mirror the oneness, love and compassion that is the only truth. His Guru was able to see the reality, where as everyone else was caught up in the delusion still, his job was to subtly lead them to their true self.

One of the metaphors that he uses I found particularly helpful. He describes the oneness as the ocean, and when you think of yourself in the ocean, the ocean can be brutal and beat down on you. It wants to dissolve you into it and once you are a part of it, it will be blissful. But because you see yourself as separate, life can be painful, disappointing, exhausting. The Guru then acts as a guide to help you melt back into the ocean.

He describes though that it is very tricky. Our egos cling to our form and the meaning we make of things and experiences.  We bring a cup and ask for the ocean, we want it separate. We want to hold our holy moments in our hands, so we can reflect on them, become nostalgic for them etc. Like holding on to our memories of an event rather than just living out the love of the event infinitely.

I've been thinking a lot about how I feel so separate from other people. I also feel separate from parts of myself, parts that I look back and see existed, but I've forgotten how to access. In eastern religions, I am still that, but the illusion that I am not is what causes me suffering, causes me dis-ease. It is my ego, and the fact the I cling to these disillusions that keeps me from being it, and yet... there I am.

In church this morning I was thinking of running out a little early. There is a part at the end where you hold hands with people and sort of share a blessing. It always makes me feel good, but also like most hand-holding, leaves me feeling nervous.

Its strange how much anxiety I have interacting with other people, especially considering within my belief system they are not separate.

Sometimes when I walk around the lake, I envision that each person I see is the face of God, its a lovely little walking prayer, that sometimes centers me in that love...
But I am easily distracted. I yearn and desire. I reach and question.

A few weeks ago I got excited to go back to school. It felt like the right path. Now I am questioning again. Part of me wonders if I should leave the country again. Part of me wants to be isolated and learn how to deal with myself... become desperate until I need to reach out.

When I think of the best of myselves, I hardly recognize them in me currently.
I want to feel good about myself in the way I interact with others... but I just don't feel called.

I am not wrapped up in love the way I feel I should be. Nor do I feel capable of asking for it. Nor do I feel a desire to ask anyone...

Its a strong illusion.


I wonder if this is why I feel called to Shiva and not Vishnu. The compassionate ever present sustaining growth and love, versus the much more eventful...

Dreams

In the dream it was like I was meeting aliens. There were two of them, it felt strange but not entirely uncomfortable... They were friendly, like seeing cousins you haven't see in a long time. 

When I saw the first one, I thought it was the only one... I wasn't yet aware of the other. The other had a had on or something, maybe this one did too, and when it revealed its head I saw that it had two ears sticking out from the top of its head. 

It wasn't unattractive, they were long like a mix of a bunny and a cat, and they wound and twisted and seemed to be able to move on command or instinct. At first they seemed so natural that it made me think that this was the normal state of a person... Then I noticed the human like ears on the side of their head and I was again reminded of what humans look like: if this was a human, it was a different kind of human, the shape of the ears took on a different fascination, aesthetically I wanted to understand how they fit in. I wanted to know the physiology that shaped them... And t was while I was talking to the alien like being that the second showed up. 

This one also seemed fascinated, but as much with me and the other as with its own adaptations....

It took off its hat, and it's forehead changed, opened up, revealing its "third eye" which instead of looking like an eye looked like a sort of void with a fluffy fringe protecting it. 

The alien was not disturbed by it, but sort of remembering that it could do that... Like  "oh yeah, this happens."

It's a funny set of images...

I remember wanting to spend more time with them, I was fascinated and a little disturbed. 

I woke up and thought that they should be characters in my novel, but now that I'm reading spiritual stuff again it makes me wonder about characteristics I'm developing in myself, what am I acknowledging, pursuing eye?

Am I listening? An I seeing beyond?

Will I pursue that? 

Reconnecting with the heart

Sometime recently I made this decision to try to reconnect with my heart. To open up and let it emote and care again. I am still shy and introverted, still sure that it will not help me to reach out for some unknown reason... but its been locking itself away for years now and that sucks.

So far i've just been a little more aware of beautiful things, a little more touched by songs and good dialogue and good writing.

But I hope that one day I will be comfortable enough in myself to share my positive and negative thoughts and feelings without having to triple check them every time. To be comfortable enough in my own skin, and trusting enough in my relationships that I can be open and honest, compassionate empathetic and loving.

I am hoping that this reiki stuff along with my renewed interest in eastern religious concepts can help me with this... I am hoping that getting more involved (mctc in January, potentially grad school in the fall, going to church etc) will help bring a sense of community, or roots here that i haven't felt in a while. I think I am going to commit to the twin cities. Other places appeal, but I don't have a calling, or a real longing to go. I want community and since I've had it here in the past, and I am aware of the place... maybe I can have it again.

Making friends is hard.
Loving people is hard.
Trusting people is hard.
Caring and giving are hard.
But they're worth it.
Without a little challenge, life seems colorless, dull and dismal.

In the Middle

I just got a weird email from my Mom basically asking why I never want to hang out.
My Dad gave me shit this week for prioritizing a friend's concrete offer to hang out over his non-committal. My boss sent out a text saying we haven't been smiley enough at work. I just had a conversation with a former co-worker who is still in the middle of it all, he was trying to prepare me for some of what I might experience in Grad School.

I think I am going to sign up for a Masters in Social Work program at Augsburg. I still have a lot to figure out, but work is not fulfilling. Writing is hard to concentrate too much on, and I don't see myself forming a community here or having a reason to stay if I don't get involved in something new.

Might have to take biology at mctc, maybe a spanish class too. Why not?

Its hard to be in the same physical space with people who aren't in the same head/heart space.

I don't know what to do about that. Investing in myself has meant getting further away from others...
that wasn't the goal, but as much as I am concerned about it, I don't mind not feeling ashamed of myself for not fulfilling these crazy expectations I used to have of myself.

I am annoyed with writers block. I have some scenes I am working on that just don't feel right... and its hard to move on to something else when you're already feeling disappointed with what you've done.