To be comforting and comforted

Part 1(written at work):

I haven’t been writing lately. Not sure why, maybe just that nothing feels settled, and then when it does I have no need to record the trappings. Maybe a little less satisfied with my own revelations. At therapy last night, my therapist confirmed that she is a little intimidated working with me. She said some things that I had already assumed might be true such as that I may have to get angry and work through it with her, that I would need to practice being more upfront and honest (risk hurting her feelings), that perhaps I could try wiping the slate clean and coming to her less a know-it-all, and more, just living into the experience.

She used the words processing in the overthinking way, and suggested maybe I need less of that and more being present in the experience. Sometimes I find it boring to sit still.  It makes me feel restless. Other times I can be very mindful and experience all the things, I prefer to do this when I can be grateful for them, curious, fascinated… but rarely do I turn off the thinking that accompanies it.

She doesn’t get me yet, she is still trying to figure me out. And it is difficult for me to sit with that knowledge, and recognize that just like me, she is working through it through her own lens, which is not accurate to my experience. It’s a slight distortion that will impact things. But she is a little unsure, she is picking up something from me and it puts her a little on edge, and she wonders if I am ready to let her have control...  and I am not.

Work has been particularly unsettled. The stuff with the leaders reignited the drama behind the scenes. Those who remain, are worried but trying to move forward. The staff on the whole has low morale and high compassion fatigue. We only have a few handfuls of kids but their tiny little tantrums are throwing everyone off. The therapists are all experiencing a little burnout. I want to play the wise old man, but there are times I can’t rely on others to pick up the pieces. I need to slow down and accept people where they are at, but this collection of our bent and trembling fingers is an odd shape for a container. We are seeing the limits of our abilities very early on… and wrestling with the disappointment, the grief of that knowledge.

Is this what I want?  More and more I recognize that it isn’t. Not so much that my heart can’t hold it, or my mind can’t conceive it, but that my life won’t sustain the effort. The work can be comforting, can give a sense of purpose, but more often than not, I feel challenged in ways I don’t appreciate, and unmet where I wish to be challenged. It is life handing me a plate and saying “here do this” and I have always been a picky eater. What will I gain from this experience? I wonder. The challenge of slowing down, or accepting my strong voice, of holding boundaries, of pushing expectations when I don’t know that the other person is ready for this challenge?  It is very opposed to my nature. Maybe that is a good thing. Maybe I keep taking on these efforts for a reason. Maybe it is important to know how to play a role even when you don’t have assurance that it will work. Be the cog, not the master of the machine, play your part. 

Everyone has different ideas of what I “should” do, but what am I called for? Where is my alignment, I don’t know. I know that when I step in the building I feel a sense of overwhelm, not of creativity and joy. I don’t walk in feeling excited usually. And I don’t get to be my whole self. What would happen if I did? I’d be shut down, just as the kids are. The job requires self-regulation, boundaries, a recognition of the big picture AND a willingness to act.

This morning I was thinking the reasons I dislike the yellow painting (and T did like it –other than trying to cheer me up), is that it is the solar plexus, the action chakra. I am the one who sits and controls by inaction, and it scares me to act impulsively. Thoughtful planning, intention, forethought… that’s my jam. Heart, seeing, grounding… I can do that. But action, no. Action gets poor results when not thought through.

Grief and loss, and the changing of the seasons. Dance with me, I sing to myself as I stare at the trees blowing in the wind. I feel a fantasy creeping in, a dreamlike stare transfixed on the movement, seeing in it all things and nothing. I wonder if that is what I am like, a collection of atoms to project upon. At my best, I am part of the nothing, but everyone and their mom is telling me to take up space. To be the polished mirror that is my true self in this life, don’t skip the steps. Don’t be too eager to vanish, it will only hurt you and those you love. Sloth takes many forms including invisibility, and the avoidance of the hard truths.

This job doesn’t fully serve all the needs, so where can you find some resolve, some connection that encourages and expands life?

Or maybe this is not the season for expansion, maybe this is the season for letting go, falling away, accepting the loss. Maybe this is the time to gather, harvest, pull it all in tight around you, even if it wasn’t an abundant year, there are still blessings, there is still gratitude. 

Part 2 (written at 10:30):

Everyone tells you things, just not in the way you want to hear. The students you are most proud of for their growth, will have a regression out of nowhere, a way of saying don't let go yet, I have work to do and need your help. The kid throwing a temper tantrum, saying that they don't yet have the skills to handle their overwhelm, can you hold this?  And it is all good, it is all ok to sit with, as long as you don't hurt anyone else... but as Fiona reminds us: "evil is a relay sport when the one who is burned turns to pass the torch." And how else can one describe these traumas not yet resolved? I work with a lot of externalizers.

Today was an odd day of walking the line. My students need to be held accountable for their actions, and not just given understanding for their miseries. It is a both and... more complex than anyone cares to acknowledge. How can they hold themselves accountable? The adults in their lives never did. 

The day left me feeling drained. I got home, ate food, neglected to do laundry or go for a walk, went to bed around 6:30??, woke up at 10:00 PM full of thoughts about work. This is not role modeling the self regulation that we ask for... 

It seems to me that we are asking for/demanding actions that the kids are not able to fulfill, like in a school environment we are scaffolding them to their better natures. But that is not necessarily therapy as it is often not a choice, in the moment. That is where the tension is... holding them to account - while also trying to remove ourselves enough to support them in processing their behavior and actions. I am not sure I am a "good" therapist... I ask very much of them, but also sometimes do their work for them. But why would teenagers be ready to do anything other than what I am saying... they don't have the inner motivation, they don't have the experience, and no one in their lives (who they would listen to) is willing to coach them through the steps of growing through pain, rather than avoiding it. 

Why would anything change? And if so... why stay. You've done this before, you know its a long slog... its a good role, but is it your role?

Part 3: 

I was thinking while half asleep that I need a poetry prompt book, and need to sit every night and write something out. Poetry more than journaling, more than other things in general actually holds weight for me. Even the poems I write that I dislike have a memory or an insight to them that I don't necessarily get from journaling. I woke up thinking about ars poetica (a poem about writing poetry), and wondering if I should do one with my students. Today and yesterday I was comforted several times by old poems written throughout my decades, and kind of amazed that I both knew and didn't know their power at the time. Some sort of magic. 

I've been finding comfort in Netflix and old vices. In some ways, both remind me that there is a world beyond my own, and in other ways allow me to escape in ways that I am not sure I should find comfort in. What does it lead to?  I am more messy than I let on. There are things that would actually make me feel better -going for a walk, getting my laundry done, cleaning the apartment, journaling, writing poetry, connecting with a friend, finding actual love... but I am vegging out eating cookies that give me stomach aches, and watching tv. Everything feels so familiar, like I went through it 2 decades ago, and it bothers me how little I've changed despite changing so much. 

I am telling myself a story of who I am... and lost in it again. It might be time to go travel or do a silent retreat, or eat some mushrooms. 

what is it that looks?

 Anna Brown asks, reminding us that we are not our thoughts, feelings, even sensations, we are the thing that acknowledges those. 

What is the thing that recognizes that I am looking at the screen?

thats the real me, and I have the choice in what I pay attention to. 

This weekend was a good example. 

I was sort of dreading seeing a friend I haven't seen since covid began, worried about not having anything to say, not feeling connected, not feeling like it was worth my time. I went anyway, had a fine time, realized I probably need to see this friend more so that this isn't my narrative.

Took a different route home, saw new things, enjoyed the scenery.

Ate at some places I used to go. 

Went back to my stuck routines. 

I woke up this morning and wanted to go back to bed. This weekend I had multiple dreams in which I was in conflict with people because I couldn't communicate well enough to get them to understand. I woke up cranky, feeling depleted, wanting to go back and reverse the situations... I didn't want to exist, had nothing to wake up for, felt fucking dismal. I went back to bed without coffee or head ache meds, and woke up again around noon. I grabbed coffee, went for a walk with my Dad, felt good again. Went to target, did laundry, made dinner, shaved (first time in months), did the dishes after dinner. 

Such major shifts in my mood and thoughts. And what is the difference?  coffee, yes, but also, just what I put my mind into. 

I keep thinking about how I need to change my mind set around dating and social life. That if I live into my anxiety, it will depress me, whereas if I do all the things "I know I should" then everything will be fine. Everything is fine. I am just... paying attention to all the wrong stuff and then judging myself and my circumstances based on that. But I can choose differently.

We shall see if I can remind myself this week. 

I am trying to work out more and told myself no dessert until you work out. I need to be more deliberate in my actual life. Apparently the tarot reader I am watching agrees. 

Spoon Theory, CBT, motivation, pleasure, finding self in the larger world

It’s hard to change patterns. Especially when they challenge your core beliefs or values. Or when you aren’t sure what the outcome will be. Or when you are just too fucking introverted and introspective to not overthink it.

I’ve been getting feedback from bosses at work that they know I am more capable than I am demonstrating. I haven’t necessarily known what to do with that. There are reasons I pull back, and then other times I share too much and people give me a look like “damn, you’re too much.”

If I can’t sort through my thoughts first, people usually end up more confused… too many ideas and feelings at once, and they often ask, what they are supposed to do with the heap I leave on their door step. At an annual performancereview on Monday I got mostly 3 out of 4s. I suggested I am reluctant to step up more for two reasons: A) I don’t really want to care-take my coworkers –an experience I felt like I was starting to do the previous few weeks, because most of them are younger and I see their shit too clearly when I ask. B) I am worried about stepping on the toes of the folks who are technically supposed to be doing the work that I am feeling called to step up in. For instance my newer coworker who is managing the Mental Health Workers. I want them to be like new clinicians, but really they are just like post undergrad first job type workers who don’t know the ins and outs of mental health. If they are curious, I could teach classes… but the impression I get is that they are only half in. Too busy, too overwhelmed, and would rather spend their time socializing -post undergrad, but still in adolescence, you remember that, right? That thing where you lose your community from college and are desperate for a new one… half of them have multiple jobs and it feels like a lot to ask.

So it puts me in an odd position where I don’t want to do the thing that is natural and exciting to me, the thing I have always done, sticking my nose in other people’s business… and I am not exactly sure what else to do… because it still needs to be done and the fact that it isn’t done raises my anxiety through the roof some days.

But is it just my core shit playing out? Yeah… if things are going less than perfect, it’s my fault. If someone is hurting or dramatic, it’s my job. If there is a system that needs problem solving, I’ll jump in… but ask me to do more paperwork? Fuck you.


This week has been odd for me. Folks are reaching out and asking to hang out. Folks I haven’t seen for months or years. I have not felt motivated to be social at all. There are only a few people I genuinely want to see. In general, I feel very much like I did a few years ago, like my friendships aren’t getting me anywhere. Like my reliance on my parents as walking buddies, isn’t getting me anywhere. Like my life time of caretaking is gonna keep me from getting what I actually want. It is all very nice to see folks, but they don’t excite me, and don’t necessarily challenge me in the ways I want to be challenged. I am stuck. That’s what I am saying. I want to have a girlfriend, a family, a community, and none of it feels within reach.

This morning another 30 something single dude I know posted something on facebook basically saying ‘if it weren’t for obligations to others, I am not sure I’d still be here most days.’ And I felt that. It’s like low grade functional depression. I can muster the energy for work, but beyond that I usually wonder what the fucking point is. Grub, TV/games, work, sleep, porn, writing, the occasional walk, the occasional chat… nothing different day after day, and the only thing with any meaning is the work. The writing and the walks support my growth, but for what?

And of course, I know that I should be exercising more and eating healthy, and meditating, and likely medicating, and that all of these things might improve my energy and motivation, but then what? More energy to sit around?

Most nights this week I have taken a nap, ate too much junk food, stayed up too late overthinking and fantasizing, and then slept in slightly later than I should have. Didn’t have much reason to get to work at my normal time because it wouldn’t matter. Maybe its summer. Maybe its ‘moral distress’ as an article I read today put it. Maybe it’s the impact of Covid, but I was here before the pandemic… and that brings me to that beginning thing.

Gonna head into therapy again soon. I know what I “need to” work on, but am I actually ready for change? Not really. All the action oriented things that might improve my situation has never really changed these core beliefs about myself and the world. All of the thinking and talking hasn’t either. Not sure what I am expecting really. Maybe I don’t need to know. Maybe that’s a big part of my issue, feeling like I should know everything all the time.

When I was bored and under performing in the past I would add more, but then just get burnt out. Investing in friends, and organizations and work, didn’t necessarily change anything for me, even though I might have had more going on. I have been proud of my contributions, but nothing lasts forever including the pride you place in accomplishments, including the ecstatic feelings, including the heart shattering.

I think that’s the thing I am struggling with socially. Its like, well sitting at home is a 4 out of 10 on the fun scale, and hanging with a friend is a 4.25-4.5, but dealing with logistics and all that? Probably not worth it.

Spoon theory? Too many spoons spent, not enough things replacing spoons these days.

When people ask me what would be the replacement, I can’t really say. I am not sure it exists anymore. I miss being loved and loving someone. I don’t want that with my friends and family. Not really. I mean, there are friends who I’d assume it would be more like a 6 or 7 out of 10 to hang with them… worth my time, but I don’t see them often because they live far away and it would be a special occasion. If they lived here and I got into a pattern of taking care of them, rapid diminishment of spoons, as has happened with some of the folks I like here.

My trip to Boston at times was really giving, and then other times it felt like a total drag.

Each night when I am fantasizing my book, it feels giving, exciting, connecting, but then I try to sit and type and nothing comes. It feels depleting.

We watched the movie “Five feet apart” today and though all the staff remarked that it was super cheesy, I was crying my eyes out. Some of that is past relationships coming up. But part of it was that they just jammed the entirety of life into 2 hours… a love affair, fear, guilt, shame, core issues. It was predictable and hard to watch at times, but it was lovely. The framing of the narrative allowed for it, people without time are desperate to pack it all in, each moment matters more… plus they are teens… But maybe I was a little jealous for my own person to live for?



Victoria sent me excerpts from this post by Adrienne Marie Brown http://adriennemareebrown.net/2021/08/19/the-darwin-variant-and-or-love-of-the-fittest/

Some of it is so relatable, and some is something to strive for?

“I have sought to offer and experience all kinds of love throughout my life. I have learned that I can love people who will still choose to leave me, to risk their lives, and I will feel grief. I have been learning that there is the big collective massive love I feel for all that lives, and then the tangible offer of love as an energy, resource and commitment which I can only give to those with whom I am in a mutual, consensual and aligned relationship.”

“And, as is my practice, when I can see where that edge of growth is, I seek it in myself. Where in my own life do I still persist in actions that presuppose my importance and supremacy, rather than accept my small role in our collective existence?”


Later in the post she talks about also centering pleasure in the discourse (author/editor of pleasure activism, a book I could never get more than a few pages into), but I was thinking that as she talks about centering and celebrating what feels good, that is one of the big troubles I struggle to share with folks. The things that give me good feelings, don’t necessarily give others the same. So how to create a relationship or community when the language of pleasure/fun/excitement isn’t mutual?



Anywho… I am getting sick of writing. Probably go veg out and take a nap.

human emotion

 

Saturday. Got coffee, went for a walk, listened to some Chili Peppers. Wanted to sing, but my voice has been shit lately. Not sure what I am doing with my life today. Want some love and excitement, but don't want to talk to anyone, avoiding drama while wanting excitement. Same old story. 

I slept poorly most of the week, had a bunch of days where I needed to wake up early, had a bunch of days where I took a nap for too long after work. 

My coworkers and I are in the middle of our own stuff. It comes up when you are in this field. I don't think people who aren't in the field understand how that happens. Our job requires us to work through our stuff in order to be good at the job. Similar to parenting except not...

Yesterday I read a silly article on numerology and went around asking my coworkers for their birthdates, everyone said it was surprisingly accurate. Mine was an 11 again, oddly accurate. 

Had a lot of good conversations with my coworkers this week, but also feel like we are slipping. Like things aren't getting done in the way they need to get done. It feels kind of yuck some times. Yesterday my coworker had the students watch The Breakfast Club, but wasn't prepared for their reactions and it felt like that is the exact issue I have with the program... not enough foresight. But again, maybe that is just my issue in life. I am writing a book about it after all... which always amuses me when people call me out on it. I am like YES Prometheus made us, not Epimetheus... but oh well.   

My family had a weird group text moment in which my Dad asked people to come over, and my Brother said no because family members aren't vaccinated, and my step sister went off on my brother. and it all felt really gross. Now I don't want to talk to any of them... even though I wasn't involved. It just felt really toxic. Too many unprocessed emotions (fear, envy, hurt, anger, defensiveness, etc) , not enough empathy to understand. 

I think the fear of another wave is hitting everyone differently. I don't think we should shut down permanently, but I also think people should get vaccinated. I think viruses are part of life, and some of us will die. The issue should be treated with respect, not brushed off, and people can do what they can, but hiding from life isn't a great solution. That being said, maybe I am speaking of my own circumstances. Maybe I am afraid of living another year in isolation. Maybe I am already worried about how my life doesn't seem on track, and shutting down seems like it would make me hide further?

Maybe I just need to join more online communities. Maybe I need to quit my job and move somewhere else before lock down? Maybe I need to get a fishing license... who knows. 

I made a student cry this week. I make her cry all the time, but it was because she was shutting down and she needed to speak, and I asked her to speak, but she couldn't. Emotional panic attacks are no joke, but they happen because we aren't expressing ourselves openly enough. I had a bunch related to M... before and maybe after, I think I might have had one during. It was a weird thing.  I heard today that the reason I dwell has to do with intermittent rewards, and sunk cost bias... both of which make sense. I don't think about her much during the week when I am focused on work and recovery. But lonely weekends...

That coworker whose energy I am starting to like avoided me for a few days last week (or was busy, but it felt more intentional), but she didn't at all this week and it was nice. I had a lot of really positive feedback from people this week. Not sure what it means. Maybe my energy isn't as dead? 

Mitski - Drunk walk home (Live Boston Calling 2017)

Just such a good fucking rock song.

Listening to her for hours each day. 

or not.... money its a gas ... what are you worth

 

You ever cross one of those economic class barriers that you didn't recognize until it was too late?

Private pay therapy is one of those. I don't know what I was thinking, but crunching the numbers for even a moment and suddenly I was like... damn I will resent the fuck out of this therapist as my bank account depreciates. 

Now I am trying to figure out why I didn't see it coming. No rates on the website, not discussed during the phone call but alluded to, these are wealthy people things... you don't talk money because you have money. You talk connections, location, maybe time.  I guess she probably falls along the line of the area that she is located. Upper middle class. I should have asked more questions, her hourly rate is more than I make in a single day. I know I don't make much... "community mental health" is the title given to my line of work, which means you don't make shit but you serve the community. 

What I "aspire" to be... class is a weird thing. Everything is weird, but the rules and expectations of class feel especially ridiculous. I often try to remove myself from all that jazz. I saw a wedding party near Lake of the Isles and they looked so fancy, but at the same time, just like normal people. I was thinking that likely each of their outfits was like a month of my pay. And if I was invited to a wedding like that? I'd feel so out of place. 

As a "therapist" or "counselor" etc... I could make what this lady makes. I have friends with the same degree that are seeking out about what I make in a day for each hour of therapy. And I guess, my assumption is that I will end up doing that too. My mom charged $150 an hour -though she took insurance. I am sure there were some folks who didn't use it. 

I have friends in other fields who make 2-3-4-5 times more than me for doing less work, less responsibility, less liability and with less schooling. 

This is an interesting situation. Some folks talk about mental health and say you have to invest in yourself, kind of like a -pay money to make money scheme. Some folks would also justify it as an investment in self. I know therapy, and I know that I would feel taken advantage of, because I have the knowledge, what I don't have is the sounding board. An accurate mirror. How much would you pay for a good mirror? 

Thinking about having a therapist and what I would say to them did change my internal thought patterns a tad bit though. I started thinking about how to explain stuff to another person. Thats my favorite thing about having a person, a partner, etc. I think to them, instead of just to myself. Eventually when I go crazy or become a fanatic, I'll do that to G-d all the time like Rumi, but for now its just my own neurosis. 

My mom invited me over mid afternoon, and the thought was like "of course I am not coming over" in my head. It made me wonder why I have that reaction.  What I came up with is: introversion, other plans (that I was counting on), worries about not enjoying myself, investing too much energy, giving without receiving, and the spontaneity bringing up nervousness.  Then I was thinking about the relationship I have with my parents, and how in some ways we are more like friends, but not drop in friends. Then I was thinking about how some people have that with their families, the stop by, random drop in, assumption of availability. 

My family doesn't mean to be cold, but we are not warm welcoming folks. Midwestern room temperature? They'll give hugs and say welcome but it's more like, we agreed to be imposed upon for this time period. I don't think that was ever stated, it was something we decided on without talking about it. Steve and Ali hate it, and they wish it was more warm. The rest of us balk at the imposition though we might not say it directly. 

I went for a walk, and to target. Every time I go out now I look around and I am envious of people. I feel like I am not part of the club. The normal life club. I am in the single and sad club of people others avoid. I don't think it is exactly like that, but it certainly feels more like that than anything else. The third wheel? The creepo? Maybe part of the reason I clung to that relationship was because it bought me a sense of feeling normal for just a bit, a poem I never finished, "thank you for lending me some purpose for a time."

The envy is gonna be the real killer of me. I will get resentful and detest people, but really I am just jealous that they seem to have an easier time of it... 'seem' of course being the right word. I don't assume most people have it easier, just different. Eriksonian stages "Intimacy vs. Isolation" perhaps riding the line of "generatively vs stagnation" and of course replaying ALL of the previous stages constantly throughout each day. 

I know most people wonder if they are normal, but I was thinking that I have rarely ever been given the feedback that I am. Love me, hate me, ignore me, but most people who have met me give me some sort of feedback that I am weird. The teens I work with have shared that their first reaction was that I was unsafe, and their second reaction in many cases after getting to know me, was that I was the safest adult. But that order is interesting. I think it resonates with my fear and the responsibility I feel to present myself the way I do. 

no mind

 

Sometimes this funny thing happens to me when I wake up late, which is that my mind doesn't do the normal 3 thoughts at once thing. It's almost like de facto meditation. I have to concentrate to think. I can just stare at stuff and not have thoughts. It's so weird. 

I don't actually enjoy it because it feels like sludge. Like I want to be creative or thought provoking, but instead I just have a slight headache and an empty brain. I end up being 900 x more passive. I just sit and watch shit on instagram or youtube, and nothing matters or makes sense. It's kind of like, what's the point?

I am sure if I lived in a monastery I would go crazy, not just with too many thoughts, but when there weren't enough. I could sit at a lake, and not feel or think anything, and then over time I would start to feel like I was wasting my time because nothing was happening. Existence. Existence is... something I haven't gotten my head around. I can do a body scan, I can send out my awareness, but when it happens without my approval, the lack, its just like.... what is happening or not happening? 

Anyway, I am having some writer's block. Considering going home and doing nothing, rather than being at a coffee shop and doing nothing. 

Saturday

Probably gonna do some fun writing today. It's been raining and it is gray out. Maybe go for a walk with pops. Maybe play some more comp games or watch HBO. Watched suicide squad 2 yesterday. It was pretty good. 

Listening to a discussion between Robin DiAngelo and Resmaa Manakem, Robin saying "I am comfortable in a racist society... 'there is no inherent loss in living a segregated life." It makes me question myself, and where I am at. But I like their discussion because it feels nuanced, or leads to more questions. 

I find it very difficult to listen to progressives these days, and I think on a few fronts, because:

    A) I hear white guilt, not love, not desire for connection. I hear fragilizing and white saviorism. I hear people virtue signaling "I am so woke" and its just a different way of flaunting privilege.  As Robin says we have to think more about "Whats in it for us? ... not doing it for them..."

    B) I am aware that I am not gonna do the social justice work that changes the system at this time. In my daily life I am not seeking out the connections and love myself... I am offering it where and when I can, but not seeking it out. In essence, I am part of the problem.  In this discussion, they talk about the difference between showing and telling, you have to be different, not just talk/cognate differently. I am not sure that is where I am at... even if its what I want to be. 

    C) I am aware that it is so much bigger than the America centric view that we often see in these conversations. People's truths are subjective, and objectively we are part of larger whole of humanity. This culture and history is not separate from the larger whole. I like that Resmaa goes back in history, reminding us that white bodies came from a brutal system in which white bodies policed and tortured white bodies far before they did it to other bodies. In this discussion, he shares that equity work is different than cultural healing (anti-racist culture). 

I am not really involved in any community right now.  I think about SoT a lot, and how we were forming something like that... but it dissolved. Will I ever be in community again? Work community? I have a desire to be closer to my coworkers, but I am also aware that the younger ones are at a completely different stage of life, and the ones who are at my level have their own stuff going on. 

Potentially starting with a new therapist on Wednesday, but no insurance coverage so... that's gonna be expensive. I am hopeful, but I am also somewhat guarded. Its also just weird to let someone new in your life. How much do I share? What is important to share?  She named it in the phone call, my inner manager is pretty on guard. 

What? desperation, more complaining

This weekend has been a funny one. Simply in my head. Nothing more or less. I played games and watched shows and movies. I saw no one. Spoke to few. The lack of air quality kept me in doors Friday and Saturday for the most part. Today I took a walk. I didn't really respond to Rachel, the one person who asked to hang out. I sent a message to Jesse talking about the desperation I felt for something meaningful, while ignoring all the potential meaningful things I could have done. I got groceries and cleaned a bit. Almost felt bad for doing too much, because something has to be saved for later, right? Did a bit of writing, and realized it lacked substance. Read a tiny bit. Considered whether I should try to develop a crush on a coworker, just to have something. It's really a funny thing the mind does, tricks you into believing there isn't opportunity, when really you've just been ignoring it. 

I spend all my time minimizing, and rationalizing, and trying to be good. Trying to align my behavior with  my values, and when I can't do just right, when I am feeling too irrationally needy, I just go home and spend all my time blathering in my head. Drama in my head rather than acting it out.  Some of the stories say Karma doesn't just depend on action, its also what you think... well in that case I am up for another lifetime of this. 

Too much sugar this weekend. Too much non-involvement in anything meaningful. But not really any consequences for the moment. Maybe in the long run, it's the lifetimes of this. Like my immortal character, who becomes bored with everything. I thought I was clever, but really I am just fooling myself. But will I awake at 40, or 80 feeling the same?  The say loneliness kills people more than the other things... so sugar take me away before the isolation!

And the funny thing is, that I could book a flight for Jerusalem or Lhasa tomorrow. Walk away from this life. I could start a new business. I could eat pizza. I could adopt a child. I could do so many things... but instead I will go to work, and likely repeat the same pattern for another week. 

"The apocalypse is boring" I told Jesse. I have so little to do, and have pared down all my stressors to nothing. Parents have real worries... I have neuroses. I am 'privileged enough' that I have lost all my substance. I could float away and it wouldn't matter. 

Pay your rent. Pay your car insurance. Turn in your licensure paperwork. Prepare for another week. 

What is my goal this week? What will make it different than the last? What could I invite in to make myself feel like I was on track to something... anything. 

No context. Or rather the context is all in my head. 

I have a half written book, and if I die the hours won't have mattered. I have an apartment full of art I made and dislike. I have bins of things I have bought on trips that mean nothing to anyone. I have musical instruments that would get more use if I left them outside my apartment door. I have a steam account that would tell you I have played hours of a game and I am still not very good at it. I have a few bank accounts that are surprisingly flush, but I have no intention of using them any time soon, and if I die tonight, I hope they would go to my niece and nephew's college and travel funds.  I have a lot of thoughts and feelings that I don't think matter a whole lot in the long run, because I won't use them to change anything big... and the world is yucky right now. 

And I could do horrible things. Or I could do neutral things. Or I could do good things. Or I could just complain and go to bed and keep doing the same. And what does it matter?

Noureen says I have an air of death about me... like I have given up. Some of these weekends... I just resign to existence. But it's not all bad. I am also very grateful for all the wonders and curiosities and beauty and love. I just wonder if I have already received my fill... you know?  Or maybe the next part of my life is about to begin, and I needed to get sick of this one, to really appreciate the new. That could be true. 

Or maybe I will get E coli or hepatitis, or some horrible virus from a lover and so G-d is keeping me from them, because I am supposed to stay on this purpose for a while longer. 

Or maybe the apocalypse is just more slow and boring for privileged single folks like myself, and that's the price we pay for not having to live in scarcity and survival mode. Boredom... loneliness. 

Jesse responded that the short message I sent her should be my dating profile, but it just reeked of desperation and even though I am that, I am averse to that in people. I don't actually want to save anyone or be saved. I want to be inspired again. I want to have hope again. I want to believe in people and in myself.  But the weather app has said that the weather is "smoke" for the past few days... and the world just isn't sitting right with me right now. There is a reckoning for what we have done, and continue to do. And I am just as worthy of that recompense. Universe, I give you my services, my body, my neuroses, and eventually all my resources. This is all I have, and all I will ever have to give.  

Another sleep

 

I went to bed at like 2:30AM

this morning I had another dream, kind of hard to shake because of the feeling, not necessarily because I remember all the details. 

There was a hotel room. Pretty sure that's what it was. Initially there were other people there, and suddenly M's identical sister was stopping by, and she seemed like she needed something. I didn't get the weird vibe I got from her in person, it was more like my clients, I know they have emerging personality disorder traits, but underneath there is a person, and that person also has needs, regardless of the odd ways they usually get them fulfilled. No,  she was present. Personable. Rational. The way M was on her good days. So I felt an almost delight at getting to introduce her to people. Getting to share the positives I know about her, the accolades without the mistrust. And then we were alone. And the need was still there. So we talked. And then, even though there wasn't any thoughts of this going anywhere, the need turned even more physically intimate. And I wanted to satisfy, to satiate, but I felt it would be a violation. And I felt myself dissociating from my body, allowing her to touch and feel, while my mind was elsewhere, and she recognized it, and asked. Is this because of M? and I said yes, not because I didn't want good things for her, but because my heart was not willing to do the things she needed. And she understood, despite her hands still plying at my flesh, like a cat pawing, stretching, kneading. But eventually she pulled away. Still grateful for my company. And we talked about what had happened, and she said it had all gone wrong, and it wasn't her fault, and for some reason I believed her this time (like I did with M), despite my thoughts racing to all the ways it couldn't possibly true... but it didn't matter because, she'd lost the things she thought she needed and now was saying, at least, that she was ready to repair. To take responsibility. To move forward. And the connection felt nice. A moment to say even amongst all the bullshit, there was something meaningful at some point. 

I woke up wanting to live in my dreams. 

I went to work. It was good, not entirely satisfying. 

On my way home I wondered what this dream was about. Maybe a bit of intuition?  (I did have a kid turn the corner at least temporarily today). 

Rarely have I had purely positive thoughts about M's sister. In part because M never really trusted her -like for much of her life. I remember the last convo I had with them together, and looking at her sister uncomprehendingly, wondering who these people are... In a lot of ways her sister is just more openly demonstrative of the toxic side. I was staring at her because she was questioning why on earth I would ever want to have coffee and get to know their younger sister. As if trying to connect or understand or be attuned to anyone else was automatically a bad thing. It wasn't a personal thing even though she was trying to get me and M to turn on her sister, it was the underlying insinuation, caring about people isn't worthwhile. Those narcissistic traits just fully on display... but in the moment and from then on afterward, when ever I remember that conversation, I just see it as a spoken bond between these twins about how they use people. "Why on earth would you ever want a real connection?" was she saying it to me or trying to cast doubt for her sister? To turn her away...  ~you see he is weak, he cares, and it will mean hurt. 

jtxdfghf

 A student introduced me to the musician Mitski today (maybe with the support of another therapist), and everything I have heard so far is brilliant. Some very different sounding albums here, live performances are fun:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=22nLs0Omn-8

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MS3Ul2sEXZc&list=LL&index=1

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEIaBUuXDkc

summer blues

 

Not sure what it is lately, maybe some grief related to losing students, and turnover amongst staff. Maybe not having any gurus pull me from the crowd (ha). Maybe the lack of a crush. Maybe the fact that the world is on fire and the sky has been darkened every day by Canadian wildfires, but billionaires are going for joy rides like nothing is up. 

It feels a little like winter depression, like struggling to wake up, desire to hide or crawl into bed, difficulty getting motivated. I am not depressed really, just everything is a touch harder and little thoughts creep in that aren't very pleasant. 

I was supposed to go to Rachel's birthday party movie, the sky was clearer, but I went home and ate some food and decided I had enough time for a nap... and well, you know how that goes. But did I really want to go to the party? no. Was I figuring out how not to go? maybe. I was consciously putting in the effort to try to get hyped up... but...

I had a nightmare that finally woke me up  (about 4 hours later). I was in a car, speeding to get to a destination... it felt like it was something related to work, but might just have been an obligation. I was speeding down a road I hadn't been on. A sharp turn. Suddenly my car slid out, and I felt like I was not in the car anymore... like I could see it from all angles, including from high above. My car slid and tumbled and launched up a small embankment on someone's lawn landing upside down on someone's house, smashed into one of the rooms, so that the front of the car was facing the ground and suspended like that by the fallen debris. 

I was not in the car anymore. I was seeing it from many angles. Then I was on the ground approaching the house, and I could see an old elderly man (relief, oh they aren't hurt), and then a live-in nurse (Oh, they are taken care of), and then an elderly lady cry-wailing in the background (Oh my God, I hurt someone). There were a flurry of thoughts and emotions, fear of hurting others, fear of going to jail, fear of the unknown. I was crying and trying to remember what to do. I knew I needed to call 911, but it was like, they were already calling and again I could experience it from all angles. I could see them dialing the number. I could hear their discussion with the dispatch describing me crying. I was still outside their house looking in, and felt ashamed that I wasn't doing the right thing. I was trying to call 911 to report myself, but instead found myself listening to their description and nodding along. The old man and the nurse were talking, the old man didn't seem alarmed at his (presumable) wife's despair, the nurse wondered if she were having a heart attack and he basically shrugged it off. Her tone sounded like she was looking for someone to blame for all the discomforts, even though she was being evenhanded. I took comfort from the man's assumption that there wasn't anything else to do, even if she was having a heart attack, no reason to be alarmed, just keep following through. 

They finished the call, and I found myself trying to make my own. Still outside. Some part of me felt homeless, felt lost. I tried to look inside the car. Tried to find something to comfort me. A hoodie or something so that I could cover myself up as I waited for them to take me away. 

When I woke up I spent a considerable amount of time wondering why I had a cell phone in my hand, and whether that would be the thing that damned me. I do have a really hard time lately not checking stuff on my phone when I am driving. I don't know why. I usually wait till red lights, but sometimes I find myself looking at something while I am on the highway. Probably this is troublesome. 

I also spent a lot of time wondering whether I was ejected from the car, or pulled out (perhaps angelic intervention), or simply bailed out like I used to from the tire swing when it was going too fast. Seeing it from all angles, I wondered whether I hit my head, whether I had wounds I wasn't attending to. Whether they would think I was drunk. 

Speeding into obligations, suddenly cut loose, the collision of things I can and cannot control, the responsibility regardless, the desire to hide, the fear of being misunderstood, the curiosity of wondering why I know the things I do -without anyway to explain to the passerby. The way others respond, calm, accepting, wailing, pointing the finger at those who should take accountability. 

I found myself on a rather cruel joke yesterday. Rachel and I had talked about being single earlier in the week, Sat? (I don't know days anymore). But there was this amusing thought to me that maybe we are just waiting for the apocalypse and that is when we would find our people. And then the joke became something along the lines of "Don't worry single people, there will be some widow/widower that needs your support after their partner dies in a natural disaster." and "Hey people desperate to have children that don't have any, just you wait, some amazing parent is gonna sacrifice themselves for the sake of their children, and then what? Well, you will swoop in to half ass foster those children!" Life will make sense, tragedy will make sense of your present solitude. And its funny and kind of cruel, but its true right?  Life makes of itself, regardless of your perception of it being right/wrong, it just is... and we get to choose what we do with it. "Single people! don't kill yourself now, wait for your devastated future partner to appear."  And some part of me is like.... hmmm if all of us single wealthy people stopped using up resources and killed ourselves instead, would it save the world for those children and families? but then I was like... yeah but, come on... I mean were not THAT kind of altruistic.  Bo Burnham's song "comedy" in which he says "maybe I (white people) should just shut the fuck up... I'm bored... I don't want to do that..." 

My Dad asked me (over Red Lobster, living large in the retirement age), what I was planning on doing for social life this fall.  I had nothing. It was like I had been thinking about it, and came up with nothing, and then just assumed life would figure itself out, but once he asked, I just felt stupid. Like... "yeah, Dad, I am a failure at life. I have no plan other than work. I am basically giving up on other parts of life because I can't figure out how to do them."

amongst the crowd

 

This morning I woke up with drama on my mind. I was answered by a Teal Swan video that described perfectly the drama I was replaying, and the question I asked myself... and continue to ask, how to break this cycle?

I woke up late and struggled to get the day started. So coffee was more of a necessity than something to savor. I read a little autobiography of a yogi, and tried to picture the colors of southern India as the author described them. 

Then I walked to Pride at Loring Park, and tried to find the right mantra to put me in a space of appreciation. Eventually I sat under a tree and listened to the music as performers danced, and I people watched the crowds, wondering if I would see anyone I knew. I saw one person from Augsburg and had a brief convo that couldn't have been more than a minute. My mind replayed some of the drama, but it changed as I appreciated, said prayers for people, gave thanks. 

I questioned why my mind kept going back to the same old... and remembered that I haven't had a crush in a long time. There is simply no one new for my mind to obsess over. 

I enjoy people watching alone. But at a certain point I had a few questions of why am I always alone amongst crowds when people should be together? Why am I not experiencing things amongst people I care about... Why don't I reach out? Why am I not excited to see the people in my life? Why do I sit amongst a crowd, and try to convince myself of my fit, rather than just be with people...

I sat in gratitude with hints of drama. I appreciated, danced, took in the sights... After several hours I was starving so I left, probably got a little sun burnt. I don't take care of myself too well. 

July, named for Caesar or so they say

 

"I will bet my life on this scene."

This morning Alan Watts reminded me that risk, a little gamble, is the act of faith, of love, it is what makes life worth living. You have to give something away, you have to act and let go, and in that you find life. Frusciante called it the will to death or the act of creation, and I think he may have heard the same lecture by Watts. Watts relays that without risk, we become stagnant, lose our freedom, lose life. Living a life of faith means taking risks. The will to death, is not death, it is life. Trying to stay alive, defying death, not taking risks, is actual death. 

"The game of life is superb... it is to be trusted." "if you don't have faith in it, it will not work."

It's funny because this is a reality that we don't usually hear...  the necessity of the gamble, it is not usually put that way. That faith in the game is what makes the game worth living, and not having faith, trusting in the game, not gambling - is what causes death or the withdrawing from life. 

His lecture also discusses the difficulty in trusting in law... in the bureaucracy of communities that put their faith in mistrust. 

I was reading a lot today, how many lifetimes until conscious reunion with g-d? Would adopting Kriya Yoga advance this? Would I even want that? 

I find myself wavering on many things. Opportunities here and there. Faith in the path, and that the path will unfold when it is time. Moments of doubt, of bitterness. Desire and envy. I have little things I need to do, but I long for things that give me spark. 

I spent the weekend primarily with family. Enjoyed it, but didn't feel connected much of the time. Like sitting in a room, playing a role, but not feeling known, or at least not special. A room full of family, a division, a piece of love and connection to each. It was good. But it didn't drive me anywhere. I mean, Grant and my Mom drove me places. But it didn't make me feel further down the path. Being up north reminds me of the dreams I had of raising a family and bringing them there. All the little things. Grief really. And the question of, if I don't have a family of my own to pass forward in time, will I continue to want to be part of this experience?  The niece and nephew are wonderful, but a piece, a division. 

I have found myself asking my parents about their faith, about their states of being, and realizing that they haven't experienced the same things... that for them, the quiet peaceful moment of being present is what they looked for, and what kept them going.  And I am their child, so of course I will make all the same mistakes as they, and also learn all the lessons from them to move past them... but I am afraid to say it. To stand on my own. I don't know what I am moving in to. I don't want to make mistakes... but Watts tells me to gamble more. 

Maybe I should take that high ropes course, conquer my fear of heights. Maybe I should go to India. Maybe I should buy a house. Maybe I should ask out the next passing beauty. Who knows. 

I saw friends before and after the weekend. Pete and Jessica. Their lives are moving forward with children and partners, new jobs and locations. We caught up, but I am not caught up... if that makes sense. 

In the book there is this idea that when you give your life to g-d, your family enlarges, you are responsible for more souls but may feel less connected to each personally. I keep going back to that feeling of ecstasy I had a week ago. How when I saw people I could see their beauty but did't feel more connected to one than the next thing. A soul is a soul. Light is light. I found it all beautiful and sorrowful, and mesmerizing. Each thing was not a thing. I keep wondering if I felt separate to it, or just recognized myself within it and not attached to my ego. I remember feeling good about myself, and really dismissive in a validating way of my humanness. Like it was all so silly. 

The pieces come together spiritually, and then I find myself discarding them for easy pleasures, sex and candy, and still wanting something personal to hold and say this is mine, for me, forever. 

I want to travel and take pictures. I want to have stuff but with someone else. I want to invest my life in something that feels worthwhile. 

There is this funny exchange in the book where one of the gurus is being given his mission to share Kriya Yoga with the world, but his master who is an avatar of g-d, shares a golden palace with him first. He says this is the last bit of your karma you need to work off, you wanted this, so you must have it before you can renounce the old... and so he is initiated in this palace of gold and jewels... which is perfectly real and also completely illusionary. and the commentary basically says anything we ever think creates new karma that has to be answered, for better or worse, not just our actions but an untrained imagination, an overthinking mind, a heart that desires, will continue to dole out karma that keeps us locked in the Maya.... and of course it does. 

Of course there is cause and effect within the illusion, and of course it leads to our understanding... we learn, we grow, we make new choices, we develop boundaries... we learn to prioritize and shift our values towards the things that matter and spend less time dramatizing and dithering with that which doesn't matter... 

Why was I born this way? previous karma. Why will I struggle with these same things? Karma. Why will I spend more lifetimes this way, the karma I am contributing. Is it all natural and ok? Yes... 

I find myself thinking about how this belief system is the closest to my understanding of g-d, and then I also think about how I believe the same when I read mystics from other traditions... its all the same, just different metaphors and symbols for the same. The divine unity of being. 

So why am I so afraid that I am doing things wrong? That I am left out? That I am undeserving? That I am called to do something beyond my capabilities? none of it is true, and none of it matters. 

A rather funny way of demonstrating the consistency of mike's karmic/dharmic mental spirals: "yoga" -written 15 yrs ago. 

Ecstasy, maya, and the swamp

At the recommendation of my supervisor, who keeps pointing out that something is missing from my energetic field,  I started reading the book Autobiography of a Yogi. I started the first chapter and began to cry within a few pages. Something clicked, albeit momentarily, and I felt like I was back on the right path. Elements of the book remind me of Secrets of the Talking Jaguar, which had a similar impact on me despite my cynicism. A commonality between the books is that there is somewhat of a predestined path that one can move in and out of alignment with, and that when on the path things whether joyful or sorrow-filled make sense, and that when off it, things feel incomplete. This is something that has resonated with me for a long time. Like my little kid self felt that way, and I have always found myself trying to get into alignment and then finding that discomfort when off the path. Oddly though, the discomfort away from the path has changed, or rather the shame and guilt of it have shifted. It used to be that when I was off the path I felt ashamed, literally I held myself in a state of fear, strongly believing I was deserving of punishment. Now I find that I have come to understand that the veering is the punishment in itself. Disconnection from G-d, is hellish, there doesn't need to be a punishment beyond that, and these feelings of disconnect and discontent are enough to push me towards seeking the path again. And I do, in fits. A jump and then a fall back. 

The book describes the man's early life in a series of similar realizations, each time he is uncomfortable he finds some meaning in it, and each time he is on the path, some miracle happens that reminds him he is headed in the right direction. 

It's odd to me how many times I have experienced this, and still hang in doubt, still return to my worldly ways. I am a human after all, and my human nature is soooo captivating. 

When I was in India a man told me that I would return in one year. He also said that if I told anyone I would have 7 years bad luck... I am not sure if the luck was bad, but I also did not return. Still, I have this desire, like the writers to be plucked from the crowd by the mentor, the guru that will steer me in the right direction. Maybe I need to go on a genuine pilgrimage. No more of this sightseeing. A walkabout, but to seek vision. 

In the autobiography, he talks about what it feels like to learn from wise teachers that are not quite right for him. I feel I run into this a lot. I learn eagerly, and am grateful for the experiences, but never quite trusting. The Sufi center, the shamanic journeying class, the reiki class, the UU church. I take steps, but I am still waiting on the thing that feels right. Similarly, there was a woman in my dreams for like 5 years that I kept assuming I would meet, and just stop in my tracks and be like "Oh, hey, you're it." and presumably she would do the same. What is funny is that they weren't always pleasant dreams, in many cases we were undeniably attached but also in conflict, the kind of partners that love and lose and love and lose, over and over. Still I waited. Still I compared each next person to that face in my dreams. It is pretty much  the reason I stopped being attracted to blonds, there was this moment of like "that will never be her" and though I may still be attracted to beauty, the idea of finding love there seemed ridiculous to me. 

What a weird thing to acknowledge. It feels utterly ridiculous to me... to assume I can have love off the path. And that being said, my relationship with M was always complicated with this thought. With Jesse, even though I love her, I never really assumed she was someone I would stay with forever. With M, everything told me NO except the overwhelming desire to be in her presence. There is this meme that gets sent around about how when you find 'the one' it won't be someone who sets your heart racing, it will be someone who is comforting and feels like home. M set my heart racing. She set me adrift. I steadied myself daily to not be entirely swept away, and even so, I was lost...   My foresight said NO... I didn't listen. My heart is still yearning only now it is complicated by toxicity. 

I have been feeling less and less of this divine intervention, asking for it more and more. I do believe my supervisor was supposed to guide me this way, to be a blessing in my life. When she is right, she is right, and when she is wrong it is easy for me to let it go. She asks me to do things she knows I am capable of, and does so without guilting, knowing I am afraid. She names things that are true of me, even if I can't always hold that truth myself. Sometimes people see these things in me, and I am afraid they will use it against me, they will try to manipulate me into serving their needs. Thats what I started feeling with my last therapist, so I quit. Though she doesn't know the whole story, my supervisor wonders if that is what my parents ended up doing, and whether I consented to this contract before I was fully aware of the costs, made it my personality, etc... "It wasn't your choice." she reminds me, and I remind her that I am now conscious and continue to make it. 

But again, I often question if I was given a choice, not by my parents but by G-d. You can be a teacher, a counselor or a pastor.  I am a healer, these professions display the scope. Even when I think about writing or creating artwork, it is only to do this same work. I am not creating because I love creating, I am creating to express and heal my inner truths and ignite others to do the same. It is all healing. Thus when I do the things that do not feel healing (hurting people, being mean, speaking untruths, etc.,) I hold on to these sins, because they are abhorrent to my dharma. And what is the purpose of this healing? To show proof of the divine, to remind people of the truth. There is no one like G-d despite the momentary forgetfulness, there is no other path. 

My name is so funny. So fitting. Which came first do you think?

So it was yesterday, I was crying at a coffee shop, moving in and out of meditative states, enamored of G-d. I went for a walk, and felt that ecstatic bliss I have experienced before, the drunkenness of seeing G-d's creation, illuminating, pointing back, overwhelming in every single way. It was sprinkling, the warm air was thick with humidity, and in small moments I could see all the energy of the universe of every thing, tree, and leaf, and lake, and concrete, like the matrix revealing itself, and it would make me smile, or laugh, or become giddy, or cry in joy and awe, and then moments later I'd be doubled over in suffering, grief, pain, in the recognition of that greater reality, that these things are not separate -that joy and suffering are one, that they are inspired and planned, and miraculous. G-d would remind me that it is all.  I would look at the people passing me, or talking and be aware of just how silly are humanness is, sacred, but hilarious, and I would see people's souls and everything was in it's right place, and then I'd look down at a dog and suddenly be overwhelmed, recognizing the history and vibrancy of each individual soul. I'd be knocked on my ass, like someone had pushed me. One moment dancing light as a feather, the next a train wreck. And I'd ask G-d to be with me, and work through me, and steady me... and it would happen... minutes, or hours, I don't know how long the drunkenness had me, but suddenly a bird called out, flew from branch to branch to get closer, and I was afraid it would peck me. Go after me. Then another. And the illusion returned with my fears. I was back to this life. Hungry. Having to pee. Tired. I was shocked by the difference. The infinite endlessness abundance of awe, had returned to the scarce concrete. And I walked home wondering if it were sustainable... and whether I would even want that? 

Some part of me is so attracted to the human mundane, the profane, the intolerable. It is funny how so many therapists and healers are attracted to the worst in humanity. It's like we know on a deeper subconscious level that there really isn't any difference between the consecrating and the desecrating, that on some level they are both the human's way of seeking. 

I am too often reminded of my paraphilia. Since I was a child, as early as I remember these visions of the sacred, I also am reminded that I had desires for the debased. I wonder aloud these days if my OCD traits are immersed with this dualism. 

So I went home yesterday having had this mystical experience, and then did nothing all night to further these flights. Did nothing to honor or hone, nothing to practice... I avoided meditation, flung myself into the opposite, sought carnal pleasure, hedonism. 

The experiences remind me over and over that I am drawn and afraid. I want to dedicate myself to the heavenly, but I want to experience the earthly soil too. Cling and fantasy. 

What next? 

what is left

 

It's a Monday. It felt like a Monday today. A bit colder than its been. We had the first day of summer school. Half the kids don't want to be there. Half the staff maybe too. I was frustrated because the things I have been complaining about for weeks suddenly became apparent to the people I have been trying to forewarn. That people aren't prepared or planning ahead is one of my biggest gripes with day treatment, and it makes me not plan ahead, not rise to the occasion. Whats the point of investing if things don't get addressed? If everything is always gonna be half assed, then why try to strive. 

And on the flip side, how to hold the kids accountable. Ok, you don't want to be here, but your attitude is bringing others down and you are responsible for that choice. 

I've been listening to In the Heights a lot since I saw the movie the other night. I am one of those late to the game fanboys. But I like the musical version even better, slightly more complex and human. I listened to it 3 times yesterday at the airport in Boston. My flight was delayed. I watched the crowd gather and listened. 

Boston was good. I spent three days walking around Boston and Cambridge. People have asked what the best part was: people watching/street performers, the aquarium (though I am realizing I never go to the zoo or aquariums here), just the novelty of seeing new things. Spending the day trying to appreciate. I didn't have deep thoughts, I didn't have any revelations, I just took in a new space and reflected on it, noticed patterns, and made connections, and then kept walking until I found another new thing to think about. 

I enjoyed the days a lot. It was exciting, and there was always more stuff to see, to experience. I didn't listen to music or drown out the sensory, I tried to take it in. It got hot, I got burned. I ate a lot of treats, drank too much coffee and spent too much money, but it was good. At least during the days. 

At night I was lonely. At night I was reminded that there was a world outside my hostel of people socializing, finding their community of friends and family. I could hear them at night. I could hear the crowds and the conversations. I could see the couples holding hands. The families taking vacations together. And I was reminded that running away, traveling alone, etc. won't make me happier. It fulfills that desire for novelty, exposes me to "new" things that are really the same as the others (or will be over time). No, what I want won't be found in running to new cities and praying for a chance encounter. 

I talked to a few folks, but mostly my time was spent alone. It's still Covid after all and the hostel had restrictions. A guy on the plane asked me about my travels and I found I couldn't shut up. It was funny to be the one answering questions. That was the flight there, on the way back no one talked to me. 

I had supervision again today, and found I had very little to say at first.  We strayed along the line of therapy. She said I probably attract people who don't want to put in effort, because I don't require a lot (or rather I think I do, but the reality is that I don't), I am willing to put up with, will find ways to do the work, to appreciate. She also said I carry an energy of death, of detachment (the wrong kind of buddhism), and wondered how I came to believe I was so alone, living scarcely, when I am undoubtedly surrounded by abundance, of people who love and even like me- and she said it must be true or I wouldn't be as healthy as I appear to be. She said all of this in a non shaming way, it felt accurate. It made me wonder if she is a reader of this blog. That energy of death is something I think I've been feeling and writing about for a long time. Its the thing I am constantly pushing against, trying to appreciate, trying to find peace in, questioning, and reconciling with. 

I know I have written this before, but it keeps making me wonder if I am dying, and also if I need to have some sort of near death experience to go back to appreciating life. Like to ask for a deeper sort of help. To draw people back into community with me, rather than the "I'm fine. Thanks for the ride to the airport"  routine I seem to be a part of. But it is odd, because I do actually really appreciate the people in my life, I just don't know how to connect sometimes. Don't know how to feel part of it. 

I think touch is probably one of the biggest things. I don't touch people and people don't touch me. When I was younger I was afraid people would hurt me. Later I became afraid I would hurt other people. I think about this a lot with my niece and nephew. That I don't really trust myself around them and for no reason. Touch is essential, but I have it with very few people. 90% of the deepest connections I have had with people came from offers of touch. Lex offering people foot rubs (or hand rubs for those of us who were shy), I was astounded by how meaningful that could be. In my relationship with M, touch felt very one way. That was part of what cued me to her not being all in. That she didn't go out of her way to touch me. Maybe that's just not her love language. She appreciated being touched, so I did so. But she didn't offer. She made food for me, bought gifts I didn't really need. But the things I actually wanted, she struggled with and I denied myself that it was a big deal.  Touch equals vulnerability, and so many people in my life are vulnerable with me in other ways (emotionally-communication) that it feels like too much to be vulnerable in a physical way too. 

I really do have a lot of hang ups around bodily experiences. 

When I was in Boston and a little bit before, I kept thinking about the times I have been in a group of people and the feeling that I didn't fit, that I was faking it, or trying to fit. That I was nervous the entire time and couldn't quite enjoy the moment for what it was. And I don't know if this is true, or just the meaning I make of the situation. Certainly I have had millions of experiences where I felt close and felt like I fit. But I was thinking about the situations that I was seeing, and whether I was actually envious. Dinner on the town. Shopping with friends. I would appreciate these things, but almost from the outside, appreciate that they appreciated it. EG Do I actually like going out to a fancy dinner? No, but would I want to see others appreciate it? Yes. Would I feel like I don't fit? Yes, because I don't like the food and would feel rude. But if I was with people who didn't care? I'd enjoy it. Same with shopping. Do I actually want to buy any of the bullshit? No, do I shop and appreciate window shopping and browsing, yes (for a time). Do I appreciate that other people appreciate it? Yeah, especially if I love them. 

In Charlestown I was walking around, exhausted at this point I was doing the last thing on my list, and saw a church. I hadn't really gone inside any of the churches on the trip. I walked into this one, and from the moment I stepped in I felt awe. Felt like the aesthetic was so rich, so inspiring, and I basically wanted to cry from the beauty of it. I looked up the church St Mary's but the pictures don't do the experience justice. When I left the church, I was surprised how I'd had this moment of elation, and that things could shift so easily. I was in and out of the church in a minute. I knew I couldn't maintain the level of emotionality, so I left. I didn't want it to fade, I didn't want my intrusive thoughts to take over, I just wanted to be sad/joyful and then move on. It was like the beauty of the place grabbed my heart, and then just let go. And that was what I needed. 

The supervisor suggested EMDR. She suggested some sort of spiritual shamanic path -Soul retrieval kind of thing. No more talk therapy. She isn't sure any of it will actually be helpful because I know already, I just don't believe. She asked me what white people do, which is part of the problem right?  We go on vacation and consume other people's stuff. Maybe I need to head back to South America for an ayahuasca ceremony. 

(Though I may not be a fan of dogs) A soul is a soul. 

The Boston trip made me worried that my plan of quitting in a year and going on 5-6 week trip is really silly. I've already seen and done these things. I don't need to keep doing them, even if its good to have a few days now and then. What I need is connection, and that isn't gonna come from leaving. 

Things left undone

I need to take the garbage out and turn off the air conditioner. 

Tomorrow morning I am going to Boston. Felt like trying something new. 

To be honest, part of me needed to do something because I took a few days off work, and I kept finding myself looking at M's social media in which she and her dude are happily traveling together and every time I see an update I have a brief souring moment of grief because inevitably I had been dreaming of doing that thing with her. New apartment. New trip. New shopping spree. Meeting the family. On and on. So I needed to remind myself there was a world, and that I can have my own adventures. 

It was hard to work this week. No students, and a skeleton crew of staff, most untrained, so it meant telling them what their jobs would be... and me, trying to avoid my own work. People rearranged offices and decorated. It was fun, but I also feel like we had a week off and none of us are prepared for summer programming next week. Almost fully staffed, but still behind. 

I need to fill out my licensure paperwork. I need to move forward with some things. Work feels better than it did a few months back, but I am still not staying more than a year. I like my new coworkers. I even like training them in a little, but they are young. No one knows what they are doing. The new coordinator is a sweetheart and I look forward to working with her, but she decorated her office instead of doing her job the last couple days (eye roll) this is the kind of shit that leaves us behind all the time. No one has foresight. Thus the book is called foresight, people need to fucking learn to plan. 

Thats my commitment to myself. If I am working at Day Treatment at the end of next school year, I will quit and go traveling for the summer. Spain and Portugal likely.  Then take a new job in the fall. Thats a good plan. Maybe I will even move to a new state. I mean... not likely, but maybe? 

What does Boston have?  Well, I figure I can walk around Harvard and Cambridge area tomorrow, just see a little of the northern parts of the city, along with the china town area the hostel is in. Another day I can go to the art museum and the ports. Another day I can do all the historic stuff and a walking tour. Get back on Sunday likely in time to celebrate Father's Day. If not, we will go to Top Golf this summer... Parents are retired now, they have time to do shit. 

jealousy, travel, choices, novelty

Weird to quote a teenager, but feeling it. 

We have no students next week, so I took a few days off. I am trying to find something to do that isn't just sitting around my apartment like I have been for over a year. It's only 2 extra days along with the weekend... so it doesn't seem like much. DC? Winnipeg? Boston? Not sure what I would do in Winnipeg. Some of the museums I want to see in DC won't be open. Haven't actually looked into Boston yet. It feels like things are available, but also not (still Covid).  I also took the 1, 2, 6 of July off to go up north with family. I will probably also take some time off in August since we have another week before school starts again. 

I have this very strong feeling like I am not doing enough. Yesterday I got off work a bit later than everyone else, but returning home, I didn't have anything to do. I didn't have a friend to reach out to. Didn't have a special project I wanted to do. It was basically like any other night. I woke up this morning and experienced the same feeling. How will I fill my day? I updated my computers. I cleaned my coffee maker. Played computer games. Watched YouTube. Grocery shopped. Walked around the lake. Took a nap. Nothing extraordinary. Nothing to brag about. Life standing still. 

This week I tried a few new things or things I haven't done in a while. Top Golf with coworkers, actually enjoyed it. Shamanic journeying, not sure I enjoyed it. Finished the class I have been taking for 10 weeks. Got hit by some water balloons. Played with clay. It felt good to try a few new things, and yet, not much really seems all that appealing these days. 

I suppose I could vary up my walks, try a new lake, go to the art museum. See a movie. 

Saw some friends last week. That was nice. 

I was thinking a lot this week about how I have mostly become the "nice" person that I wanted to be... but it doesn't really matter. People continue to perceive me how they will. Anxiety continues to get in my way. I don't seek out drama, nor adventure very often. New experiences are... well, I might enjoy them or not, but they don't seem all that important and yet I am also super bored. I am sitting around the apartment wishing I could just sleep for 10 hours. Thats not really living. 

I went to the shamanic journeying thing hoping to meet people I might connect with, but instead it felt kind of creepy. Or rather, it felt like an alternative version of the stuff I do, caretaking people who have a strong NEED to be known, they get it through the classes there, people in therapy get it through paying a therapist. I don't need it in that way, though I am still considering a therapist. 

I am lonely, but I am also not interested in putting up with... which is a really difficult spot to be in. 

Not sure what the future holds. Not sure if it matters. 

Illy says sometimes when she feels what I am feeling, it means something is about to change. It definitely feels like this chapter has completed, but I am not sure what or who is calling. 

Thats what it is. 

Tonight feels like it would have been a good night to have some edibles, or mushrooms or something. Do a little journeying. I might just finish up some meditation videos on balancing the masculine and feminine.  

Thats another thing I have been considering lately... 

From a hand written journal entry I did not finish... and so I will

 6/5/21 

I see my life heading down 2 or 3 very different paths. I suppose it's always been like this. The path I am on, the path I desire, the path of death (decay). 

That last one is the easiest, so let's start there  -its simple, something happens that leads to decay, maybe it is quick -a car accident, a heart attack, maybe it is drawn out, a coma, cancer, -a life of dependency -a traumatic brain injury, -something that radically shifts  -either I die or my life becomes focused on the struggle of day to day survival. There is a lesson there. Either way, it is an option. The path of decline. 

The path I desire, goes from the path I am on, to a relationship, it might come out of the blue, someone says "hi" at a coffee shop, a romance that forms from something else, a random chat on a dating app, a work person, a church person... the relationship develops into a family, a new purpose, a passing forward -traditional in many senses but my life is no longer my own. I am tied to others indefinitely a continuation -that will ask more of me, require more of me, than just my own self... new adventures, new changes, new awareness. 

-it could happen anytime, but I won't just fall into it, won't take the easy route... I don't want to adopt (alone), I don't want a fall back or a settling.

-another way this could happen is a radical shift -eg moving to a commune, a dedication to a larger family. Starting a business, something beyond myself... not quite the desire right now, but maybe...

Lastly the path I am on. 

This path is often a tight rope (internally at least), its moving slowly forward, building confidence, serving, then taking time for myself, but not quite balanced by anything (outside of myself). Its growth but also stagnation. Anxiety binds it. its very self oriented at times - a pushing away of everything - and very outward focused in the work. Nothing wrong, slow, drama free (except internally). Ultimately "good" but at the cost of something, or at least, I fear it is. At the cost of -I dunno -but it feels like at some point I will resent it, rebel, run away, fish or worse, the same old patter. 

Maybe it is a not quite honest life, a put on hold for a time. 

Maybe it is heading in the right direction and I am impatient. 

(continued later)

It's not so much that this current path is bad, its just, what is it leading to?  Where do I want it to go and if it doesn't lead to the path of desire, and is only a continuation of what is and has been... then every few years I will fall in love and be heart broken,  every few years I will leave town for a long trip and not share it with anyone, every few years the friends I gather will head off on new paths, and meanwhile I will gather skills and work and then burn myself out with bitterness. 

Likely I will head away from working with adolescents, become an outpatient therapist, then go in to private practice, teach or do workshops on the side. A continuation of the path I've been on and one that would seem natural and good, and feel appropriate to me. 

Times will call in changes. Family and friends will move away or move on. The world will become more chaotic, or simpler. Children will become adolescents will become adults before my eyes, and my own visage will start to show its age. 

It was 99 degrees out today, so after I left the coffee shop in which I was journaling, I thought I should try to brainstorm 10 or 15 things I could do to change my life that would be semi reasonable. 

Become a yogi. Become a monk. Move to a new city, or a small town. Start a totally different career that doesn't require taking care of people (I cannot even imagine this). Buy a house -make it an art house, plant a garden. Leave the country. Start a bad relationship. Join a fitness club and take classes. Take hallucinogens and have a spiritual experience. Get a big camper or a van that I can customize and go on the road.  Start a business. Get a pet -like a snake, a giant boa (be that guy). Get a tattoo of a snake and think about it like I am shedding my old skin. Start posting art and poetry in public spaces again. Join or start a commune?

I watched the Bo Burnham special again and loved it again. I cleaned parts of my apartment and took out a bunch of trash and other stuff that was just collecting for no reason. I have all these acrylic pour art canvases that I hate and I am not sure if I should try to cover them again or just throw them out. Seems wasteful. The hobby is incredibly expensive and wasteful. My apartment is still messy and disorganized. I could spend tomorrow or later tonight cleaning it up... Maybe. It just feels like some things will never have their right place, because they need to be out and accessible.  My desk for instance is covered with random things I want within reach. Pills and vitamins. Writing utensils. Candles. A checkbook. A few post its. Hand lotion. Incense. There is candy and cashews within reach. There are tarot cards and a back massager in reach. 

But there are also things I don't know where to stow away, the keyboard my dad brought over that I have barely touched. The collection of masks I pull from each day (need like a bin for them). The art supplies that don't fit in the plastic contraption that holds art supplies...

I watched some horoscope videos tonight and the guy basically said "you're on the right path" "you feel like you should have been rewarded by now" "the universe is aware that it owes you" "stay on the path, but see it in a different way" and other affirming words. I thought it was funny that I was journaling about paths, and then this reading basically said the same thing -which is why I chose to rewrite it into this post.  I reached out to some potential therapists. I finally bought groceries and made some food. I displayed some art in my apartment. I watched a lot of YouTube.

for a day that was nearly 100 degrees, and in which I woke up late and didn't coffee till noon, it was surprisingly productive. Maybe this is a good path and I can stop questioning every little thing I do. 

or not.