Not sure who I should talk to

I asked for an extra appointment and my therapist can’t get me in.  I started writing to a friend, and decided not to. This is part of my issue eh. 

 Hope this is ok. I’m trying not to draw lines in my family… Got in a fight with my step mom last night, she was “both sides…” and “the protesters were breaking property- I was scared of them.” She seemed to imply Alex Pretti and Renee Good had basically caused their own deaths. My dad seemed to be more on her side. I walked out shaking with anger, and drove too fast across the cities, rather than say all the things I was thinking. 

I’m struggling to figure out 

what the right response is… I’ve been fighting this same fight over and over since I was a teenager almost every time I’ve apologized for saying something mean while not conceding anything, and we have gone on, trying to find common ground. This time I didn’t say anything, but I spent the night wondering if I ever wanted to talk to her or my dad again and if so, why…

This time feels so personal that it’s hard not to be furious. I’m shocked at the utter lack of empathy. 

But then the problem is that it reminds me of all the times my step mom (with my dad trailing behind her) put herself over us. Eg, since their affair broke up my family, and my dad snuck around for years breaking promises to us because he was looking out for her. 

Every other time we’ve had political arguments, I could at least point to their good qualities and say… well maybe we can agree on that… I knew this would happen in the current climate and have been avoiding this discussion as best I can. But now it’s out in the open. 

It feels like all my respect, and any trust I had, have basically evaporated. I feel like fundamentally I shouldn’t have to argue over the worth of another human being, or why I don’t want the government sending soldiers into my neighborhood, or why a hotel window doesn’t matter when another person may never see their loved one again… but I guess that’s where we are at. 

Opportunities and boundaries

 All day today I felt like I needed to journal. I didn't really have anything new to say, but I felt like my life was on some sort of precipice of change. The tarot readers were feeding it to me, something is gonna change, you're on a new path. I've felt stuck lately, maybe getting closer to ready to make some sort of change. But I had no real new ideas. I don't have anything that I am dead set on doing professionally or personally. I mean, it would be fun to teach or something, but I don't need to. There are plenty of opportunities, but I don't really feel called to any of them. 

There is also the growing distance with E. Nothing said, no major thing... just distance. She is rebuilding her life. Lately I've been thinking about all my exes, how some of them I rarely think about. How occasionally I will think of a family member of theirs or something. I assume they are living their lives, and not thinking of me. I am grateful to have known them. I am grateful to hold love for them and to let them go (probably after the time was right, but oh well). 

I assume on some level it will be the same with E, and sometimes that gives me pause. But in thinking about all the lovely people I have known, and who I am glad exist in the world... it also gives me gratitude and appreciation, and just a general feeling of peace. I am glad to know that someone I love is out in the world doing the things they are meant to do... the same can be said for me, I suppose. I am glad I am getting the opportunity to do lovely things in the world. 

Yesterday it was a protest and time with a friend. Today it was church, and some time with family. It was great, until I got in a fight with my step-mom. Not the first time. If I am honest, probably not the last. I don't know why I try.  I was visibly shaking and upset when I walked out. The whole drive back I was considering whether I ever need to talk to her again, whether it was my last time in that house. I just don't get the point. 

She was basically both sidesing the current situation, "I was afraid of the protesters... they damaged property."  "He shouldn't have had a gun."   Etc... at the end of the day, she's a bootlicker who doesn't care about people (and thats not true, she does care about people, but doesn't take responsibility for how her choices harm them). Why do I want someone like that in my life?  And yet, I also know how much she has cared for my father. I know that she is a very welcoming presence at family gatherings and holidays.  

It's like... loyalty to herself and her family, and her fascist government first... Then everybody else?

I dunno... She doesn't care to hear it. I don't care to talk to her. 

A few months ago I was trying to talk my siblings into helping pay for my dad and her to fly to Ireland because she says she has always wanted to go. I know my dad talks about traveling, but he would never do it without her... and she wants Ireland, so I figured send them on their way.

A week or two ago I was thinking about where they will want to live towards the end of their lives... and worrying about it. 

Now I am thinking... is there anything of mine of value in that house that I will ever want?  No. 

I'm wondering if I should be writing to my siblings to let them know. I am wondering if I should still plan to talk with my dad... he also supports this bullshit to some extent too. 

I am wondering what kind of boundaries I want to have with someone who justifies nazis... I guess that's what I am trying to figure out... She isn't curious, she doesn't care... she doesn't look at her own track record of being wrong and try to figure out if maybe her sources are wrong. She hasn't seemed to care that it impacts her family, or her relationships with others...  I spent years fighting with them about the Iraq war, a decade later my dad casually shares that he realized it wasn't a good idea. It's like... well I told you that before the war started... maybe you should have believed me and been out protesting. 

So why should I try to keep the peace? Why should I smooth things over...

She once stated that if my dad died, she wasn't sure if any of us would choose to have a relationship with her... who made the choice? 

Over the years, I've fought with this woman more than any other person. I honed my skills of arguing, I've used all sorts of ways to persuade. She always has excuses for her bullshit. So why try. 

I'm still riled up... but I am also really not -in a different way. I am so solid in my beliefs, values, understanding, experience that I am kind of like... oh she's an idiot who doesn't care about people. I wouldn't choose to associate with that in other contexts... that's on her. 

Part of me is like... how long can I hold the boundary?  Do I continue to see my dad... do we wait till the end of the administration?  Is it life long? 

If she reached out and apologized, but still didn't get it... would I forgive and forget?  
Like if she said "I am sorry I hurt you, and caused a rupture in our relationship..." but nothing about being wrong... 

But who knows... maybe it's just stuck in my body. I feel worse for my step-sister. I already feel guilty about that... but in this case gross. Next week is a birthday party for my youngest nephew. He's delightful, but I don't want to associate with my step-mom anymore. If that means distancing from my family, is it worth it? 

I've always wondered how my family members could go no contact with one another... my brother and dad spent long periods of time not talking. My cousin & aunt and my brother didn't speak to one another for years. My dad's brothers have fought and not talked... my uncle and my grandpa didn't speak for like 17 years of something. It always felt stupid to me... it felt like these are people who love one another and their egos are too big. 

Is it my ego that says its wrong for her to justify or at minimum dismiss the murder of a man outside a donut shop?  I guess I am weighing out what my values and the way I want to see the world are, versus a relationship that isn't all that meaningful and carries a lot of baggage... and she comes up short. How many times have I had to forgive and forget, meanwhile, has she learned? Has she taken responsibility?  She voted for this, supports this... if someone votes or undermines your rights do they care about you?

I know I have been avoiding this topic with her. In my walks around the lake with my dad, sometimes we skate the edges of these things. I argue with my dad... but he also listens, backs down. My step mom digs in... plays the victim, doesn't acknowledge that her beliefs have consequences.

I've been making peace with her since I was 6 or 7... trying to make sure that I can keep my dad in my life. But maybe, that's not the point. Maybe he does what he does, and I choose what I care about. 

I've had clients and friends who have similar issues going on... and as therapist I always hold space for the fact that they love this person and may want reconciliation, actually will crave that despite their anger in the moment. But its hard with my stepmom...  I don't trust her. I don't believe in her. I have to fight to respect aspects of her, because I don't like how she operates in the world. I see the worst qualities of my Dad in her... his selfishness, his hiding, his stubbornness, his lack of accountability.  

He just asked to "process that convo..."  He's playing peace maker. (It sucks that that is a role he can slip into... and that I can too). But even his way of stating it was like, a demand not a question. "Hey son, that felt really horrible... I hope we can talk soon and work through it?" 

But what is there to say... I want to reply: "It's the same argument we've been having for years, what's the point?"  At what point do you just acknowledge that someone doesn't see the same world you live in, and that makes you incompatible. Things in our country have gotten worse because of their shit choices, over and over again.  This is a woman who votes against her own interests and runs to that fucking neighborhood app to have her beliefs reinforced by other idiots. 

Is there a space for living within the same space if you don't share the same reality, and one person's actions impact the other's life?  If she sees a man who is faced down get shot ten times by militarized federal agents and doesn't think that's murder and excessive force... than what the fuck?

A tarot video I just watched blatantly named this exact situation... and she ended with, you're all up in your head right now, and the baggage in your heart is keeping you from recognizing there is more to this. It's an old pattern that is coming up, and you're self righteous... but you won't always be that way... Trust that there may be a different outcome than the one you're thinking...

I dunno. 

The point of this post though, was not supposed to be about boundaries and shutting down, and feeling stuck. It was supposed to be about the fact that my feelings are limiting my vision for what is possible. 

When I keep thinking back on all these relationships I've had, I am grateful... appreciative of all the experiences, and in that... there is proof that there will be more to come and that I can appreciate that too. I never imagined all the love or awe, or humor or connection, or any of that that I have experienced... even in my wildest fantasies... they are somewhat shallow/ monotone /simple in contrast to the complexities of the real life I've lived. I have mundane/routinized life too... but there is sooooo much possibility.  I should choose abundance. 

Maybe letting go of things that don't serve me will help with that. Taking responsibility for people who won't take responsibility of their own stuff... not helpful

End of day.

 Three posts yikes.

I’m lonely. 

Today I did that online church, then spent an hour marching in north east. There was a smaller crowd, not sure if it’s cuz I’ve been going to ones in south and st, paul or if folks are tired/hoping it’s over. The folks hiding behind their windows did not appear to believe it was over. They were happy and waved to us. 

So I ended up getting groceries and then spending most of the day avoiding the work I needed to do and dragging it into forever… like 6 progress notes took me over two hours because I stopped to watch stuff on YouTube and my phone and sang along to music and tried to play guitar for two minutes and it was entirely just dragging my feet. Still have a DA I need to do before Wednesday. And some other stuff. Tomorrow 6 clients. Tuesday 5, but one is an intake. So… basically I’m saying it’s gonna be busy. 

I really love cover songs. 

Loneliness… I dunno it’s struck me off and on all day. How I miss sharing life with someone. Miss caring about them, and looking out for them. Miss them doing the same for me. Miss brainstorming and tagteaming stuff, miss companionship. Miss the ability to worry about someone else instead of me. Miss having someone to share my long held secrets, or my whims, the song I love right now. I think most of all, I miss having a direction. Or at least an idea of one. I mean, my life is fine but it’s stagnant now. I could buy a house or make more money, or start new projects or even create something to change the world… but I have accepted that I impact people as part of my life, and likely will… so now it’s just… ok then what? What about investing more deeply? What about expanding beyond one generation? What about cocreating? I don’t really want to join an organization. I want a partner. I want a family. I feel left out. And stuck. I’m the person that shows up 20 minutes late to a protest, and joins the march, and shouts along, and waves to the people behind the windows… and it doesn’t matter, because I’m a body, not part of it. 

I also miss traveling. But that was my experience the last time I traveled. Seeing and experiencing beautiful things, but having no one to share them with. Learning, reflecting, crying, smiling and then not talking to anyone for weeks. My mom and Grant are in Argentina and chile, and I miss it soooooo much. I keep having little memories and little visions of sensations. Or I dunno what to call it. But if I went back, it would not be the same. I loved the first three months I was in South America, but they were nothing in comparison to the last three after meeting J. 

I miss getting to be a partner. I do miss touch too, but it’s odd… I think the thing I was missing today more than any of that is just having another person as part of your heart/‘mind. Like not specifically being side by side, but knowing that that is the default… not being alone. 

Bill Maher was talking about how Gen Z doesn’t have sex anymore… and said that like 25% of the adult population in that age range hadn’t had sex in over a year or something to that extent… I have been that part of the population many times. 

I don’t know what will change. I think the movie last night and other stuff kind of has been freaking me out and making me think of dying more. I keep thinking that if I died or went to the hospital or got arrested, no one would know for days. Including my clients which is really bad on my part. I need to assign people to the role, but I don’t know who I could rely on for that. 

I keep thinking about E and whether I fucked up by letting go. But I also felt like I wasn’t thriving in that relationship, I was slowly sinking. I feel like she is doing a lot better now and it’s good.  

But how to move on in life? I dunno. 

Maybe I need to put my phone in grayscale, apparently that makes it less addictive. 

To old friends

 I just looked at statcounter, which I probably do a handful of times a year. And saw someone reading stuff from 2002-2003, and I went back and looked at some of that and it was so embarrassing and cringe.  So I am sorry to whichever old friend of mine stumbled onto this. I hope I didn’t say anything mean… Z? P?

I often wonder what people would think. I sometimes wonder if people will find this when I die. Someone will remind people and it will come out, and folks will have second hand embarrassment for my dead ass. 

I’m sure there are valuable insights into who I am/was, and that maybe the folks who love me will give me the benefit of the doubt, but I think the thing that is causing me to cringe is that the  version of me whoever that person saw was 18-19 and though I’m not exactly ashamed of who I was now, it does come from an era in which I was pretty ashamed of who I was… and just wrestling with who I am, and how I fit in, and learning these things for the first time instead of the millionth time. 

Does that make sense? I was a kid. There are years of stuff that would come out if I was ever in politics or something that would not look good in today’s society. Including the opening post that person found. So I’m sorry to my friends and family for the past, and the future. Good luck if you’re reading this. 

blegghh

It's Sunday Feb 15th, I am sitting in online church. It's never quite as meaningful. I should start going in person again.  They are detailing the annual pledge drive, the impacts of Children's Hospital no longer offering gender affirming care to children, folks are sharing their testimonies of what it is like to live as a trans person. 

Last night I watched Come See Me in the Good Light, a documentary about the life and death process of poet Andrea Gibson. I have been reading their last book lately and crying all the time at how beautiful it is. Andrea says that they intentionally don't write with big words, because why speak over someone's head, why speak over someone's heart. There is a running theme throughout the movie that Andrea shares -regarding their experience of life before and after learning they are going to die. Prior to their diagnosis, they had depression, they had periods in which they were suicidal. After the diagnosis, they shared that they loved life, found every little moment and relationship beautiful, full of awe, spirit, wonder... wanted every second of it, fought for it through years of chemo, yes through anxiety and fear, hope and uncertainty, but also just a level of *constant appreciation.  I wasn't always sure I bought it...but it was a beautiful, hopeful theme. 

The movie has tons of tear jerking moments. Part of it also shows the "codependent" relationship they were in. Meg, their wife shared that in those last few years, she never wanted to leave Andrea's side. 

It brought up a lot of the stuff with E, and walking her through her health issues, and my internal feelings of responsibility and guilt. I'm clearly still wrestling with it. Trying to let it go. I had a dream last night that was odd, in it, she was asking me about alimony... and I had to remind her we weren't married. There is nothing like this in our actual relationship, but I've been wondering how much I should reach out to her, ask about her life, invest. I am just unclear. At times I want to do so because I miss her. At other times, I wonder if she is ok, and feel some level of responsibility. That's the part I'd like to let go. 

I am considering going to a protest in a few minutes. But I also have lots of work to do today, and I feel somewhat torn. 

Where do I put my energy. Where do I put my love and worry. Where do I put my thoughts and planning. Where do I put my feet through these practices. 

Yesterday, I spent so much time sitting in the present, appreciating, enjoying, feeling less *obligated and more open to the possibilities. Today, it feels like my mind wants to narrow the possibilities, push away excess paths, be direct.   It doesn't feel as good. It feels like scarcity... feels like as I prepare for the week I am sticking my head down and doing what I am supposed to do... but I am not sure this is living. 

I wish I was more open to the potential right now, creative, expansive, abundant. 

But this is also me. you know. 

Ego, mush, technology decay

My mom and step dad are out of town, so expecting the worst. 

Too many thoughts of death, and then what? What does life look like then? How does one rebuild or have a life without a parent you’ve relied on? 

The ego says big, extraordinary life, drama… or security, or wishes fulfilled. 

What if it’s more simple. Settling, family, moderate income. Slip into working class like the majority of the population. Nothing the movies would show,  not wealthy, not powerful, not particularly noteworthy. Maybe a parent has to move in, or you have to move in with a parent. Maybe it’s a health issue. Maybe it’s just not being able to keep up. Maybe it’s spending too many moments lost on a cell phone…

I alternate between these things, fears, fantasies, unsure what decisions to make and ultimately - I will end up with a life that was ok. How do I know? Because I have thus far. Some outlandish things, and some routines of boredom… but all trending toward gray. 

Because I’m choosing to dull, to withdraw, to downplay, to regulate, to khaki and collar it… ? How many life giving things happen in a day, am I noticing and grateful? 

Am I distracting and avoiding? And diminishing… 

This morning I sat in the waiting room at the dentist. Staring out across two parking lots, to a retirement home. I wondered if they had good reviews. It’s only a mile away from my dad’s house. Would he be happy there? Would he prefer to live with one of us? I know he’d be cranky, like his father got. I know he’d be depressed. I love my father, but I also despise the way he gets when he’s being selfish. I imagine as he gets older, he’ll be more that way. Less hearing, less memory, less gratitude. I don’t want to believe it, but I can see it happening. I don’t think he’ll keep his bitterness to himself, I think he’ll probably want to die. 

Colleen was saying that about her mid 90s mother, “she thought she’d go at the same time as my dad.” Basically implying she doesn’t want to live, and doesn’t know how to live without him. 

I was in the dentist office, and the two other people in the waiting room were on phones. I tried not to be on mine. It’s harder and harder. I feel I’m losing life to this device, and at the same time not sure what else to do. I wish the smartphone did not exist. I wish that we could regress in technology. Probably it would be better for our species. I watched a video today of a person reporting. Research about how young people are less cognitively capable than the generation before them, for the first time in over a hundred years.. we are getting dumber. I believe it. 

I feel it. I feel hours drained away, and whereas before I might have at least been drawing, or building something, or crocheting or something while I watched tv, now I am engaged and thumbing the videos along. 3 seconds, 10 seconds, 30 seconds boring.  I try to watch a movie without looking at my phone and basically realize I can’t anymore. 

Every night I say - you should read a book, or play guitar, or write, or exercise or socialize, or build the world you want to exist in…. but instead I find hours and hours of time to scroll. 

I can’t even keep up with the technology. And I don’t really want to. 

I’m not sure what I’m doing. But I’m not thrilled about the direction we as a society are choosing. I know that we will over throw this fascism thing, but it feels like we will just replace it with a different technocracy corporate thing that kills us all the same. 

My ego wants to believe somehow I will be or could be different. But my behavior shows I’m stuck running in place, stuck to a screen, stuck without creating anything of real value. 

What would change that?

What would i be willing to change? 

robo dreams

 I took nyquil around 3pm, and woke up about 15 minutes ago after having a strange dream.

There were multiple components I don't really remember, but the end felt very trippy half dream/half awake/ half trip? 

I don't really remember the beginning of this particular set of dreams, but at some point, someone made me some sushi to try. They wrapped it up and tucked it away.

Later I was sitting at a darkened table, probably working, there were other people around, but when I got up to leave someone asked for someone else, and I looked back to see that a couple was making out, and I said something along the lines of they are here, but they are busy. 

Then as I got up to leave, I knew I was going to go eat the sushi. I was headed toward a small restaurant, there were families eating, some of the kids looked liked young versions of M's kids. I felt that in the dream, and as they smiled at me, I smiled and made little kid faces back.  I found a table for me, and I knew I was planning on eating there. Everything felt like, everyone understood everything that was happening around them. The waiter bringing another family white rice questioned them, what is the most important part of a meal? not the chicken, not the napkins, everyone knew he wanted them to say the rice. The father of the table agreed, but was also reluctant, his son -maybe in his early 20s was closest to me, and I wanted to sneak past them to the open door to get some fresh air. I think I was sad re: M's kids. I just wanted to be out in the open for a minute, then I'd eat my sushi or order food. As I snuck by I got trapped in the doorway between the 20 yr old, he kept considerately trying to move forward but I was still stuck. He knew me, wanted to reassure me, but I was stuck. My heart was pounding, caught between the wall and this well meaning young man, who kept trying to move out of my way, but everyone found it funny, including me, they were a family who cared about me, we all love rice! I woke up and felt profound sadness and anger,  G-d why haven't you given me a family? I questioned and demanded, going through the evidence of loss, of opportunities that I thought might work out, why haven't I a partner? children? a family like the ones in this dream?  Why am I alone and sick. I knew I was still asleep, but also awake, piling up thoughts, and emotions, and feeling more and more righteous in my demands. I expect this. I want this now. Give this to me. 

I fell back into the dream space and watched as things whirled and twisted, lights and food, everything turning to purity, everything in its right place, I saw that what I wanted could happen, how easy and beautiful and perfect it was, all the dishes, all the people, all the tasty food, swirling and swirling, and coming together and being purified, and white light, like a plate of white rice, everything was combining and taking form and it was orderly, and prismatic, and beautiful, and then it started to un-swirl, things mushed together, were darkened by soy sauce, and muck, and decayed and defleshed, and everything that was good, was suddenly composting into chaotic goo, the worst texture, and overwhelming the senses, and it was all gross, and I wanted it to go back to the other way, but I realized it wasn't my will that made things happen, it was sort of the nature of it all, and then when I recognized that, a new thing started happening, there were these like crispy bits that began to thicken and shape all the things, the food, the people, like crispy lightning bolts, that brought form back into play, spines, and outlines, gave structure to the muck, and recreated the bright, and it became not the pure white rice, but colorful dishes of vegetables, and stir fries and currys and stuff. Everything was flavorful in more than one way, and it was beautiful, but there was this underlying disturbance to it, that I knew it was also the decay, and it was all at the same time.  

I think the cycles kept going, but I was losing my grip... I woke up hungry at the minimum. But also sort of lost. 

I think as I have written this, it makes more sense than it did in the dream. But it was just soooo much bombarding of the senses -kind of like tripping. It kind of made me wonder if I was dying. Like having a heart attack. The rush of all of this stuff while my heart felt trapped.

I had felt so pure and expectant in my demands. Like it wasn't too much to ask of G-d. Like I had been wronged and I was asking for time earned... you know.   And then as the visuals continued to spiral and prism, it really made it seem so mucky again, so lost at sea, grateful to even have a place to stand. 

I think I said them in the right order, I think it may have looped again a time or two in the dream... but ultimately I think it was just pointing out sort of the cosmic cycles. 

That's what I've felt lost in lately... what is my role in this cosmic cycle... somehow believing if I knew, then I'd be satisfied. 

All day to day I have been thinking about how many of my clients can't seem to let go, or accept what is, because they are holding tight to something they thought was theirs, that they had once, or that they thought should be, and it is in opposition to what it is.  And I've been sort of amused with myself this weekend recognizing how much I am the same, that I don't have a leg to stand on when it comes to being lost on this ride... purified, turned to mulch, transformed again only to decay. 

Round and round. 

What else can we do. 

Identity, individuality, community

 Sunday. 

James' B day. 

I don't think we are celebrating. I am pretty sure my mom and grant leave to South America. I just checked the notes... I guess their flight leaves in about 15 minutes. Back at the end of Feb. 

I have been sick this weekend. Trying to make space for rest, and drugging myself to sleep. It's a minor cold, no real aches or fever. Just sneezing, and nose and headache, and feeling a little less than par. 

It has made it harder to do things. Like I had a sink full of dishes and the floors needed to be swept. I was able to do that stuff this morning and suddenly my world felt better, more opportunity. I don't quite feel up to cleaning my whole apartment, but the idea of it sounded nice. A fresh clean start. A spring?

In addition to ICE making the cities unbearable, its also felt like winter, and this is the first week in several weeks than you can leave shelter without immediate pain on your skin or in your lungs. 

So I guess a thawing of sorts. 

Despite feeling sick, I worked on Friday. Not my best. I also attended a meeting in my building that someone else had organized. About 20 people showed up, and I realized how isolated I have felt in my building. That despite some folks finding community here, almost everyone on the 4th floor didn't know one another. We awkwardly said hi, and tried to communicate via signal apps. I got started on it, and felt stupid and old. The whole meeting I wondered if I should be contributing more, while simultaneously reminding myself that A) I was sick *wearing a mask and B) that I do emotional labor and may not be able to contribute the way other folks do... but that tension of building community, versus staying isolated was there. It was odd to me. It was odd to be at what was essentially an organizing meeting, and to not have a voice or a role. It was good, but my ego was like... wtf?  I guess that is something I realized a bit this weekend, that my ego as a leader, or as a person with authority is quite big. I wonder how often I have been talking over others, or not giving space. I have felt more called to speak up and give voice in the last few weeks, but I also wonder if that isn't what is needed. Maybe I should be helping others to raise their voices, as these organizers in the building did. It was great. Now I am wrestling again, with how involved do I want to be? 

There is also a scarcity vs abundance battle happening within me. I am worried about money. Worried about time and energy. I am not sure how much to give, and whether it is effective. Not sure how much to hold back, and whether it is effective.

For example, if I am paying my bills, but not able to save money for retirement... is that ok?  Not really.  But also, if I save for retirement and try to live in a system that continually demonstrates that it doesn't care about anybody (look out for myself, but not make change), then it will only be harder for me and everybody else.   the pull of individual security, vs collective security...  

But I look forward in the week and see myself exhausted, so why sign up for another thing? Today for instance. Its about 2 pm... in a few hours there is a neighborhood meeting at a church. I was considering going just to get a little more information and insight. But I don't want to commit to anything. My phone is already being bombarded with signal texts. I should probably figure out how to mute them. I am not likely to do direct action. I am not sure where I fit into mutual aid. 

I am also isolated in my apartment, not knowing my neighbors and trying to figure out my own future. 

All weekend I have missed E. I haven't really talked to her in a couple of weeks. I am unsure if I should be reaching out more or not. I know there is an element of letting go in order to move on, and that when we spend time together -that gets tricky. I also know I want to be reaching for new opportunities. Maybe meeting people. Trying to date?  (maybe not in the immediate, but I do attend things with consideration). 

I dunno... being sick is really funny. Its an experience of recognizing that reality isn't real in an empowering way, and also feeling unreality in a potentially diminishing way. As in, nothing I do really matters, so I can do whatever I want. And also, nothing I do really matters, so it doesn't matter if I try. 

I'm kind of feeling on the line between them today. Doing the dishes and sweeping the floor felt good. But by the time I got groceries and came home, I feel kind of exhausted. 

There will be more community meetings in the future. Maybe I can just wait a week. 

Maybe I don't need to be a leader in the organizing against the fascists, maybe I'll just  be a body in the crowd.  

Maybe my work will change again.  Therapy is very isolating. Maybe, I will decide to start something new. 

I dont really know about this building. I am glad to have the space, but I feel like I am losing money by staying here. I guess what I am saying is that I have a desire to be part of something more than me, but also a fear of exhausting myself... and I haven't found a balance. 

no wise words... just life again. The longer I am a therapist, the less sure I am that anything matters much. We are all just playing out our lives, figuring out roles that we slip into and out of, trying to live into values, -that life will complicate, trying to relate, but also be separate. 

I dunno... tricky. 

Im gonna go take a nap. 

Nightmares?

 I guess I can’t exactly say they were nightmares, I woke up unsettled, but I wasn’t scared, more disturbed. Last night I really struggled to sleep. It was like I was in and out of sleep for hours, and when I woke I knew I had been dreaming but I didn’t feel I’d been very asleep. Maybe it was cuz I had coffee at like 4pm, maybe because I’m getting sick.  I know there were at least three but I can only recall two. I have a feeling the other one was the most graphic and violent.  It was a weird disturbing night, I know at one point, between trying to get back to sleep after something violent had occurred, I wondered if that nightmare I had once about running from people with guns and hiding under a garage door before they found me - actually took place in Minneapolis, if it meant I would die soon. Even though I couldn’t justify why that would happen… 

Anyway. In one of the dreams I was in a battle, a war. At first I was on the walls defending against the others with bombs and explosives and machine guns, but once we had repelled them. I walked out into the desert with them. I talked to one, asked where we should sleep. Others were coupling up, their naked bodies exposed to the elements. It was like the most vulnerable thing I’d ever seen. The naked human form on a blanket in the dark night, in the desert, just yards away from a war zone. But they didn’t seem scared. It was like they were resigned to what was. 

In another I was driving into a small town. There was an ice agent on the corner checking peoples IDs. They waved at me sternly, pointing to their guns. I yelled I’m a citizen, and told them to fuck off. I drove a block further, and suddenly I was on foot. We were all headed toward the Mexican bakery. Once inside, people were buying food, trying to support the workers, but no one was telling them that ICE was coming. It was like we thought our good will would be enough to propel them. And suddenly we were all staring towards the doors, frozen in place, and the bustling voices of the crowd were silent waiting for the invasion. 

It was a weird night. Hopefully I get more sleep, but I’m thinking it might be a NyQuil weekend. 

Dreams of recognition

At some point last night, I had a series of dreams. 

In the first, I was in some sort of college gathering space, a banquet of sorts, with circular tables all around. On each table there were center pieces of flowers and grasses, but also writing and projects displayed. I noticed on one table that a poem I had written was displayed in glass or something, and another was a 4 square comic strip of a poem and drawings I had done. I vaguely recalled submitting them for an assignment, and was surprised to see them there. As the night led on, at some point I was asked to read the poem. I found myself looking for a microphone, which was hard to find, and took like 15 minutes, and in my time of searching for the tool, I hadn't reminded myself of the poem. Something I had scribbled for an assignment a week or two prior and had forgotten. I pulled the original out of my pocket. Not the polished version on the table. It was folded over and ruffled. The lines of the poem had crease marks over them. I couldn't find my place, or the tone, or the words. I woke up, and reminded myself that in dreams its hard *maybe impossible? to read. 

I went back to sleep, this time I was being asked to perform it, not just read it. I was on an elevated grander stage, an audience before me. There was an orchestra pit. I found the words of the poem were actually a song. I had written out the music and the lyrics. I began to sing it and felt very proud of what I'd accomplished as the music added depth. The poem felt more like a musical, there were parts, and after my first verse, I laid down on the stage, the music continue to play, and another performer took her part and sang the rest of the piece. As the music and the words reverberated through my body. I felt really proud of what I had contributed. I could relax, because my part was over, but I was recognized as sharing something important and meaningful for others. 

The song ended, and the audience gave a standing ovation. I felt relaxed and scanned the audience of smiling and clapping folks. In the middle, there was a man who did not appear happy. Something gave me a note that he wanted to talk to me. I approached him as people were leaving the theater. He said something about my wedding, and that he was surprised I could perform so quickly after -implying that it had been the previous night. I said he was mistaken, he had mistaken me for someone else. He pulled out a newspaper clipping that had my name on it, and seemed to imply it was all the proof he needed. There seemed to be some anger and disbelief on his part, I responded confused and gentle, I was in a good place and didn't need to be brought down. I told him, friend, that's not me, but I don't want to fight, and I wished him well. He went away unconvinced, still tight. I returned to the stage and my people, still feeling accomplished. 

There may have been another part. But I found this series of dreams to be really interested. The idea that I might create something, almost accidentally that matters to others. That I might be inspired and share my gifts and be recognized, and actually proud and comfortable with my success. The idea that I won't be able to convince everyone, that some would disapprove and I'd not be able to control their beliefs.

It's like a complete story in three parts. 

I wish I remembered the words and music, but I don't. I know it was somewhat political. I know that it felt a little like Les Miserables. I know that when I rested on the stage and listened to someone else sing and play my music, I genuinely felt surprised and proud of what I'd allowed to flow through me, that I was a conduit for some muse larger than myself, but I was grateful.