A cask filled with all the emotions.

Yesterday we learned that the United States invaded and kidnapped the president of Venezuela, apparently without informing Congress, and without a plan in place for how to support or manage the aftermath. The cabinet and the president seem to disagree on the plans going forward, and the military certainly isn't able to jump in and structure the government for them... it seems like they are hoping the Vice President of the country will cave and restructure -meaning allow american oil companies back in... and that's about it. Now small threats have been renewed against Cuba, Mexico, Panama, Greenland. 

I think more disturbing than US intervention* which happens all the time, is this dismantling of norms and aspirations. No longer do we even put the mask of democracy or freedom, or even free markets on the banner. The rumors are that the president decided to strike when he saw the president of venezuela dancing in a video. No one is allowed to be happy, feel safe or stable... 

Anyway I wrestled with it a bunch yesterday and then last night I wrote up a big rant, and didn't post it. This morning I struggled to not wrestle again... I went to church and cried throughout. Cried for us, cried for them, cried for a world that should have been around the corner, but now will be another hundred years out. 

I found myself so angry in church. So angry, rage... at this. Like, whats the point?   And that was the question of the day... the church is wrestling with what are we doing?  the country is wrestling with it... I am wrestling with it.  Life can just keep going on, but are we doing anything about it?

This morning or last night, I was struggling with the fact that I am so angry, and cynical... but my cynicism doesn't help. I mean, what's the difference between this and my book? I wrote a story 10 years ago about how we would go to war with Iran, with Cuba, with Venezuela and Brazil. How China would attack us, and because we had idiots in charge, we'd fire back without thinking of the consequences... and we'd doom ourselves and half the world... all within a few years. 

I am not saying that is what is happening, but the ridiculous mess of it... the lack of cohesive thought, planning, morality, integrity of any kind...

In my book we were attacked, so we struck back... but in this world, the president is snubbed or laughed at and breaks international law and all norms... and then brags about  how we are gonna just "take over the country."   What is that?

This isn't a well thought out essay, I've just been avoiding doing anything today because I am not sure how to face any of it yet. My mind is going to the worst case scenarios, and the violence and futility of it all... and then I alternate between that and distraction and sugar, because...

I am so angry at the people of my own country for being stupid... for choosing this, for not seeing that empowering immoral men, leads to immorality. Like, some things are just so obvious. But even more I am realizing that I am mad at them for not believing we deserve better and fighting for it. 

The richest, most powerful country in the history of the world doesn't guarantee anything for its citizens, not stable housing, not healthcare, not education, not the right to vote, not the right to your own body, nothing... we will not choose to keep you safe, or ourselves safe, or give anything to ensure your future or our own. The greed and selfishness is soooo evil. And then you think about how this country came to be and its like... well yeah of course. 

But its horrendous. But my cynicism doesn't help. My condemnation. Even my lament.  

Where is the vision? Where is the imagination? Where is the hope?

The musician leading church lately played this version (I think). <iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/La4vDsI3350?si=F9Kn22_Sdrvti8dV" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe>

I built this beautiful lego flower set yesterday. It's lovely. There are amazing people doing amazing work out there. I don't know bad people... I know people who are struggling and make poor decisions. So why does it collectively amount to a shit show, instead of beloved community?

Where do we turn the corner, what do we shoot for, how do we resist, and create beauty and art, and safety, and healing, and learning? 

It's hard for me not to go into the language of religion in these moments... it feels like evil is winning. REPENT all ye sinners! I mean... that's what it feels like. 

I want to be in a place where I can write a poem or a story or a lecture that says "hey, you deserve better... we deserve better."  But I feel so sad and angry right now, that I am barely typing what I am. 

At church they read this poem or essay about how queer people can't expect hope, or even to survive, but must live into the reality that we exist, that we are here, that we will always be here, and so our lives and our love are worth fighting for anyway. Sure you'll be tortured and burned at the stake, but what other choice is there? And it was soooooo depressing. And also true. What other choice do we have, we are not different than the generations that lived under empire before us. We were never different, we were just deluded. Maybe now we can name what is, and build from the rubble when we burn it all down. 

In my book, the people need a rallying point, a savior type or a villain to motivate them to take control, or make something of themselves. 

I dunno.

I watched a tarot video today that said I would meet someone soon, who was either haunted by or had the same muse that motivated them. Said I would hate the people around them. Said people would question why I was with them, but that it would make sense on a soul level, like it was destined. The last few days I have been feeling so very lonely, and also so very averse to seeing people. Like thanks for being you, now leave me alone unless you can rescue me or save me from my misery. 

My birthday is coming up and my parents are asking when we can celebrate! and I am like... ughh. Can't we just skip ahead? Its hard to live into the day, or the moment, or the dance, or the song, or the celebration... I am feeling very weighed down by the heaviness of it all. 

And I know that is a choice... I could easily ignore it, distract from it, chase tail, use drugs, run away, become reactive and righteous... be gluttonous *even more so than I am, or carve pieces of me away... but I am trying to sit with it... at least a bit and I am exhausted. 

Tomorrow I only have two clients. I think this week should be fairly easy... 

Dream

 I woke up late because apparently I had only set one alarm.

I have the time though... and I was planning on driving anyway. 

Its snowing and looks windy as hell.

In the dream at first, I was picking up a neighbor who had two kids. I had apparently put out some sort of social media post about meeting neighbors... and going to the local community center. We went. I hadn't been before but because I was hosting, they were assuming I knew the place, knew the plan. 

We got to the adult pool which was in a different section of the community center. It was full of people. People I didn't know. The guy I was with did, but almost immediately he told me this isn't the area for the kids... he went off and met up with a few people he knew. I looked around and saw no one, all the adults seemed occupied. I went and hung out with his kids to make sure they were ok. 

They were confident kids. The kind that know everything (EG my niece and nephews). That point out that they know stuff. I let them lead me to the kid pool... or at least that's what I thought we were doing. Instead they led me through the whole community center. At some point they turned into M's kids, even though it wasn't them, I knew she was these kid's mother. 

We ate a lunch they had packed, and my Dad and Colleen were there, and maybe someone else. I got in an argument with Colleen she started about politics. The kids were getting bored and started acting up. I felt responsible for their safety, their wellbeing, their lunch bags that needed to be cleaned out. 

I wondered where their mom was, why she wasn't worried about where they were -when clearly a lot of this had been impromptu and we were running late. I wasn't even sure she knew I had them. 

At one point I pulled the girl in and taught her how to say- "I'm bored and want to leave the table." Like reenacted it, rather than allowing her to be disruptive. She nodded, but I am not sure she cared. 

The kids started wandering around outside the community center, not far from a highway. I was trying to do the dishes very fast so as to leave the community center room in somewhat clean shape. My Dad was asking me about the area... and I was a little frustrated that no one was watching the kids. They knew everything of course, but didn't they still need supervision?

Sometimes the sink would start to get too full and threaten to overflow... I worried I was clogging the drain. 

It felt like a dream in which I was doing everything wrong, and knew it, mistake after mistake, many pointed out to me, some old traps I fell into and felt self-righteous about, but not helpful, me trying to be the adult and wondering why no one was taking responsibility, but at the same time, nothing was on fire. There was no actual danger. Everyone else felt safe -though maybe also restless. 

Like one of those teaching dreams where I lose "control" over the classroom, but really its just a bunch of bored/restless kids. 

I woke up doubting a lot of the decisions I made yesterday at work. Wondering why I wasn't more curious, wondering why I felt like I knew better than others. Its a place to repair. Its a place to trust the process. Its a place to forgive myself for not being perfect. Nothing is on fire. 

Masks Off

This is some brilliant song writing. As someone said in the comments, the words come tumbling out and you realize how much you've been holding back

We don't have to take our clothes off

The title is in reference to the song, I was just listening to a guitar cover of it. I know nothing about the song or the original artist. I just looked him up, he died at 39 years old. 

I am turning 42 soon.  (This is a note from like 25 minutes later- I was working out, and wearing lots of layers today -and walked to work in the freezing cold, but I can smell my own BO, and that almost never happens to me... so its weird, and keeps surprising me throughout this whole journaling experience). 

Which also means, it's nearly the end of 2025. I am working this week, though I don't really have anything planned so I don't have another excuse to not write... but just in case, figured I'd do some journaling tonight. 

What have I done in 2025?  What has this year contained... Further separating from E -especially at the beginning of the year when she stopped talking to me for like 3-4 months. Getting my own place. Leaving my job to start a business. Moving both to St. Paul. Seeing friends. Connecting with family. Cousin's kids graduation. Ali's wedding. Not a lot of travel -maybe a trip up north? One brief visit to Wisconsin? One twins game. A few old people concerts (orchestras/choirs). A few plays at the Guthrie and the Orpheum. Lots and lots of protests and marches, and a few community org meetings. A tarot reading just about every day.  Physical therapy. Mental health therapy. Tai Chi. That sing along thing.  Read some books, reread some books. Did some art. Did some writing. Went to a variety of coffee shops. Tried to do a touch of organizing at work. Joined a consultation group. Started supervising again. Basically  shaved my head about two months ago... its growing out well. Started playing guitar again (I was never even a beginner really, but I have played about 10 hours this month and at this rate, in 100 years I will be a decent guitar player). Went in the pool, the hot tub, drank coffee, used the gym, heated underground garage (the amenities I pay a fortune for). Went to church a lot, reconnected with old friends on multiple occasions (Morris and LNAS folks). Explored some new parks in the twin cities and surrounding areas. 

In general it has been a good year, and yet, I am never quite satisfied am I?  I mean, there is part of me that is not satisfied, and even though I can practice my gratitude and count my blessings and say my prayers every day... well, I still have a hard time imagining things carrying on this way without it becoming a little stale. 

That being said, in many ways, I feel the most mentally confident and calm - than I probably ever have in my life. There are still many moments (sometimes even a day or two), where I am overwhelmed or anxious, or feel like a loser, but it isn't my consistent state.  When I go there I don't tend to dwell or convince myself of anything. it is easy to laugh at myself, even if I am still wanting to be good, or be seen as good. I can notice and laugh, or talk myself down from the ledge very easily. I am anxious, but I notice my anxiety, I take care of myself, I tend to my own needs. But I also avoid and distract quite a bit. 

I've been taking a somatic class online. It's been interesting, makes me question how much I feel my feelings, rather than just intellectualize them.  I've been wrestling with my faith, my values and my role in the world. I've been wondering about my attachments, and if I am throwing away a good thing, or just moving onto something that suits me more (when and where I do not know). 

Those are basically the three questions I've been wrestling with behind the curtains of my cool demeanor. I mean, I am also worried about the business and money, and all my normal shit...but so far its working ok. I am not making bank, I am not going broke. I think I am making on average about 6500 -7k a month (total expenses (rent, insurance, bills, taxes, etc.) being at least 6k-meaning I am not really saving much), but its really hard to tell because I am still sometimes getting checks from sept or oct... and with the insurance and medicare changes, its very possible that my business takes a hit in the next few months. But maybe that is a good change, maybe I will get new fresh clients who want to pay more or something. Also, I am pretty certain everyone will be taking a hit in the next 6 months. I don't know how we would avoid a recession right now... we are likely already in one. 

Anyway I suppose to add to my three things, we also have the uncertainty. 

But lets go a little further...

In some ways, I know that I am very in touch with my feelings. I know that I can cry on a dime. I know I can practice gratitude and bring up a million things I am grateful for. I know that I can be present with others. I know that some things make me furious, and other things annoy me. I know that I am still very afraid of a lot of things, and that it plays into my trust issues and difficulties in relationships. I am aware of my feelings for the most part. But I don't always accept them, certainly don't always express them, and when I do, it's often intellectualized (like what i am doing right now). What does it feel like to sit with my uncertainty, my fear, my anger?  Sometimes I do... most often I recognize it, name it, move on from it. Often that is because I distrust that I will get the thing that will "solve it."  But sometimes, that also keeps me from accepting the feeling as it is... maybe there is no solution, but can I be present and feel my feelings anyway?  

Somatic therapy is also funny. Most of my clients hate when I bring it to their bodies. I probably would get anxious with that language too... but generally I am very aware of my feelings and what not in my body even if I am avoiding them. I can check in, I can recall, I can make myself feel things in my body. I notice how I feel in sessions, and sometimes name it for others to see if they are feeling the same. Its something I realized is a helpful tool as long as I don't personalize it. As long as I let it out...

But in my relationships in my own life?  I dunno... E was really good at calling me out on not sharing my feelings. I am anxiously attached (and then become avoidant). I spend so much time thinking about and worrying about the other person that I am not always sure what I am feeling, and even more, whether I would be willing and able to express it even if it were true. It gets me in trouble. I start to become resentful, start to feel entitled, become controlling and judgmental. All ways of being to protect myself from feelings... eeeeewwwwww.  But when I am by myself again, allowed to think and feel my own thoughts and feelings. I usually do. Just not with people. Not sure how they will respond. Can't watch their faces or body language or I lose my own. 

Anyway... I suppose I can stay with this connection topic- skip to the last thing then and come back to the meaning/purpose thing. 

So E has made a few gestures to come toward me. Started going to my church again. Reaches out. Doesn't ask too much, but still connects. Makes it clear she cares about me. And I have this strong guard around her. I don't look at her much. I don't reach out to touch her. I am nervous, but its not a giddy nervousness, but also not disgust or true aversion. It's guarded. 

Sometimes after I hang out with her, I wonder why I wouldn't get back together with her.  I am impressed by the changes she has made, the ways she is choosing to live her life, her fearless spirit. I enjoy her company, feel good when I am around her, feel loved. So why am I guarded? 

All last week (holidays), I felt like I was being bad by being distant. We texted a few times, but I didn't invite her to my family's and I didn't invite her over. I kept a boundary in place because I was afraid I'd be leading her on if I did any of those things... and yet, the whole time I missed her. Thought about her. Thought about our past holidays together, how we got into arguments, how we dealt with family drama... How we managed the stressful time, even though it was stressful. And I missed having a partner to do holidays with. 

So when we hung out on Saturday... I really enjoyed catching up, reconnecting. Petting Simba for a minute. Why leave? but then I also made a comment, and we talked about it, and discussed how at this point I am still not wanting to get back with her, and her getting closer will probably lead to a great deal of awkwardness later... and though it was uncomfortable and true... I felt bad, but also felt relieved that she would give me the space and acknowledge my boundaries. So then yesterday *sunday I spent the day alone because it was a snow storm. And I got lots accomplished, and tucked myself into bed too early and then woke up and couldn't get back to sleep and I felt lonely all night, and wondered why I was giving up something that was so meaningful to me.  Why would you give up your best friend?  Won't it break your heart if you have to give her up? Won't it make you heartbroken to see her in another relationship (whether she is happy or even worse, unhappy?) Don't you want to cling and keep the door open and not move forward with your life, just in case?   Aren't you still loyal to her, even when you're distancing, wondering how to be good to her from a far? Doesn't she challenge you in a different way? Don't you love her spirit? Don't you want to keep that around you forever? 

And I have done this before. Stayed hung up. Got caught in drama. Got caught in dependence. Got stuck in what is comforting, but not always right for me. 

It was easier today, to remind myself that there were reasons we broke up. That I was growing resentful. That I had my trust broken multiple times. That I couldn't rely on her for a lot of things, even if I could rely on her for others. But it's hard to remind myself of that. Hard to look for evidence against a thing... but should I trust my guardedness? Or ask for my heart to stretch again?

Should I put some distance between us, and go out seeking a new heart, a more aligned embrace? 

I want to imagine that there is some perfect person for me... but I worry that is more of my anxious/avoidance. Not that the person is perfect, but that they will have some of the traits I have loved in others, and some of the challenges that I can deal with, that don't feel like triggers/red flags. 

I want to find someone who I feel safe with in multiple ways.  But it is hard. I still love the girl, still want the world for her, I just don't know if I can be the one to offer it... you know?

So along with my quest for a new love while I don't know what to do with this old heart... 

There is also the third thing. I am naming that faith is part of this because for me, 'playing the role of caretaker, teacher, therapist, peacemaker, sage, whatever... has often been an expression of my faith and values. But I am noticing that it doesn't feel like enough lately. Like, it's not enough to just do this job -maybe because the whole world is on fire and I am a humming bird dropping tiny beaks full of water on the fire (all I can do). Maybe because I know there are limits to therapy now, just like at one time I learned there are limits to teaching.  

Part of this is why I was considering the whole "spiritual direction" thing. Wanting to have a new set of skills or a new role that would renew my sense of purpose. The work is still very meaningful, but I am not sure I feel purposeful anymore. Like, I could easily be replaced (is that it?) or maybe my spirit is just grieving still. Maybe I feel like I lost some of the purpose when E and I broke up, or the steady trajectory toward the idea that I may never have children. It's like... ok then the day to day can feel meaningful, but what's the point?  Where is life headed? Is there any direction, because the world heaps misery on us... and what are we doing here?  

I suppose in my faith, I find some meanings in suffering, in appreciating, in growing through difficulties. I didn't enjoy my body, didn't take care of it, didn't pay attention to it. I let my body decay and injured myself. Then I went to multiple doctors, a chiropractor and several physical therapists just to get me back to where I was before... but now I am trying to appreciate my body because I know if I don't I will suffer more -not just pain, but the inability to do the things I want to do. I am still struggling with my weight... overeating, but I feel like I am physically growing stronger even if my belly is also. It is slow, and it requires consistency and I am not always great at that....but I have been doing spanish for like 2 years now, and playing guitar this month. So maybe I can keep adding slowly and consistently. 

But back to my purpose. I am questioning.  I used to think it was my job to take care of people. What if that's not the case?  I used to think it was ok to self sacrifice and life has taught me that is not actually serving you or the other person -though I still suck at it.  I used to think I could change the world, educate or nourish or heal the world... I just don't have that kind of hubris anymore. I still dream about writing a novel, publishing poetry, maybe writing a song or two... but I don't seem to put much effort into these dreams... I have found myself working, and focusing on work. 

But if I were gonna die in the next year for certain, I'd probably want to put more time into connecting with others AND writing. The problem is that my writing often feels like it takes up too much of my mental and emotional energy. Work requires the same. So... I have sacrificed the one for the other. I don't really like this arrangement. Last night at about 1 or 2 am, I thought -well I am turning 42, and in a few years I will be 45. I started this novel back when I was 29-30-31 ((Feb 2014 the idea from RYW- but according to the note, you'd been thinking about it for months- thoughts for the first year or two, scattered notes, ideas, stories in your mind while you traveled, 31-32 it was all out writing.) So maybe I shoot for 45 to publish the novel? 

Can I maintain work, relationships, hobbies, self care, AND write and edit a novel? 

Only if I start putting some effort into it -and probably get rid of some of my distractions. 

I dunno... seems like a more reasonable goal than saying "when I get around to it..." and then never picking it up again. Maybe like guitar, it will just be an hour or two total per week... finish in 100 years, but feel more confident because you can easily make 5 or 6 chords without thinking too hard. 

Ok. No kids or gf, just a book and then you die?

I got the tower in my tarot today. Both sets of parents are out of town. Multiple clients are suicidal. There was a snow storm. E's health still worries me. Some of my friends have depression.  My health isn't exactly top notch. and lately even though I am not dwelling on it, I just keep feeling like something big is gonna shake me up in a way that I don't appreciate, but that I will have to deal with at some point... you know?  I have a million little worries that turn into day dreams, that turn into "problem solving" that won't actually help. Maybe its like the outside world feels uncertain and cruel right now, and I am waiting for it to hit me?  Or maybe my tower moment is realizing that if I want things to happen in my life, I have to actually take responsibility and make them happen? 

Could be that simple right? right?

I miss traveling and reminding myself that anything is possible. 

I have to work this week. Gotta pay the bills. Maybe this summer I will go on a trip or something

Humming

 At a concert the other day my mom told me she used to find me conducting music in my room. I still do. 

I also used to hum all the time.  

When I was really little, someone must have played this song somewhere and it stayed in my head for years. I’d hum it when no one was around. I didn’t know what song it was. Didn’t know anything about it except it sounded Russian to me. Maybe in a past life I was Russian or something. Anyway… decades without knowing what the song was. Then I randomly hummed it into google and found it.  

https://youtu.be/4kfQNPldvAg

a child is born

 No THC rootbeer for me tonight. 

Its nearly 11.  

I went to a super liberal Lutheran church tonight that my parents go to. 

I've been there before many times, but its been awhile. It was really weird to me, how they have changed so much of the service to fit their values etc., but still keep certain parts, and still share the same stories, and the same songs. It reminded me that I am not a Christian by faith anymore, even if I am by culture. 

And that struck me in a really weird way, because I found myself nostalgic for this past version of myself that believed. I talked to my Mom and Grant about it, and texted E about it a little. 

When I was a kid, I was a really Christian kid, internally at least. I didn't take the Lord's name in vain even when I began swearing, I went to church frequently. I believed the stories, and sang the songs and prayed often. I read a children's bible at night. I had dreams and nightmares about the bible. I drew pictures of bible scenes, wrote prayers and songs in my head. My first cds were Jesus Christ Superstar and Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, not long after - Godspell. I had cds of Christian camp songs, I had tapes of sermons. I requested to watch the Ten Commandments and Jesus movies when I was sick. I went to youth programs here and away. Mission Trips.  Church camp. I went to my Mom's church, I went to my Dad's church sometimes, I went to my Grandpa's church. There were several times when I 'ran away' or got upset and I went to church because it was a space to commune with G-d. I was a really Christian kid. Those were all pretty outward things. 

Internally I believed these stories and songs, I believed them concretely, and then when that changed, I wrestled with them absolutely all the time, to believe to be a person of faith, to fit into these beliefs even when I no longer believed everything the church taught. There was a war in my heart, my soul, and absolutely my mind... and it said that I needed to be good, to be a believer, to have my soul redeemed because I was sinful. I was a monster. I was so easily tempted by evil... and so, stories about Jesus... were really powerful, not because metaphorically or symbolically he pointed the way to a better life, or to freedom, or relief,  but because he was salvation.  Because I believed, wrestled myself into belief, struggled and overcame in my belief and through his grace.  And it was painful, and scary, and sad, and I was frequently a mess of a person struggling with guilt and shame... but it was an equation easily satisfied by my faith, which -I still struggle to question. I mean, I believe in something... its just not that story of G-d coming to earth to free us of the condemnation he had previously pronounced. 

I love elements of the story, I love the idea that if G-d were to come down from his high and mighty, he would upend the story and do it through the lowliest of us... the poor unwed mother, refugee, oppressed by empire... Emmanuel sure, I am with that. The reminder that our faith calls us to serve all, that we can see G-d in the face of another, all of that.  But this idea of sin and redemption... why...

But tonight in church, I missed that part of me. I missed the part of me that could believe these ridiculous stories, and sing these absurd songs, and not criticize or question, or know better...  I missed that part of me that believed it, knew it absolutely to be true, 

missed it, because and it gave me concrete meaning and purpose not just abstract values and complexities, and uncertainty.  

I missed my certainty, and even when I wasn't certain, my belief that someone higher than me knew better, and all I had to do was wrestle myself into submission to his will. 

It's weird to feel free of that shame and fear, and still miss it.  

My faith seems so much bigger now, so much more all encompassing, so much more grand and mysterious, creative, expansive, awe filled... and yet I dunno, there is something powerful about the story of sin and redemption, it's so neat. 

It's funny because even though I have wrestled with this awareness on and off, I am reminded of Esfegione, The Lord's Beloved... and how he wrestles with this same exact story... going from childhood awe and awful adoration, to knowing better, and still wanting his God to love him. (This is from my book).  It's almost like my characters are parts of me... go figure. 

It's hard for me to comprehend how other people believe still.... unless they believe it like they believe in Santa Claus... like everyone shares it with a wink. 

Anyway. 

Christmas Eve

 

It is a Wednesday. Feels kind of odd to have the holidays midweek. I decided to take three days off total for a 5-day weekend. Not doing much, with the exception of a couple of family events. I slept in a bit, so I have that lingering migraine that I have pushed away with Excedrin, but probably I'll be slightly irritable. So far today I've done some laundry, some Spanish, some exercise. Still need to wrap some gifts. Still need to spend a few minutes at least with the guitar. 

I am not sure why it's so hard to be present, to be thoughtful, to feel homey. My apartment feels cluttered with too much stuff and no right place to put it. Some of it is temporary and will be given away, only to be replaced by more stuff in the next few days. We are keeping it relatively small this year. Between our lives -already full of consumer goods and the prices these days... Just doesn't make a lot of sense. 

I had a dream last night that I was hanging out with Don, and asking him how it felt to be part of their family. Asked him if things were ok, wanted some inside dirt, but also just to remind them I really did care. It was an awkward dream. I didn't feel I had the right, but also didn't feel like I needed to run away. 

For some reason I've been thinking about Becky a lot lately, about the time we went to her dad's for Christmas, about meeting up with her in York when she was married, about attending her wedding. Maybe because it was her birthday a few weeks back. Maybe because I watched a video where someone was in Leeds (which I visited on that same trip). I am not sure why I was thinking of her dad, he was barely a part of her life with the exception of a scary shadow in the background. It was a very awkward visit. She was uncomfortable the whole time, I was anxious as always. Her dad seemed to be trying his best but there was no relationship there. 

In some of these memories and dreams, I had so much of my heart invested, even if outwardly I seemed nonchalant or cold. I remember one time with Becky -she thought she had seen her abusive ex in a crowd, and I spent hours on edge and fuming and fantasizing about confronting him. I have a fantastical anger in me... it's odd. Sometimes it catches me by surprise. I was at McDonalds last night and a group of teens were there and for some reason I felt on edge and wondered how I'd respond if they were trying to show off. Imagining confrontation.  I must be angry about something I guess. 

What of this heart that imagines things, swells with love, with anger, with hurt, with fear... and then years later, I haven't talked to this person. Is she a stranger now?

I sent a few messages back and forth with Eduardo (J) a few nights ago. She is back in Perth for a few weeks... she seemed to have nothing to say to me, but asked questions, but didn't seem to want answers. Maybe she was busy. 6 months or so ago, we fell out of contact, and I felt a deep loss and worry. Then when we started chatting again, it felt kind of like strangers giving updates while running in different directions. Maybe it is time to let go? 

I keep thinking that I need to journal and figure out what I want to do next with my life... because even though I have the business up and running, it isn't meaningful -doesn't feel like it's going anywhere. What direction am I heading?  If life continues this way, is it ok?  I feel like I am fine, but is that all I want?   This morning in the gym an older guy, whose name is also mike, did a 15–20-minute workout. He's in retirement, audits classes at the University a mile or two down the street, volunteers in local organizations, is very bright, thoughtful, political. But I wondered if he had anywhere to go today or tomorrow. Maybe he doesn't celebrate... I know he moved to the cities a few years ago. (I learned all of this the first time I met him at a meet and greet in sept), but anyway... it made me wonder -is this my future?  Mike on the treadmill for 15 minutes, Mike doing a few lifts for a couple minutes... Mike with nowhere to go on the holidays because he doesn't have a family nearby?

And on some level, I was answering, that's not even the future -that's the present.  I mean, I have parents houses to go to. In the future will I stop by James' place? Friends?

A part of me wants to reach out to E. Ask her to hang out tomorrow morning. Go to church with her tonight. But at the same time there is another part of me saying don't rebuild a relationship you don't intend to have... you're leading her on.  She has started to go to First Universalist. I don't mind spending the time with her, but I don't see a future with her anymore, so it feels weird to seek her out for comfort or closeness in various ways.  She said she isn't doing Christmas with her family, maybe that is why I am having dreams about them. She said it feels empowering, but in my head I hear her saying "will you invite me to yours?" even though she isn't asking that aloud. 

See my messy, cluttered heart? 

Or is it just my mind that plays out these games.  Tonight and tomorrow will be fine. I'll spend time with family, and watch their kids play, and open presents, and eat food. I don't think I'll feel much of the 'christmas feeling.' It won't be magic. I'll probably come home a mix of glad to be away, and lonely. I'll consider having a THC drink. I'll prepare for the next day. 

My life is made up of lists and distractions. 5-6 mall tasks, never ask too much of myself. Not really contributing much to anybody else, because I made the mistake of trying to dedicate my life to taking care of others when that wasn't the key to a healthy relationship...  kna mean?

I feel like I am in a waiting space. Something I was watching reminded me that if you buy into that idea you're kind of creating the resistance to change... but I am having a hard time not experiencing it as waiting, slowly building skills, rebuilding foundations, trying in some ways to maintain my body, -while in other ways poisoning it. biding my time *for what?  waiting to be plucked from the crowd, to be chosen, to be sparked, like a car engine being jumped, revved up by something new. 

It would be nice to feel more creative... to write a poem, or make a piece of art I actually admired. I have not felt up to it. But its funny how the little things like playing guitar each day or doing spanish each day have built up my confidence that I can do things at all. I mean I will never be amazing at either, but I no longer believe I am doomed to suck so bad I can't try. I guess there is a difference that way. I can memorize chords at least. I can play around and think *wait that sounds like something... and even if I don't really know how to play any songs, I can play parts of songs and that is a start. 

I've been reading Andrea Gibson and its beautiful. She (they? cant remember), has a few stirring poems that make me cry. She has this one poem called "Good Grief" that is so simple: "Let your heart break, so your spirit doesn't"    feels like good advice. It comes to mind sometimes randomly. I probably need to let my heart break a few more times. I probably need to invite in a life that moves me, compels me, shifts me into new versions of myself, so that I can experience the full weight and capacity of whatever this life is... but how and why, and where do you let it in? 

I seem to be letting it in through my role and profession. I seem to be collecting the downtrodden, maybe even the ones who won't be able to pay their bills. Maybe I am doing it all wrong, doing it my old way... but really it just feels like I am being true to myself, and admiring others who are true to themselves in whatever capacity they are able to. I don't feel taken advantage of. I don't feel like I am limited in my ability or capacity -other than by what I have chosen. I am not bitter most of the time. 

But what next? J made a joke that I am always like that... trying to figure out what I am doing with my life. Like that is my mode. Maybe it is. Maybe I should just accept that what I am doing is writing on a 20 yr old blog to myself. 

Maybe I should try to recall memories on here, catalog a life, a past. Maybe I should be writing essays, here is the thesis, here is my evidence, here is my call to you. Maybe I should be using this space to be more creative, only write with germanic sounding words, latin sounding the next. Alliteration and rhyme? Stories only. 

Do I even have a story to tell? What have I done that is a story lately? I ran to the mall, I went to Menards, I visited a pet store with 2 giant tortoises. I left all of these places without anyone knowing me, and without knowing anyone. I now know there are two giant tortoises and a handful of really large snakes within a few blocks of my home, that is good to know, I guess. 

I saw or at least talked to 10 clients and a supervisee this week. Had some inspiring convos. Had some boring ones. Had some sad ones. Had some in which I felt unsure what to do, had some in which I felt like life would work out anyway... 

Was reminded me of the Duluth trip with M.  Was reminded of going to the McDonalds in Sao Paulo (the most racially diverse place I've ever been). Was reminded of listening to rock and punk music and being so angry at the world, and the ones who said I accept you anyway. Was reminded many many times of being in My Grandpa's church, journaling in the pews, the smell of incense, the sadness in the air, the quiet of those nights... the feeling like Christmas is as much an experience of deep grief and sorrow and questioning as it is a celebration... maybe even more so than celebration. 

On this night a child was born under threat, destined to be torn apart on your behalf, you ungrateful... I dare you to cherish him, to see him in your neighbor, your enemy, your own heart.

It reminds me how deeply I felt and took in these stories when I was little. How I knew things to be true... felt them so deeply. Felt them beyond words or logic... and now?  What do I know?  My universe has expanded soooooo greatly, and I am less sure than ever of anything except that it is our job to say yes to it.... despite all of our habits of saying no. 

Maybe I am just confused. Maybe my heart is messy. Maybe I am sad today like I am every christmas. 

Middle of the night.

I have this desire to create something beautiful, meaningful, lasting… instead I watch YouTube or worse even, reels on Instagram. 

Vic and Katrina did this little art print workshop and it was really beautiful and inspiring… and it would be nice to just have the capacity to welcome… to be open. To give. I’m wound up playing my role too much. 

I haven’t read the book I was reading in a week. 

Last week I played guitar twice, I’m determined this week to play at least 15 minutes every day. Tonight I played for thirty, but only after laying in bed for like 4 hours in and out of sleep. 

I did not do the dishes, sweep or vacuum, wash the countertops… these are things I should do. 

I’m keeping up with my Spanish, so I know that small increments consistently matter. 

I’m keeping up with my work, though there are a few places I’ve fallen behind -namely Medicare and a call to Cigna. I have between 15-20 clients every week. It’s hard to know whether that is paying the bills. I’m behind on a credit card, but I also know it was the equivalent of the charitable donations I gave for give to the max day, so basically I was trying to live abundantly. I think I have enough saved for taxes, but who knows. I am working two days next week, and all five the following week, any appointment is making cash even if it’s 1-2 a day, that’s a few hundred coming in. 

I feel like I am managing socially, but not that active. I don’t feel like I’m a great friend to every body. But I’m still trying to say yes when people reach out. 

I bought a happy lamp I haven’t used yet. I feel like I’m out of counter space. 

I am not happy with my weight and the amount I crave sugar and desserts. I feel like my body is starting to work again, -

I’m going to the gym at least twice a week. Walking, tiny amounts of lifting… but I’m sure I’m not offsetting the amount I’m eating. The cravings are sooooo strong. Makes me want to take one of those shots, but I know they mess with your metabolism - so probably not a good idea. 

I’m running into a gray zone… I feel like I want to be dating someone, but I’m still spending a lot of time with E. And that’s probably not helpful to future prospects. It isn’t the same as it used to be. Sometimes I don’t even respond to her texts, as in, I let the conversation die, don’t follow up to every open door- etc. but it’s still nice to hear from her, and I still care a lot. Still worry. 

But how do I open the door to someone new? Not that there is anyone I’m meeting or anything, but even if there was…

I need to get a massage, but it’s so damn cold out I feel like my body would tighten up immediately after and defeat the purpose. 

This is apparently just a list of complaints and updates on the day to day.  Life feels ok. There is probably a lot I’m avoiding. I’m trying to be healthy and make slow progress towards my goals, but I feel out of balance some times. The SAD is not helping. Some days I feel terrrible and other days just fine. I feel anxious a lot for no reason,feel like I’m behind, when everything is just fine. Like all weekend I felt like I was procrastinating my work. Like it was looming over my head, and then today I just caught up in between sessions. I didn’t even have to do any over the weekend. Got it all done. This week is a light week for work, next week will be too obvi. So what do I want to spend my time doing? And how do I get out of this mindset that there isn’t enough to go around? 

I keep feeling like something drastic is gonna happen, and part of me wants that, something to launch me into the next chapter. This chapter is slow, it’s rebuilding, it’s creating a structure and a platform, but for what?

The news everyday I so upsetting. It’s weird to have a high standard of living in a country that clearly is falling apart. 

I guess I should be grateful for what I have. I did not win the lottery the other day… and that’s probably for the best. 

Well I should probably go to bed. 

The world feels heavy

I’m not sure what to say exactly other than the title. I feel very blessed and grateful to have opportunities and to have such wonderful people in my life, to be close to friends and family, to have people who have been with me for decades or just days, but who are sooo beautiful and amazing. I have resources and meaningful work, I have the opportunity to be creative, or take care of myself, or veg out and indulge in nothingness, whatever I can choose… but damn the world feels so heavy right now.  So much grief, sorrow, suffering and though some of it is natural, it’s made all the worse by the fact that so much of it is humans choosing this. 

There are people weighing on my heart, and I don’t really even feel like I can say the things I mean… I live my life so afraid to be fully present, so afraid that something might happen or I won’t be able to respond, or I’ll be taken advantage of  or whatever… I’m not sure what will change that, but despite my actions and stoic responses, I’m a little guy with a very big very full heart, that breaks routinely. And lately it is heavy.

This week is gonna feel busy till Friday. I hope to make some meaningful connections or progress on things, and also just keep my head above the water.  

I dunno.