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.

Just a thought

When a girl likes you, she can touch you, even when you tell her to stop. She thinks it's ok, because she isn't doing any harm, right?

I get irritated with women really quick when they act that way. I do my best to not push that limit with them, and within reason I try hard not to be too defensive. 

But it's a weird double standard, and is there really any way to say "stop I'm feeling violated" in the moment?

I haven't always respected that line. It's one of the most troubling things I've recognized about myself and my actions.

 I also wouldn't ever want someone to feel as guilty as I've felt about it. 

Who are you becoming?

Went to Church today after a strange morning that I will describe shortly.
Church was good, but again I felt like it would have been better Spirit of Truth style. There was something really good about SoT that other services seem to lack. The things I like about the UU Church is that it doesn't trigger me, there are no or very few words that cause that "I am not comfortable with this" feeling. The music is pretty good too. I like the sermons a lot, but though they are incredibly well written -again I feel like they are a half step. The minister is doing the work alone, instead of doing it with the people. Perhaps its just the nature of being a former teacher, always wanting the facilitator to step up and facilitate.

I had the same reaction to the opposite behavior this week at a discussion following a beautiful movie. The facilitator basically said "so if you want to be a part of the discussion, now is the time..." and then shut up. She gave some final thoughts, and responded to different people, but she didn't lead it.  Since we are already on the aside, the movie was called Pride and it was about a group of lesbians and gay people in England who decide to stand up for and raise money for a group of welsh miners. This is during the Margaret Thatcher crack down in the 80s. Both groups grow and change, inspire and challenge each other. It was a beautiful, moving, funny and yet serious film. Totally recommend.

Back to the UU...
The sermon today was about asking the question "Who are we becoming?" (individually, societaly etc) rather than asking the question "What should I do?"   The minister gave examples from his life, dealing with his kid (comforting in the night is an opportunity to bond), dropping labels and fear to become friends with a prisoner. One of the readings earlier in the program also dealt with this concept, the professor was testifying in beautiful prose about how she had lived her life professionally(formally) but it wasn't making her feel the richness of her work (or her own spirit), at the request of her students she allowed the wall to drop and became the teacher she wanted to be. If it had been a SoT thing, we might have had some good conversation about our lives based on this question, instead I am writing here.

This morning I rather dramatically threw out my go to line "What am I doing with my life?" which is a statement/question I say quite often even in seemingly benign situations E.G. my papers are disorganized WaIdwml?, I am hungry and can't decide where to eat WaIdwml? and also in the bigger cases like today.

I awoke terrified. Someone had entered my room in the middle of the night and was coming towards me! Totally unexpected situation. I am used to a cat jumping on the end of my bed, but a full human making their way at my face while I am trying desperately to hide in my thin sheets -this is the stuff of nightmares!
She - (yeah strange women are also scary in the middle of the night), seemed to be drunk, was mumbling something and it occurred to me that perhaps this was my roommates girlfriend.
For some reason she decided she needed to sleep in my room , which allowed my fear to become confusion and as her statements became even more strange, eventually I became rather angry.
It was the middle of the night, this woman had invaded my private space, AND was sleeping on top of the kinds of things I'd have removed if I were inviting guests in... which she acknowledged  "Why am I laying on top of a plastic pouch (capri sun)?" "whose glasses are these?"

I'd already launched myself into the door way so that I could interrogate her from across the room. "Does he know you are in here?"  "What are you doing?"  "Where is your home?"
I got no answers that were clear... instead it was a lot of (drunken?) poetry and metaphors and often I wasn't sure she was talking to me at all, more like she was restating the question to herself in order to visualize it.  "Why am I sitting on someone's glasses, keeping them from seeing? funny how thats the exact situation..." 
Now I was confused and angry, but I was also totally still asleep and couldn't really decipher anything, so instead of kicking her out (I still didn't understand the situation), I just left.

I went and complained on messenger to Jesse, and then began looking up apartments, then (at Jesse's suggestion) masters programs and places in Seattle. It felt like a last straw, like why am I doing this to myself...I've been complaining about my living situation, my lack of money, my general discontent with a bunch of stupid (easily fixed) bullshit.
If I had been 20 and a drunken girl stumbled into my dorm room at College, I'd have thought that was par for the course, but to be dealing with this... why don't I just get my own apartment?

But as the time went on, I started just feeling sorry for her, for them, for whatever. I got a few less hours of sleep so someone who obviously needed it could get some rest. Who knows...
later when I returned to my room to grab things to shower she'd vanished and I started wondering if she'd ever even been there. Was this a ghost? (had nightmares about people coming at me in bed before) Was she the one giving me the message that I need to move on?  As I showered and prepared to leave the house, I desperately hoped I wouldn't run into either of them. I wanted to believe instead of some strange craziness that reminded me of too many bad times, that this was instead a vision. A spirit come to tell me to move along.

Who am I becoming?

I've been battling with that question for years. When I was younger my entire world was based on being seen as dependable, there for people, comforting and empathetic. Obviously that hasn't changed too much in the extreme cases, but in the day to day I've become increasingly vacant. I neglect my friendships, I leave the country, I pursue the things I want to pursue... and if you aren't part of peoples' lives than they can't depend on you... and I thought that I wanted that, I wanted a different Mike.  
I do want that, to an extent. But I find myself missing being part of a community, being part of a larger whole, where people play roles and go back and forth. Where its not independent or dependent, its both some of the time, and it doesn't matter because there are others around if you aren't.  That's what I actually want.  And part of the problem is that over time I have decided I don't want it alone. I want it in the context of a relationship, I want a partner who balances me and who I can balance too. I want that relationship as central, and surrounded... and I want it to be meaningful both personally and socially. I don't want a partner who thinks I am amazing and that's the end of it. I want one who encourages me to be amazing, and draws me into places I'd not think to venture.  And I want that before I exhaust myself again trying to help people. I want to help, I just want someone to have my back too.

People been asking about the coffee job, about whats next...

The other day I was walking around the lake trying to see people's auras. I can't see colors, but I see shifts in light at the edge of their form and trace the people and sometimes radiate. I'd never tried to do it before, but now it seems really easy. While I was doing this, I decided there are still things on my list that I'd like to pursue. One of them was to be a healer (more mental/emotional than physical). I've been pushing the idea around a bunch in my head... it seems like a path worth developing, and though it seems like hard work, time consuming, sometimes a little dismal... I don't immediately feel the sense of aversion that I do from other things right now. My mind/body/soul has recovered a little, and this seems like a pursuit that would allow that to continue AND give back. To continue the work I've done in the past, to create connections, and teach, and help... but without as much personal burnout (at least that I know of).

I am in the research stage and nothing has jumped yet...
but things are starting to come together, and instead of feeling the cynical -very familiar selfishness that I've been feeling, this is starting to feel like someone I want to become.

I want to write my book, learn spanish, and guitar, paint and maybe perform some poetry... all of these are pursuits I need to continue, but I also need to be part of something, or I'll lose all my muses and passions all together, which is not acceptable to me.

2am thoughts

It's that time of the day that I always spend awake,  wishing I wasn't, never productive but with countless thoughts running through my head. 

At first it was about various types of spacecraft and quantum physics(curtesy of a video I watched before falling asleep). 

But now I'm thinking of all these women in my life and their choices around men.  

Moving too quickly, never moving at all, choosing men who can't be their equals, or seeing their partners as better than themselves.  

It's interesting how our choices relay our way of seeing ourselves so clearly. 

How we are never quite comfortable with good fits, because they don't actually ease the discomfort we create in ourselves... Not easily at least. Far easier to find someone who fits the idea we've created than the reality.

So we contort to make ourselves more like them, or hold a jealous gaze, or trust their idea of us but never raise our voice, or convince ourselves it will be easy to leave, or hold ourselves at distance. 

None of it for a better relationship, none of it heals our wounds... Just prolongs them.  And maybe if you find the one with the right baggage and the right attitude, you can push and pull eachother through it all... The unhealthy can become something more stable, given time. 

But most of my friends are cynical about other people's relationships/marriages... And in some cases, despite the lack of acknowledgement -it shows in their own.

I'm not different to this. When I regard my own relationships they were unhealthy, not very balanced. Perhaps this is why I assume my friendships have been a better use of my energy than failed romances.  

Although I've been reconsidering myself as a friend these days, I still understand that in general I met my friends as equals. Valued them that way at least.  Not pedestals and distances. Not feeling like I was better than them somehow...

But if I'd been in a romance with any of them... It makes me shudder almost. I don't see healthy avenues that direction. Maybe it's my own inability to see good fits for myself, or maybe these decisions were the better course. 

It was a day.

Got a new computer today. There is a nice feeling of "things are possible with less hassle" however at the end of the day, a new toy doesn't make your world all that different. I hope it doesn't become a new distraction instead of a tool. 

Went to first universalist church today. Went to the information session after. Considering joining. I liked the vibe, though it's hard to compare to sot. After the sermon I thought, now would be a great time for a break out session. But at this Church they do that in circles that meet later in the week. I am hoping to join one.

Considering a new career path. Not sure how ready I am, but I have some ideas.

Did very little writing this weekend. It was supposed to be my 4 days of badass kick it in gear writing weekend... Instead it turned into a bunch of other things. Overall I am both pleased and not pleased by the results. 

Time to get some food. 

Feeling the casual purposelessness of my new life.  The last few interactions I've had with folks have felt like misses.

Saw a movie by myself tonight and it made me feel guilty for spending the money. 

Gonna buy a computer tomorrow likely so that I have more things to distract myself. See how long that lasts...

It's cold and feels like winter could come quick (though the weather report says no). 

I don't think I'll find a human comforter for winter, so I'll probably have to go dig up some more boxes from my brothers place. 

There is a desire to move out, and a masochistic side that's says I don't deserve it. 

I started the day wondering if I could escape to Antarctica. I'm not sure it's a bad plan. 

No idea what I'm doin

I wonder if there are jobs that don't require a little asscovering (not literal), I've found that my job is sometimes a series of slight shifts from the truth: which is annoying. It's not so much that I don't want to tell the truth, I just don't want to get it trouble, and don't want anyone else to... And it's funny to be reduced to a teenager like that. 

Walked around a bunch today with a friend. She made it very plain that I could have dated her if I'd ever asked, but she was trying to confirm that I am loveable, in that way, if I wanted to be. 

It was interesting because she was also frustrated with me, almost scolding me for never making a move, and what that meant in terms of the way I've chosen to be her friend and not her romantic partner. 

I got a little emotional, like sad that I've chosen to deny myself a lot... But at the same time I knew that I was also just responding empathetically. I wasn't interested in that way, so I didn't act. If I'd made the choice to act, we'd likely not be friends today. 

While we were out I was stealing looks at other people. Curious about them. I was staring at beautiful things and taking them in. I was listening and responding to her, but also in my own world, and that too validated for me the choices I've made. 

But it leaves me wondering what I'm looking for, whether I'm actually looking at all, and to what extent I'm honest with myself about it all vs people pleasing. 

The fall colors were mesmerizing. Beautiful paintings all around.